1. After the Ball

CHAPTER 1

After the Ball

AUGUST 1811

E lizabeth Bennet stifled a yawn as her father's coach bumped along the country lane. Bright sunlight poured through the windows, illuminating tiny motes of dust caught in the beams, turning them into joyful reminders of last night's chandeliers. Her feet ached still from the hours she had spent dancing, but she would have it no other way.

"You were popular last night, Lizzy." Jane's voice filtered through her recollections, and she turned to her sister with a wide grin.

"As were you. I do not believe you sat out a single dance. The gentlemen were lined up to have a turn on the floor with you. You always were the prettiest one in the room." Elizabeth's teasing laugh filled the coach, as Jane flushed a delicate pink and cast her eyes modestly downwards.

Across from the two sisters sat their aunt, with an indulgent smile upon her face. She was closer in age to the sisters than to their mother, and was at once a respected family member, confidante, and dear friend. When she had invited her nieces to spend a week with her in London, both had accepted almost before receiving their father's certain permission. These visits to London were not infrequent, and usually included visits with friends, concerts, afternoons in the park with the young Gardiner children, and outings of various sorts.

This particular trip to London had been somewhat different, for Elizabeth and Jane's four young cousins were now enjoying the vast grounds of their family estate in Hertfordshire, a holiday from the heavy air and heat of the city. But, in compensation for the loss of their exuberant company, Aunt Gardiner had introduced the sisters to a friend, who in turn had invited them to a ball in the grand garden of an estate just past the city's limits.

They had accepted with pleasure and had danced the night away, before returning very late indeed to the Gardiner's house on Gracechurch Street. No, Elizabeth corrected herself, not late at all, but very early this morning. It must have been almost five o'clock before they fell into their beds and had slept for only two hours before rising for the morning's journey back to the Bennet family's home in Hertfordshire.

Their aunt was accompanying them, eager as she was to see her children again, and their uncle would join her at Longbourn for a week or two once his immediate business was complete. Had Aunt Gardiner slept at all last night? For surely, while Elizabeth and Jane took what little slumber they could, she had been organising the servants and seeing to the household and calling for the Bennets' carriage to return them all to the country.

Still, while she must have been quite as tired as Elizabeth, her bright eyes did not show it at all.

"She speaks the truth, Jane. You turned many heads last night, and I know that several young men will be calling at our house in town before long in hopes of furthering the acquaintance. Perhaps at Christmas, you might come for a longer visit to satisfy them." She glanced over at Elizabeth and added, "And I might say the same about you. At least three young men spoke to your uncle, hoping to learn more about you. No, do not put yourself down. You are every bit as pretty as Jane, if in a different way. And you looked very well indeed in that dress we remade for you." She talked on, and Elizabeth tried to follow the conversation, but her smiles were overtaken by yawns and she felt the weight of her eyelids pulling them closed.

"Lizzy? Are you awake? Oh, I am sorry…" Jane patted her arm. "You can rest on my shoulder if you wish to sleep. We have another half an hour before the inn where we will take some refreshments and let the horses rest."

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes for a moment and then blinked herself back to consciousness. "No, indeed, Jane, do not let me sleep. Let us talk of the ball and the handsome men we danced with. And the music! What a fine orchestra your friend engaged. I most enjoyed that new dance they played at the very end of the evening. What was it called? The Arrow's Flight ?"

She hummed a couple of notes, and Jane added what she recalled, followed by Aunt Gardiner's melodic voice, and soon the three women were singing the song that had so captivated them the previous night.

Cupid's bow is magic-touched,

His arrow's flight is true.

For when his arrow takes its flight,

My eyes are fix'd on you.

"What silly words," Elizabeth laughed between yawns.

"But memorable, for all that!" her aunt teased in return. "Even half-asleep, you recall them perfectly."

Despite these amusements and the cherished company of her aunt and sister, by the time the coach arrived at the inn where they had secured a private dining room whilst the horses rested, Elizabeth could no longer force herself into wakefulness. The very notion of staggering out through the courtyard and encountering a hive of busy and noisy patrons and servants all but made her head swim; and after a very late supper and early breakfast, she had no wish for food. If only…

"Aunt," she said through another stifled yawn, "I would prefer to remain in the carriage and sleep. I can hardly keep my eyes open and shall be no pleasant company at tea. Would you mind terribly? Colin will be keeping watch on the horses, and he can ensure I am not disturbed." She mentioned her family's manservant who tended the horses, and who now sat on the rumble with Peggy, the maid.

Jane's porcelain forehead wrinkled with a frown. "Are you certain, Lizzy? It cannot be very comfortable in here; you cannot even lie across the seat as you did when you were a child. Perhaps we can take a room with a bed in the inn…"

Her aunt looked equally perturbed but said nothing.

"No, I shall be quite well. I can roll the blanket under the seat into a sort of pillow to lean against, and I have my shawl if I get chilled. We shall only be here for an hour; it would be quite unreasonable to take a room, for by the time it was arranged and I lay down, it would be time to rise again. I only need a short rest. Enjoy your tea, and I shall be a far more cheerful person when you return."

Her fatigue must have shown in her eyes, for Jane and Aunt Gardiner looked at each other and nodded.

"Very well, Lizzy," her aunt replied. "I shall tell Colin. Call to him if you change your mind or need anything."

Within moments, the carriage came to a stop in the yard behind the inn, and with a final glance towards her, Jane and Aunt Gardiner alit. There were some noises from above, presumably Peggy and Colin descending from the box, and more sounds as her father's two carriage horses were released from their harness for the time being, to be led to the shade to take water and rest before continuing on for another twelve miles or so to Longbourn. All this Elizabeth heard but dismissed from her consciousness as she fashioned her pillow, pulled the curtains closed over the windows, and made herself as comfortable as she could before drifting off into a much-desired sleep.

Fitzwilliam Darcy shifted behind the bale of hay by the side of the stables. He was safe from view for now, but he knew his time here must be short. He had escaped this time, but it would not be long before his pursuers found his scent and tracked him like a fox running from the hounds. And, like the poor fox, if he were caught, he would be torn to shreds. A piece of straw poked through the burlap he crouched upon and scratched his leg through the rip in his breeches. He shifted again and pulled the offending straw away, groaning in dismay as he glanced at his filthy hands. Something in his hair itched and he prayed he had not contracted lice.

What a horrid night this had been. What a horrid week! He ran a dirt-blackened hand across his forehead to wipe off the sweat, dreading to think what dreadful mark it might leave. It hardly mattered, he laughed bitterly to himself. No one who saw him now would think him any more than another addlepated labourer, staggering around England half-dressed in rags and looking like something ejected from the gutters.

He had, somehow, to get home to Pemberley, to gather the troops! But how that might occur, he knew not. He still had his coat, now torn and covered in dust, and the handful of coins and notes he had shoved into a pocket before he had fled, but he dared not take the mail or the stagecoach. Perhaps another farmer would offer him space at the back of a cart, much like the one who had brought him this far. Or, he could set out and walk, somewhere off the main roads where he would be harder to find. But oh, what damage might be done in the length of time that would take. Could he buy a horse? No, not with the few funds he had, and no one would believe him, looking as he did, to take credit. It all began to seem rather hopeless.

The sound of an approaching carriage caught his attention. It seemed a rather ordinary sort of vehicle, not too large and certainly not elaborate, but in good repair and pulled by a team of two sturdy horses, clearly chosen for their stamina and not looks. There was no coat of arms on the door, not that he expected one, and the servants on the rumble wore regular clothing rather than livery. It looked, he considered, to be the coach of a gentleman well-enough off to afford such a luxury, but certainly not one of his own wealth and standing. A country squire, returning, perhaps, from a visit to town.

His estimation was reinforced when he saw two ladies descend from the vehicle. From this slight distance, it was difficult to see precisely, but one looked to be about eight or nine years older than the other, both rather handsome. The younger one might be very pretty indeed if seen from closer proximity. They were well dressed and spoke to their servants rather than ordering them. Yes, minor gentry, the daughters of that vast race of land-holding gentlemen whose tenants fed England.

As they turned towards the inn itself, Darcy heard the older one call out to the manservant. "About an hour? That suits us well, Colin. Send Peggy for us when the carriage is ready again." And off they walked to avail themselves of whatever the proprietor had for their enjoyment.

An hour. They were not changing horses, then, but continuing with the same team. They must not be travelling very far. It was a pity, else he might go down on bended knee and beg passage with them, even with the servants on the box, or next to the driver. He could even offer to help drive, for he had taken the reins before and was said to be adept with the horses.

A thought wormed its way into his mind, which he rejected completely. It would not do! A gentleman did not behave thus, and he would have no part of that foolish scheme. But the thought would not be quiet, no matter how he squashed it. He groped for the apple he had bought from the farmer with far too much coin and took a bite, soothing the gnawing hole in his stomach. It might be some of the last food he would eat for a while if he could not get far away very quickly.

For almost an hour, he sat behind his bale in the shadow of the overhang, watching. He watched the two horses be taken to drink and rest in the cool stables; he watched the manservant and maid flirt and eat their meal, as the driver joked with some of the grooms by the wide-open stable door; he watched as other carts and carriages came and left, none of them promising any sort of help for his dire predicament.

And then, with alarm, he watched as one more vehicle neared. It was not the curricle that set Darcy's heart pounding, but the driver. Damnation! Wickham had traced him thus far. He crouched further down, wondering if he could somehow burrow into the piles of hay. If he were found… He refused even to think of it.

There were only two men, Wickham and another he did not know. He hoped to maintain this situation. But he was trapped. If they began to search, it would not be long before he was caught. The grooms were now hitching up the horses to the gentleman's carriage that had arrived earlier, and he wished he could somehow become one of those horses and flee.

That unwelcome thought made itself known again, and he ignored it as he heard Wickham call to his companion.

"I'll ask the innkeeper if he's seen him. Then we can have an ale before going on to Edgware. See to the horses and meet me inside."

The other man nodded and waved to the groom who was approaching. In short minutes, their business was completed and the man ambled towards the inn.

That dreadful idea was no longer a silent whisper, but a scream. He had to do it. If he remained, he would be discovered and his life would be over. If he acted, he could see things right later.

The carriage's driver was still gabbing with the other men, and the manservant and maid put away their meal and started towards the inn to call for the ladies who were travelling. It was now or never.

In that moment, when no one was looking, he dashed from his hiding place and leapt onto the driver's seat, grabbing the reins in the process. A tug and a crack of the whip and the horses began to move, then run, as he urged them faster and faster in his desperate attempt to escape.

It was not until his heart stopped pounding with the force of a hundred drums that he realised the banging noise was not only in his head, but was coming from inside the coach he had just stolen.

He had, he realised in horror, abducted somebody along with it!