Page 84 of Heiress of Longbourn (Pride and Prejudice Variations)

Annabelle opened her eyes with a sense of profound confusion. Something seemed wrong, though wrong in a good way. That did not make sense. How could something be wrong in a good way?

Nonetheless, while she felt tired and thirsty she…

Ah, she was lying down on something soft and extremely comfortable! That was it; sleeping in a carriage always gave her a stiff neck. She must have slept very long and heavily if they had arrived at the next inn already. Had Sir Walter carried her into her bedchamber? That was aromantic but embarrassing prospect given that inns were public places.

She squinted at the window, which only provoked more confusion. The casements, which were covered with elegant blue curtains, glowed from the sun; it was therefore still day, and why would they stop early when both she and Sir Walter were eager to attain Gretna Green as soon as possible?

It was also absurdly quiet! Sir Walter had deliberately chosen inns which did not cater specifically to the gentry because he feared that Annabelle’s parents might send someone to stop them. The hostelries were thus noisy in the extreme, with men coming and going, with horses neighing and trotting, with servants scurrying to and fro. This place was too quiet.

Annabelle sat up and looked around her with growing alarm. This bedchamber could not be in an inn; the dark blue carpet was lush and expensive, the furniture was exceptionally well made and had been polished to a glow, the…

“Oh, Miss Bryant, you are awake,” a voice said from the corner of the room. Annabelle jerked in alarm and turned toward the voice, then relaxed at the sight of the young woman standing with her hands folded in front of her. The girl was dressed neatly in servant garb, and her petite frame and smiling face were both reassuring.

“I am certain you are very thirsty, Miss,” the girl continued, gliding over to a pitcher on a small table near the bed.“Let me pour you a glass of water.”

Annabelle was extremely thirsty and accepted the full cup with enthusiasm. She drank the entire glass down and heaved a deep sigh of satisfaction; it was odd that she had been so thirsty when she woke up lately, though Marianne said it was normal enough when one was traveling long distances. The air was dry and dusty, after all.

“Where am I?” Annabelle asked.

“You are at Pemberley, Miss Bryant, which is the estate of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. I know that you must have many questions, and Mrs. Darcy will be available shortly to answer them. Now, I am certain you would like to bathe, and we have pressed a new dress for you to change into when you are done. I will have the maids bring hot water for the tub in the adjacent dressing room.”

Annabelle frowned in bewilderment. On the one hand, a bath was a delightful prospect after several days on the road. On the other hand, where was Marianne? Where was her dear Walter?

“Where is Sir Walter Greystone?” Annabelle demanded, throwing the covers off her and rising to her full, not very impressive height. “Where is my maid, Marianne?”

“Marianne is also resting, as she is quite fatigued. As for Sir Walter, I do not know exactly where he is, but I assure you, Miss, that Mrs. Darcy will be able to answer all your questions.”

Annabelle was sorely confused, but the temptation of a thorough wash was too much to overcome; in any case, it was obvious that this was a gentleman’s establishment. Perhaps this Mr. Darcy was a friend of her darling Walter, and her beloved had elected to spend the night here?

“Thank you,” she said. “I would greatly enjoy a bath.”

***

An hour later, Annabelle followed the maid into a sophisticated room which was occupied by a gentleman and lady, both dressed with subdued elegance. The man was tall and handsome and looked to be some thirty years of age. The lady sitting nearby was beautiful, with dark hair peeking out from under her cap.

“Miss Bryant,” Elizabeth said, rising to her feet and gazing sympathetically at her guest. “I am Mrs. Darcy and this is my husband, Mr. Darcy. Please do have a seat, and I will have the maid bring in tea and biscuits. Dinner will be in two hours, but I am certain you are hungry.”

Annabelle curtsied to her host and hostess and took a seat, her eyes large with confusion. Her bath had been lovely, and she felt much better in fresh clothing, but she was increasingly bewildered. She had been guided through long paneled hallways and down two sets of stairs before they had arrived at this comfortable sitting room, fitted up in yellow and green, with well-made furniture. The mansion was absolutely enormous, along with being carefully maintained. She knew that her fiancé was a nobleman with connections to many highborn men, but this particular friend must be exceptionally wealthy to own such an establishment.

The door opened and two maids bustled in with tea service. Mrs. Darcy poured her a cup of tea and, at Annabelle’s request, added two lumps of sugar.

“There you are, Miss Bryant. Now, my dear, I am certain you are mightily confused as to why you are here.”

“Yes, Madam,” Annabelle agreed, taking a sip of truly excellent tea and taking a mouthful of biscuit. She was ravenous. “Sir Walter never mentioned Pemberley, and I cannot imagine how we came to be here.”

Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged quick glances and Elizabeth sighed and said, “My dear Miss Bryant, I fear that you will find our conversation quite distressing. Please start by reading this letter, which we received from your estimable father.”

Annabelle sucked in her breath at these words and reached hesitantly toward the paper, which Mrs. Darcy held in one small hand. The girl took the letter and gazed upon it as if it might bite her, then carefully opened it.

May 14th, 1813

Greensides

Lady Catherine,

I greatly appreciate your kind offer to assist us with rescuing our precious Annabelle, who has disappeared in the company of Sir Walter Greystone. They are almost certainly on their way to Gretna Green for a marriage across the anvil, as our younger daughter is not yet of age.

Sir Walter is well known as a gamester, a spendthrift and a fortune hunter. I confess that I was a fool; I neglected to warn Annabelle about his reputation because I assumed, naively, that he would pursue my older daughter, Felicity, who has much experience with fortune hunters. It is obvious that Sir Walter learned, somehow, that my aunt, Lady Comerford, who is in very poor health, has made Annabelle the heiress of her entire fortune. That is the only reason that a man of Sir Walter’s temperament would run off with a girl not out of her teens.

Mrs. Bryant and I are most distressed; it is bad enough that Sir Walter is over thirty years of age, with a rakish reputation, but there were frightening rumors concerning the death of his first wife, who fell down a set of stairs two years ago and died of a broken neck.

If you can do anything to save our daughter from a devastating marriage, I beg you to do so. As for her reputation, it is likely ruined, but we care not for that; I merely wish to know that she is safe, not in the clutches of a fiend.

Sincerely,

Mr. Joshua Bryant

Annabelle read the letter once, twice, three times, and swallowed convulsively, her head swimming. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she blurted out, “It is not true, it is not. Sir Walter is everything that is good, and he loves me. He loves me!”

Mrs. Darcy rose to her feet, walked over, and sat down in the chair next to Annabelle.

“My dear Miss Bryant,” she said gently, “I understand that you are much attached to Sir Walter. I have never met him myself, but gentlemen of his persuasion are often gifted at making themselves attractive to females.”

“Where is he?” Annabelle demanded shrilly. “Where is Sir Walter!? He will tell you that he ... he adores me as much as I adore him.”

“He is probably on his way back to London,” Mr. Darcy said, “as I told him that we would be keeping you and your maid safely here at Pemberley.”

“How dare you take me away from my intended husband? How dare you abduct me?”

Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged looks, and the gentleman said gravely, “Miss Bryant, are you aware that Sir Walter was drugging you with laudanum during your journey?”

“Drugging me? I do not ... what?”

“With laudanum, my dear,” Mrs. Darcy explained, reaching out to take Annabelle’s hands in her own. “Your maid, Marianne, was ordered to add laudanum to your lemonade so that you would sleep much of the journey away.”

The girl stared at her hostess incredulously. “Is that why ... why it was so bitter?”

“Yes, laudanum tastes unpleasant,” the lady said.

Annabelle blew out a breath and straightened her back. “I did not know that, but what of it? The trip was a long one. Perhaps Sir Walter merely wished for the time to pass faster.”

“Your maid, Marianne, who accompanied us here to Pemberley, has admitted that she and Sir Walter are engaged in an intimate relationship and that they shared a bed the last three nights.”

Annabelle choked at these words and exclaimed, “That hussy, that trollop, that harlot! She must be lying and if she is not...! How dare she!”

“Now Miss Bryant,” Elizabeth said sternly, “Marianne should not have given into Sir Walter’s importuning, but the position of a servant girl is a difficult, sometimes dangerous, one. It was your fiancé who chose to make a maid his mistress.”

“You are lying, all of you!” Annabelle shrieked, starting to sob. “It cannot be true, it cannot! I love him, and he loves me!”

The Darcys exchanged sorrowful glances and Elizabeth held out her handkerchief, which Annabelle took with a mutter of thanks. After a few minutes, once the girl had recovered sufficiently to speak, Darcy took a few steps forward and said, “Miss Bryant, you have never met us before, and you have no reason to trust us except that we do have the letter from your father. I promise that you are entirely safe here. Your parents will arrive in the next few days and take charge of you. I know you are greatly distressed and upset, and that is entirely reasonable given the difficult circumstances.”

“I want to go to London immediately,” Annabelle exclaimed.

“You cannot,” Elizabeth said sternly. “Your father’s greatest wish is for your safety, but we also hope to keep your reputation intact as well. We intend to have your parents and sister spend a few weeks here, and we will spread the word that your family decided to sojourn in Derbyshire with us.”

“Sir Walter will tell everyone of our journey to Gretna Green,” Annabelle declared, lifting her chin. “If my parents truly care about my reputation, they will allow me to marry him!”

“For his sake, he had better not,” Darcy declared coldly. “He is deeply in debt, and I am in the process of buying up the mortgages of his estate. If he defames you or your family, I will have him cast into debtors’ prison.”

“You are ... you are cruel and deceptive! I insist you let me go! Let me go!”