6. An Alteration in Circumstances

CHAPTER 6

An Alteration in Circumstances

T he sun's last rays filtered through thick trees as the carriage rolled down a long drive. The horses were slow; they were clearly tired and ready for a good rest, and Elizabeth hoped such would be available to them. Will insisted he could provide this, and Elizabeth had no choice but to trust him.

"Where are we going?" she asked for the fourth time in the last ten minutes.

"Milden Hall is the estate of a school friend. We have since grown apart to some degree, but when I was younger, after my mother died, I spent some school holidays with the family. They were very kind to me, and I hold them in affection. I believe Sir Nicholas is still alive. He will remember me. He and my own father were friends from childhood."

The drive swung around a final curve and opened up into a sweep before a large modern house. Built of yellow stone with tall Palladian columns, its proportions were clean and pleasing to the eye. A servant in livery rushed towards them, questions on his face.

"Are we expecting company? Who are your people?" He clearly thought Will was a servant, which, to judge by the man's clothing, was an understandable assumption. Will's face went still and stony, and Elizabeth had to remind him of his circumstances.

"Your clothing, Will," she whispered. "You hardly look the gentleman."

The stony visage eased, and a friendlier expression replaced it, though Elizabeth still heard the echoes of the insult in Will's voice.

"You must be new. My name is Fitzwilliam Darcy, and I am a friend of Mr Julian Strand. My father and Sir Nicholas were likewise acquainted, and I hoped to speak to one of these fine men, should he be available."

Fitzwilliam? Had he given her that name when he introduced himself earlier? Yes, she vaguely recalled, he had, but all she had heard was the familiar Will, to suit his bedraggled appearance. Much like this man in livery. They all had their prejudices, so it seemed.

The servant did not quite sneer at them, but neither did he throw open the gates and welcome them inside. His eyes travelled up Will's filthy body, but stopped when they met his glare. Only someone with a lofty pedigree—or his valet—could achieve so imperious a regard. After a moment, the man condescended to reply.

"Sorry, sir. Neither is at home."

Will's jaw tightened. "And what of Mrs Abbot, the housekeeper? Is she still at her duties?"

The servant's eyes widened a touch. This seemed to be the password he required. "Yes, sir. If you wish to wait inside, I shall see if she is available. Freddy?" the servant called towards some outbuildings. "See to the carriage."

Will leapt down and held out his hand to assist Elizabeth's descent from the box. She placed her own hand in his, and he held it securely for a moment longer than necessary, giving her a squeeze of reassurance. His grip was warm and comforting, something familiar by now in the midst of a day of turmoil.

Freddy came to look after the horses, and Elizabeth followed Will and the servant into the front hall of the grand house.

"Wait here." A footman stepped out from an alcove to ensure they obeyed and ventured no further into the house.

They had been there for no more than five minutes when a diminutive lady with the air of a duchess rounded a corner from some unseen room. Only the chatelaine at her waist indicated that this was the housekeeper and not the mistress of the estate, such was her demeanour. Her eyes were wary at first and she opened her mouth in what looked like the beginnings of a protest, but she took one look at Will and a smile broke her stern expression.

"As I live and breathe, it is Master Fitzwilliam! Or rather, Mr Darcy now, I should say."

If Elizabeth had any remaining reservations about Will's true identity, Mrs Abbot's greeting put them firmly to rest. She had no time to speak, however, for the housekeeper went on.

"Goodness gracious, Mr Darcy, how you have grown. I have not seen you since you were a lad of seventeen. You have put on two inches since, I do believe, and you were a tall boy even then. I was most sorry to hear about your father. He was a good man, and we all miss him. Sir Nicholas talks of him to this very day. Well, well, Fitzwilliam Darcy, and dressed like that! Won't Master Julian be sorry to have missed you. How can I help you, young man?"

Will greeted the housekeeper in words equally effusive and then stepped back to introduce Elizabeth.

"Unfortunate circumstances, the details of which I will not bother you with at the moment, have forced us to travel together for a time. We were hoping for accommodation for the night, and a rest for our team. They have travelled long and hard today."

Mrs Abbot examined Elizabeth as if she were a questionable piece of cabbage.

"Miss Bennet is sadly embroiled in my misfortunes," Will added, when the housekeeper's regard did not soften.

"We only have one room made up for guests…" Mrs Abbot began.

Elizabeth dropped into her best curtsey. "Thank you, ma'am. I would be comfortable in a maid's room, if necessary. I do not wish to cause trouble."

The housekeeper's face cleared up. Elizabeth had passed some unknown test. "That will not be necessary. A sweet girl, you seem, and well spoken. I can have the maids prepare one of the smaller rooms for you whilst you dine. We were not expecting company, but Cook can prepare something simple, if that is acceptable. Some stew, and fresh bread and cheese."

Will raised his eyebrows at Elizabeth in question, and she gave him a subtle nod.

"Thank you, Mrs Abbot. That will be exceedingly welcome. Please convey our gratitude to Cook."

The housekeeper beckoned them to follow her into a compact sitting room at the back of the house and bade them sit. "Somebody will call you when your meal is ready. I shall see to your rooms and ensure the horses are tended to and the carriage secured. Have you trunks?"

Elizabeth looked down at herself in sudden mortification. What must she look like? Her travelling gown was chosen for comfort, rather than elegance, and it was now covered with all the dust of the road and the disarray born from her attempted attack on Mr Darcy. No wonder the housekeeper had taken her for a doxy, if not something worse.

"Yes, there is a trunk at the back of the carriage. I thank you."

But Will just stared at the housekeeper in horror. "I, it pains me to say, have only the clothes on my back."

And as much as Elizabeth must look a fright, how much worse was poor Will, with his torn and still-filthy clothing and no opportunity to change.

Mrs Abbot shook her head and clucked at him. "You poor boy! I must have this story, for I cannot imagine what has brought you to this. Very well. Let me look through the stores. I cannot dress you as a gentleman ought to be dressed, but perhaps I can find something clean in your size. You both sit a spell, until I return."

Off she went, brisk and efficient as any good housekeeper could be, leaving Elizabeth and Will to themselves before the welcome fire.

"What do we do now?" Elizabeth asked once the door was closed. "How long do we stay here?"

Will collapsed into the embrace of the armchair he had taken, his head thrown back on his shoulders, eyes closed. He looked exhausted, as well he must be. If his story was true, and Elizabeth now believed him, he had been awake since well before dawn, and had not had an easy day. He still smelled somewhat of the muck cart despite his hurried wash at the farm, and the shadows under his eyes echoed the dark stubble that shaded his cheeks and chin.

"Tonight, at least. I cannot embroil Mrs Abbot and my friend's home in my plight, but I shall lay it all before her and ask her counsel. One does not attain the position of housekeeper to such a place without a great deal of intelligence and common sense. If I can apprise my cousin of our circumstances, if we can stay until he arrives with help, it might do. I have not had a moment to think further than surviving the next mile. Perchance Mrs Abbot will see me to some paper and ink so I can write to him." He let out a soft groan. "Yes, with her agreement, we stay for tonight, at least."

He fell silent, and Elizabeth was content to let him rest against the back of the chair. She, too, closed her eyes. It was pleasant to sit upon a soft surface that did not jolt and bump, and a rush of fatigue engulfed her. She allowed her thoughts to drift.

How long she sat thus before there came a scratch at the door, she could not say, but when she sat up, a young maid stood before her. "If you please, Miss, there is a bath ready if you wish it." The maid looked at Will, who seemed to be sleeping in his chair. "Ned will be by for him in a moment. Follow me, Miss Bennet, if you will."

The maid led her to a small bathing room near the back of the house where a large copper tub steamed. "Shall I attend you, Miss? I can take your clothes to clean them. Here is a robe, until you select your garments for later."

It was the most welcome bath Elizabeth had ever had, and only the soft murmurings of the maid behind the screen prevented her from falling asleep once more in the lightly scented water. She did not even object to being wrapped in a soft, if old, robe afterwards and bustled down a hallway and up a flight of stairs to a bedchamber looking over the gardens behind the house. Her trunk was there, and she selected a simple gown for dinner.

Will was waiting for her in the breakfast room, where they were to dine. He, too, had bathed and changed, and now wore the simple clothing of a farmer. But the clothing was clean and in good condition, and his eyes were clearer than they had been earlier. He had also shaved, and once more, Elizabeth was struck by his handsome features. In this instance, it appears, clothes did not make the man.

Mrs Abbot was with him, and from the few words Elizabeth heard, he had apprised her of their unfortunate situation.

"Run off with the carriage, and the girl with it? Tut, tut, Mr Darcy. Master Julian will never believe this! Still, I remember George Wickham. That one was trouble. So handsome and charming, but beneath it, I always thought there was something untoward, and the tales I heard from the young maids!"

It seemed, then, that Will's tale was corroborated once more. Whether this was comforting or not, Elizabeth could not decide. The housekeeper was still shaking her head about Mr Wickham.

"I am sorry he has turned out so wild. I had hoped he might turn himself around."

Mrs Abbot clucked her disapproval, before ensuring that Elizabeth had all she needed for the night. They conversed for only a minute, until the food arrived, at which point she bid them both a good night and slipped out the door.

The meal that arrived was simple but tasty, and they ate in relative silence, both choosing to retire almost immediately afterwards. There would be plenty of time to talk on the morrow as they waited for help. Will repeated his intention to send a letter to his cousin at first light, and Elizabeth agreed that another missive to her family would do well to assure them as to her wellbeing. But those would both wait. For now, all Elizabeth wanted was sleep, and the bed in her chamber promised a pleasant night after a rather horrid day. She found her way back to her room, changed into her night rail, lay her head on the soft pillow, and knew nothing more.

Her hopes for a long and comfortable sleep, however, were dashed when there came a desperate knock at her door very early the next morning. The sun was still caressing the horizon, casting that golden light that comes just after dawn, gilding the furniture in her room as it slipped through the partly open draperies.

Mrs Abbot slipped into the room with apologies on her lips and concern in her eyes.

"Hurry, Miss Bennet, there is little time to lose. Put this clothing on, and I will explain as you dress." She held out some unfamiliar garments that turned out to be a simple skirt and blouse, as a farmer's daughter might wear.

"What are these? What of my own clothing? What has happened?" She rubbed her eyes and stumbled out of the bed. Cold water from the basin woke her completely, and she pulled on the borrowed garments whilst Mrs Abbot explained.

"He is here, Wickham, the man from whom your good Mr Darcy is fleeing. I could hardly account for it in the telling, but I see it all now. I knew this fellow as a child and distrusted him then, and I cannot like him any more at present."

"He is here? Now?" Elizabeth's fingers fumbled from a shudder of fear as she buttoned the front of the blouse.

The housekeeper nodded. "He is, and I am not pleased to see him. He has come asking after Mr Darcy and yourself, and we are insisting we have seen nothing of you at all. I am sorry to see you leave, but it is the safest choice. We will delay him as much as we can, of course, keep him here so he cannot follow. Here, allow me to help you with the ties at the back of the skirt. I had the idea from the clothing we lent to your young man last night. With a large bonnet to hide your pretty face, you will look like nothing other than a young country lad and his girl. Are you ready?"

Elizabeth nodded.

"Very good! We must go down the servants' stairs. Mr Wickham is inside the house, by the front door. We thought it best to keep an eye on him, but he will see you if you take the main staircase." She pulled Elizabeth along the hallway to a panel that opened into a narrow set of stairs, and then down into the servants' areas by the kitchen. Will was already there, helping Cook load a basket with fresh buns and some fruit. He looked up at her with serious eyes.

"I am sorry, Elizabeth. I never imagined he would trace us here. Mrs Abbot, I would not have come had I thought to bring danger to you."

"Never you fear," that lady replied. "All will be well. It is only he and one other, and I have twelve strong men in the house should I need them. But I do not think he means ill to this household, only to find you. I can think of no other reason why he should come at so early an hour, other than to catch you asleep."

"As he did," Elizabeth observed.

"He shall find nothing. Mr Abbot is delaying him now with excessive kindness, and in a few minutes, once you have departed, we shall conduct him on a tour of the house to assure him that you are not here. A very ," she stressed the word, "thorough tour of the house. It will take an hour, perhaps more."

"But our belongings?"

"Your trunk is already stored away in milady's suite, and your rooms are, even now, being turned over. There will be no trace of you."

Will's brow screwed up. "And the carriage? The horses?"

Here, Mrs Abbot sighed. "There is nothing on the carriage to associate it with you, either of you, but you cannot use it, for it is in the carriage house immediate to the house, and he will see you leave. Likewise, your two horses. But here, help me fold this blanket. Jim from the village has just now come with the order of flour for the house, and he will see you back to the village, if you do not mind riding under some heavy sacks for a few minutes. I have sent a note to our stable master. Our primary stables are at the far end of the park, a mile yonder, and he will have a wagon or something ready for you, and a good strong horse as well. You can reclaim your own when you return. Hurry now. Is everything ready?"

Elizabeth turned to Will, who gave a curt nod.

"Then off you go. Here is Jim. He will see you safe."

They thanked the housekeeper with every ounce of gratitude they had and left with promises to return as soon as they could.

Mrs Abbot was true to her word. After a rather uncomfortable ride lying down under a pile of sacks in the back of Jim's cart, they were greeted by a serious stable master, who showed them what he had arranged for their use.

"‘Tis not what you are likely accustomed to, I'm afraid," he frowned, "but it's solid and will get you wherever you're going. Dobbin is a good, strong creature, he is, and goes a long way without tiring. Not the fastest horse, but neither the slowest. He'll see you well. Here is the cart we have. I believe it the best for your needs."

He took them to the lane behind the main stables, where a wooden cart stood ready, the horse already in harness. It was long enough for a man to lie down in, and had a frame that supported an oiled canvas as a tarpaulin. The covering had flaps that could be opened or closed at the front by the bench, and reminded Elizabeth of drawings of the covered wagons used in the American colonies.

"It will keep your belongings and the food basket dry," the man said, "and yourselves as well, if you need it."

The implication was clear: It might be the only shelter they would have on some days, and now Elizabeth understood the housekeeper's insistence on them taking the blankets she had prepared. If the weather turned, they would have to wrap themselves up in whatever they had, perhaps even huddle together for warmth.

There was no time to act missish or blush artfully at this. They must be long gone by the time Wickham finished his tour of the house. Will went to befriend Dobbin, the horse, with soft words and an apple, and in a moment, they were set.

With more words of thanks and directions to the best road, they departed Milden Hall for parts unknown.