Page 48 of I Thee Wed (Pride And Prejudice Variation #2)

The Rosings household had been busy with travel preparations since eight o’clock that morning.

By eleven o’clock, Darcy’s carriage stood ready with the trunks secured, and Mrs. Jenkinson sat at the entrance, waiting for the others to come down.

Darcy’s grey was saddled and held by a stable boy while Mr. Darcy walked around the carriage, checking that all was in order.

It was already late when Lady Catherine rang her bedchamber bell and sent for Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Richard tapped on her door and entered at her call. “Aunt, is everything well?”

Lady Catherine dismissed her maid and then took his arm and led him to Anne’s room. Once Anne’s maid was sent away and the door closed, Lady Catherine turned to her nephew with a frown.

“Richard,” she said, “I insist that Anne be carried to the carriage upon a litter. The servants must believe her very ill, in need of care that cannot be procured here in Hunsford. Word will spread through the parish, and all will understand our removal.”

Richard’s eyes gleamed. “That is an excellent notion, Aunt Catherine. Yet I can go one better.” He looked at Anne, seated quietly at her dressing table.

“Cousin, I shall carry you down myself. Only close your eyes and let your head loll a little. You will appear insensible, and no one will suspect the truth.”

Lady Catherine’s frown softened. “That will do.” She turned to Anne. “You will do as you are told, Anne. I will have no tricks from you today.”

Anne inclined her head. “Of course, Mother. I shall do what is necessary to ensure we are safe.”

Richard pursed his lips. “Anne will need a bed in the carriage. Aunt, please ring for the servants and have them fetch pillows and a leaf from the small dining table. We shall contrive a couch of blankets and cushions upon it. Once Anne is laid there, she will appear at death’s door.

Word will fly across the parish before the hour is out, and none will suspect that you are fleeing. ”

Anne gave a little laugh, quickly stifled when her mother glanced at her. “What am I to wear for this performance?”

Richard tapped his chin in mock consideration. “Something ghastly, if you please. Puce would serve if you have it. Choose a gown that makes you look jaundiced or ashy. Remain here until I return for you. I must go below and see to the litter.”

Lady Catherine nodded, satisfied. Richard left, and soon the household was astir. Whispers flew that Miss de Bourgh was gravely ill. By the time Richard came back bearing Anne in his arms, her eyes closed and her head slack against his shoulder, the tale was already on its way through the village.

Darcy, not privy to the scheme, grew alarmed when he saw his cousin descending the stairs with Anne in his arms, pale and limp. He hurried forward. “Richard, do you need my help? Shall I carry her? Heaven help us, she must have a doctor!”

Richard said briskly, “Darcy, I am perfectly able to carry my cousin. She weighs no more than a feather. Go and see that the carriage door is open, so I may lay her down at once.”

Darcy obeyed, still troubled. Lady Catherine followed slowly, a handkerchief pressed to her mouth, her head bowed as if in grief.

Anne, meanwhile, concentrated on her part.

She heard the steady beat of Richard’s heart as he carried her and caught the faint scent of shaving soap and cologne.

The strength of his arms was a pleasure she had not anticipated, yet she quickly turned her thoughts to her task, keeping her neck slack so her head lolled with each step, and letting her arm hang limply at her side.

He placed her on the improvised bed and drew a blanket over her. Before rising, he bent close. “You, my dear cousin, are not to entertain any man’s addresses but mine.”

She whispered back, eyes still closed. “Cousin, I have been an independent woman for years. I am not used to taking orders from anyone, much less a man.”

He chuckled softly. “Then it is fortunate that I am neither officious nor high-handed. We should get on very well. But be safe, Anne. Do nothing to draw notice.”

She squeezed his hand. “I will. Thank you, Richard.”

Darcy, by this time, had helped Lady Catherine into the carriage. She leaned heavily on his arm, her eyes narrowed as though in tears. Once settled with Mrs. Jenkinson across from her and a blanket tucked about her knees, she looked the picture of maternal anxiety.

Darcy rejoined Richard outside. He pressed his hand to his cousin’s shoulder. “Take care. When do you travel to London?”

“I shall look about Westerham first, to learn more of this mason and his trade,” Richard answered. “Then I mean to ride to Romney Marsh and on to Rye. Aunt Catherine has heard those places named often by gossiping parishioners.”

Darcy frowned. “I am concerned for Anne. Should I stop for a doctor?”

Richard stifled a laugh and whispered, “It is all part of the ruse, Darcy. Anne is perfectly well. Now go. If you set out now, you will be in London in time for dinner and a night’s rest.”

“Very well. Send your correspondence to me in London, and it shall be forwarded to me in Scotland. I mean to remain at Blair Atholl for only a week, then I will return to you.”

With that, Darcy mounted his horse, and the little cavalcade departed.

They reached London that evening. Darcy wished to remain at Darcy House for several days to rest and attend to his affairs, but his aunt refused.

“Fitzwilliam, we must not linger here in town. Every hour we remain here puts us in further danger. I must insist that we be on the road tomorrow as early as possible so that we can put miles between us and the gang.”

Darcy agreed to do as she asked, and all three women were seated in the carriage by eight o’clock the following morning. Darcy placed a basket of food on the seat next to Mrs. Jenkinson.

“Lady Catherine, we will not stop at a coaching inn to eat. I think it would be best to pause somewhere along the road where there are no people to see us.”

He mounted his horse and they departed London.