The Journey (12 page)

He now frowned in earnest, any semblance of a smile quite vanished, as he raked his fingers through his hair. “I regret those statements. They were beneath me, as well as uncalled for and untrue.”

Untrue? This would not do. Surely, he did not intend to compliment me. I would not allow him to persist in that line of speech.

“I see that your memory fails you, sir. Let me refresh it. As I recall, you appeared to be in ill humour the night of the Meryton assembly ball, disdainful of all you surveyed. In truth and in line with your nature, I believe your first account is accurate after all, and I shall not listen to you disavow it at this late date.”

His response was silence and a long, steady gaze placed squarely upon me, a gaze that flustered me somewhat, one from which I eventually turned away.

“It is in the past now, Mr. Darcy. Please do not suffer yourself to think upon it. In truth, I grow weary of thinking, and if you consider it safe to do so, I would benefit from a short nap.”

“Very well,” he replied. “Do not worry for your safety. I shall remain awake and keep watch. I only regret that you must sleep on the ground.”

“Ah,” I said, using my hands to rake up a mound of leaves and then laying my head upon it, “but I have grown accustomed to the absence of a pillow.”

Within moments of closing my eyes, I felt his hand gently lift my head, as he slipped his folded coat beneath it. “Allow me at least this trivial attempt at atonement for my previous blunders.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he silenced me by lightly placing his finger against my lips. “Just this once, Miss Bennet, I pray you will favour me with a
scarcity
of your sharp tongue.”

Chapter Six

Mr. Darcy allowed me to nap for some time before I felt his hand on my shoulder. I sat up immediately for fear that we were in danger, but when he assured me that all was well, I felt relief that my only threat was a growling stomach. Gert’s meagre rations had not satisfied my hunger.

He bade me rise and follow him, explaining that while I slept, he had explored a short distance from our retreat, and to our great, good fortune, he had discovered a narrow country lane that might possibly lead to Hazleden.

He guided me through a brief tangle of trees, and it did not take long before we reached the edge of the forest. From there, a rough roadway lay before us, its worn ruts indicating it was travelled, although how often, of course, neither of us knew.

“We should continue our journey well back from the road within the cover of these trees, lest our captors also use this path,” Mr. Darcy said. “From here I can observe anyone coming from afar, and if it appears a harmless soul, I shall step forth and secure our passage. To be safe, you should remain out of sight, Miss Bennet, until I have found a ride for us.”

I looked him up and down and wondered if he had any idea of his appearance. The once perfectly dressed gentleman who had begun this journey some days previous now appeared bedraggled, unkempt, and highly suspect. His beard and hair were untidy, the bottom of his long coat possessed a good six inches of soil and stain from his misstep into the river, and his once polished boots were scuffed and laden with layers of dirt and mud. I entertained serious misgivings that anyone would wish to give him a ride.

“Do you not think it more prudent that we ask together, sir?”

“I do not,” he said hastily. “I do not need your assistance. It will be a simple task. Now keep behind the trees, and I shall walk nearest the open.”

I did as he said, but beneath my breath, I muttered, “Stubborn man!”

We walked for some time. The sun had climbed high in the heavens before we heard the distant clatter of a horse and cart. Mr. Darcy darted back into the edge of the forest, and we remained concealed until the transport could be viewed clearly. Seeing that it contained only an old man driving what appeared to be an empty cart, Mr. Darcy strode forth from the woods, raising his hand to hail the driver.

The poor, frightened man took one look and immediately grabbed a whip and urged the horse into a faster clip! Although Mr. Darcy ran after the driver, entreating him to stop, the man’s fear of the wild-looking stranger rushing from the wood prevailed. He and his horse and cart soon disappeared from sight.

“Stupid fellow! Why would he not stop?” Mr. Darcy was extremely vexed.

We continued plodding on through the perimeter of the woods. The day had turned muggy, unseasonably warm, and yet full of clouds threatening rain.

Eventually I removed my coat, growing uncomfortable from the steady pace at which we hiked. Mr. Darcy, likewise, stopped to take off his, and in so doing, caught it in a vicious snarl of thorns and briers neither of us had noticed. He laboured to dislodge it, accompanied by various exclamations, but the greater his attempt, the more entangled it became. I had just offered assistance when we heard the distinct sound of another rider or riders approaching.

Mr. Darcy warned me to remain hidden, and we both strained to see, hoping that the forthcoming traveller did not belong to the gang of highwaymen who had abducted us.

“It is but a single young man driving a cart,” I said softly.

“Blast! I must get this coat loose before he passes by.”

“Allow me to approach him, sir. Perchance I shall have greater success than you did, and he will offer a ride.”

“You? Absolutely not!”

I, however, had already walked hurriedly through the trees toward the road.

“Elizabeth!”

“Free your coat, sir. I shall secure our passage.”

I proceeded closer to the path, stepped out into the open, smiled and waved at the driver. Immediately he pulled on the reins and halted the horse. I could see a large pen in the cart, and noises indicated it contained some type of animal.

“Blazes, Miss, you gave me a fright,” he called.

“Good day, sir,” I answered, walking nearer. “You have come just in time.”

I went on to tell him that my horse had suffered a mishap some ways back, and that I was in need of a ride. When he looked askance at my appearance, I explained that the accident had occurred the day before, and that I had wandered through the woods all night searching for the road.

“Could you tell me to where it leads?”

“To Hazleden, Miss.”

“And how far might that be?”

“Another twelve mile or so.”

“And might you offer me a ride? I would be most grateful.”

“I go only as far as the cut-off to Mr. Martin’s place, but I’ll be pleased to take you that far.”

I thanked him with another big smile and then added, “Just let me fetch my brother from the woods.”

“Your brother, Miss?”

“Yes, he’s had a slight mishap with his coat. It will take but a moment.” I ran a few steps back and called, “William, this kind fellow has offered us a ride. Can you not hurry?”

The young driver looked somewhat apprehensive when Mr. Darcy emerged from the trees. “What’s wrong with him? He don’t look a fellow what had no accident. He look like he fell in with hard times.”

“Oh, it is of little consequence,” I said quickly, for I could see that Mr. Darcy had abandoned his greatcoat to the briar patch. Either because of losing that fight or because I had been successful in securing a ride when he had not, he appeared quite angry. Flushed and scowling, he barely nodded at the driver as I made the introductions.

“My name is — Mary, uh, Smith, and this is my brother, William Smith.”

“Jack Burnaby,” the young man said, doffing his hat and exposing a shock of red hair. He appeared to be a callow youth, about the age of my sister, Kitty. He hopped off the cart on the opposite side and made his way around back, where he loosened the slats across the rear and shoved the heavy pen aside.

“We are brother and sister now?” Mr. Darcy hissed. “What next? Shall you be my daughter?”

“Shush,” I cautioned, “he will hear you.” I then walked to the back of the cart, whereupon I was shocked to see a huge black and white sow inside a rude sort of pen. “Is it . . . quite safe to ride back here with your pig?”

“Yes, Miss. Sadie won’t hurt your brother none. And you can ride up front with me.”

“What?” Mr. Darcy exclaimed.

“Come along, William,” I said quickly. “We must not delay this good man. He
is
offering kindness to strangers.”

I refused to meet Mr. Darcy’s eyes, keeping my head down as I hurried past him to the front of the cart, but I could feel the fierceness of his glare. I stopped short, however, upon finding the young man directly in front of me.

“Need a hand up, Miss?” A huge grin covered his face.

Mr. Darcy immediately stepped between us. “Never mind. I will assist my . . . sister.”

Before I knew it, he placed his hands around my waist and lifted me up to the driver’s seat. I murmured my thanks and closed my eyes at sight of the grimace on his countenance. Glancing over my shoulder, I watched him walk to the back of the cart and climb aboard, knowing with certainty that he possessed little appreciation for the seating arrangements.

All of a sudden, the pig began to squeal like a wild woman! She snorted and snuffed and tried her best to push her snout between the bars of the cage.

“Hush up there, Sadie,” Jack yelled, then smiled and winked at me. “Don’t mind her, Miss. I’m taking her over to Mister Martin’s prize boar. ’Tis breeding time.”

“Ah.”

The young man and I conversed for much of the short journey. He was friendly and seemed harmless, and I attempted to discern as much as possible of what he might know about our whereabouts.

He told me that he lived with his parents on a farm about three miles back, that if he did his work well, his father had promised him a trip to Hazleden on market day. When I asked if he ever travelled to Jonah’s Village, he frowned, saying that his parents would not allow him to set foot in it because everyone knew that town had gone bad. Far too much riffraff lived there, and his father thought it a dangerous place for his wife and children.

He went on to say the locals claimed Nate Morgan and his men stayed around there from time to time. He had never actually seen Morgan, but he knew all about him since he was an infamous highwayman.

“Did you come through that way, Miss, when you met with misfortune?”

“No — we were on our way to Town when it happened.”

“To London, Miss? Then you were travellin’ the main road on the other side of the river?”

“Yes,” I said, hesitating somewhat. I knew that I had never been on that road, but I was afraid to tell him the truth, that we had been kidnapped far from this part of the country.

When he looked puzzled, I said that we had wandered around during the night and found ourselves completely lost by morning. Quickly, I reiterated how grateful I was that he had come along, hoping that he would not ask me
how
we had crossed the river. He did, however. I was forced to prevaricate again, weaving a tale about how my horse stepped in a hole and broke its leg. I then doubled up with my brother until his horse fell as we crossed the river.

“You crossed the river?” Jack’s eyes bulged out in surprise. “It’s mighty treacherous in spots.”

I agreed. “That’s when we lost our other horse, along with my brother’s money pouch.”

“All your money’s gone?”

“Utterly — at the bottom of the deep — lost forever.”

I gave a great sigh and attempted the saddest expression I could conjure. Silently, I amused myself with the idea that if I did manage to survive this adventure and my reputation did not, I could always go on the stage, for I had acted more parts than I cared to during the last four days. I stole a sideways glance at the youth and felt satisfied that he believed my cock-and-bull tale.

“That is enough of my sad story. You say that you are on your way to Mr. Martin’s? Is it far off this path?”

“About three mile west once I leave the road. I’d take you and your brother with me, Miss, but Mr. Martin’s not much for callers. He don’t even allow me in his house. I’ll sleep in the barn near Sadie tonight.”

“Does reason exist for his unfriendly demeanour?”

“Folk say he turned sour when his only boy run off and joined Nate Morgan’s bunch.”

I felt a chill run down my backbone. “And does he keep in touch with this son? Is it possible that he sometimes shelters the highwaymen?”

“Don’t know, Miss, but I don’t much think so, else me father wouldn’t send me over there alone. He says that boy turnin’ wild broke the old man’s spirit, and that’s why he keeps to himself.”

“You say he is an excellent breeder of pigs, though?”

“That he is, Miss. Ain’t a sow around here what can keep away from his boar! You ought to see that animal — he’s the grandest in the county!”

Just then, Sadie erupted in another long round of excited squeals and snorts.

“She certainly seems delighted.”

“She is, Miss. Wound up like a top, she is! I hope that old boar’s had a good, long rest a’fore we get there.”

I turned slightly to see that the sow finally had worked her way through the bars of the cage enough to nudge Mr. Darcy’s back with the tip of her snout. I could imagine the anger and frustration he must be suffering. Goodness! I had managed to place him in a situation even more difficult to bear than my sister Mary’s performance at the Netherfield ball.