Chapter Three

Elizabeth

R ain pounded against the road's stone surface, bouncing back up from the sheer force. The rhythmical sound would have been comforting if she'd been able to stay inside, listening to it from in front of a warm fire, but that wasn't the case today. Elizabeth glanced upward, seeing nothing but black clouds. Somewhere in the distance, a streak of lightning flashed across the sky, and she shuddered.

"Maybe we should stay at the posting inn another night," she said to her uncle, but he waved her off.

"No, I think not. Lambton is but a three-hour journey from here. We've already delayed enough. I must get back to London in a fortnight after all, and we have much to see."

Elizabeth glanced at her aunt who nodded, but she could see the apprehension on the woman's face. They had already delayed their departure from that morning to now, in the late afternoon, due to the weather. Rain had come and gone most of the day, but every time it appeared to be clearing, and they asked the coachman to ready the carriage, the skies had broken open again.

"Is this quite usual for this part of the country?" Jane asked from her place by the fire. Elizabeth smiled when she looked at her sister, who had that serene, peaceful look so often found on newlyweds.

A month had passed since Jane and Bingley had exchanged their vows in front of a small group of friends and family at Netherfield. They had travelled to Brighton for their honeymoon for two weeks and had now returned, ready to find their new home up north. Elizabeth, meanwhile, had joined her aunt and uncle on a tour of the north.

In fact, the group had travelled together from London, Jane and Charles in their carriage, and she with her aunt and uncle in theirs. It had been a pleasant four days as they had stopped at various points of interest to explore.

However, they would part ways when they got to Jane and Mr Bingley's—no, Charles, she reminded herself as he had requested to be addressed as such—to view estates in the area.

Just then, Charles came around the corner, shaking his head. "Jane, we shall have to remain here for another night."

"Why?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

"I just went to fetch the coachman. He is as drunk as a wheelbarrow. It wouldn't be safe for us to travel with him."

Elizabeth's heart sank. She had planned to travel with Charles and Jane to make the most of the time she had left with her sister, for who knew when she would see her again. Having that time cut short so abruptly struck her. And Jane felt the same way.

"Oh, I had not expected to have to part with you so quickly," Jane said, clutching Elizabeth's hand. "I will write to you. Do not fret. And then we will see one another as soon as possible." Charles sighed. "I had better send a message to Barnes, he is expecting us in the morning."

"So hasty," Uncle Gardiner said. "There is plenty of room in our carriage. I would not suggest it if we had a long way before us, but it is only three hours or so away from here. We can all fit in the carriage. It shall be cosy."

"What do you say?" Elizabeth asked expectantly.

Seeing the pleased smile on Jane's face told Elizabeth all she needed to know. Grateful for a few more hours with her sister, she squeezed her hand while Charles and Uncle Gardiner instructed the coachman to load the content of the Bingley carriage into that of the Gardiners. And then, while the rain still fell, they set off towards Derbyshire.

***

"Perdition!" Uncle Gardiner exclaimed as the carriage rocked and shook, throwing Elizabeth first against her sister, who was seated in the middle between her and Charles, and then again against the carriage wall. "My word!" he said when the coachman threw the door open and addressed her uncle.

"Sir, you must exit at once. We are in a precarious situation."

Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up. "Exit? The rain has only intensified, serving as a steady beat against the carriage's roof. And for the last half-hour or so, I have heard threatening booms of thunder and seen lightning streaks across the skies. This is not the sort of weather in which one wants to get out of the carriage. What could be so precarious to catapult us into a storm?"

However, the coachman's face allowed no argument, and thus the occupants of the carriage exited. It was only when she stood outside, shielded by a hastily procured umbrella, that Elizabeth saw the true depth of the trouble. The carriage had hit a pothole in the road and jerked sideways, coming to rest dangerously close to an embankment with its wheels stuck in the mud and the entire carriage unsteady.

Uncle Gardiner, the last one of the party to exit, had made it out just in time, the carriage dipped to the side, tilting even further towards the embankment due to the shift in weight within.

"Goodness gracious, what are we going to do?" Jane exclaimed as they looked around, and Elizabeth saw that they were indeed in a predicament. She saw some lights up ahead, perhaps a half-mile walk, but they appeared to belong to a residence, not a town.

"Well, if I am not mistaken, Lambton is another half an hour by carriage," Uncle Gardiner said as a shiver raced through him and he wrapped his arms around himself. "This is not good."

Scratching his temple, Charles looked around. "Well, we cannot stay here. We must find shelter. And we cannot go into the carriage as it might topple over at any moment. Pray, coachman, whose home is up ahead?" The coachman paled in the light of the carriage lamp.

"It is not a place where we can go and seek shelter. I am afraid, sir, that we had best walk towards Lambton and hope another carriage comes along to pick up at least the ladies."

Elizabeth shook her head. "That's not an answer. Whose home is this?" She pointed towards the lights up ahead.

The coachman said gravely, "Ma'am we cannot go there. No one in this area would dare go anywhere near Pemberley. The owner has the reputation of being horrid indeed. Not just in appearance, but in character. I personally know two workers who went there to conduct repairs and refused to return. Darcy is truly a horrid fellow."

Pemberley? Darcy? Elizabeth's jaw dropped as she looked at Charles, who smiled.

"Pemberley? I thought this road looked familiar. Heavens it has been years since I visited. Do not fret, friends. We shall go to Pemberley. Darcy will not turn us away. We will wait out the night there and press on in the morning."

"Are you quite certain?" Jane asked. "He did not respond to any of your letters, not even the one asking him to be best man."

Charles flinched and Elizabeth remembered how forlorn he'd looked on the morning of his wedding. The place beside him at the altar threatened to remain empty. He refused to select a different best man, holding out hope that his friend would still show himself in time. Of course, he had not.

His brother-in-law, Mr Hurst, had stepped into the role, but it had been thoroughly awkward, since everybody knew Charles hadn't asked him until the last possible moment.

Mr Hurst had taken it all in stride, stoic as he tended to be. But it had left a bad taste in everyone's mouth, not least of all, because everyone understood how truly hurt Charles was by the slight by his oldest friend.

"I know Fitzwilliam Darcy. He may have withdrawn himself from the world, but he would not turn a friend away. It was I who was wrong to ask him to be my best man. We have not spoken since the fire. He looked to withdraw even from me, and I have heard that he does not wish to see anyone else either. Yet I put him on the spot by demanding he stand up for me at my wedding. I should not have done it, and I will thoroughly apologise once we make it to Pemberley."

Elizabeth frowned. She remembered Mr Wickham's words about Mr Darcy. While she doubted most anything that came out of that man's mouth, she had to admit when it came to Mr Darcy, she had her doubts. But everything she had heard from others, specifically Charles, told her that perhaps he was not as deplorable a man as Mr Wickham seemed to think of him as.

"I shall not join you. I heard the man has hounds that would chase any stranger away. They could rip us all to pieces. Even if we made it to the front door, the man is likely to drive us through with his sword," The coachman said looking nervous.

"Come now," Uncle Gardiner said gruffly. "He can't be that bad."

"He is not," Charles affirmed. "We are friends, and he has no dogs." But looking at the coachman, Elizabeth could see that there would be no persuading him. In the end, it was agreed that the coachman would make his way into Lambton while the rest made the walk to Pemberley—and put themselves at the mercy of a man who, at least to Elizabeth, sounded rather unpleasant indeed.