Gone to Scotland

Her fingers tightened around the strap as the carriage rocked and jolted, her eyes meeting the apprehensive gaze of the young maid sitting opposite. Their departure had—by necessity— been hurried, and the poor girl shivered in a threadbare cloak and muslin dress as the temperature fell.

Moments later their progress slackened, and the coach pulled into a cobbled inn yard. James the coachman opened the door, informing her they were changing the horses. “We’ve been on the road some hours, Ma’am. Do you require refreshment?”

The only thing she truly needed was to reach her sister, before she compounded her folly by crossing the border, but the maid looked as though she might freeze to death without something to warm her. “We will stop here long enough to take tea, James. Keep the carriage ready.”

He held the door open, allowing her to descend. Pausing only to confirm Molly was following, she swept beneath the low doorway of the inn and into a parlour that seemed wholly occupied by men of the lower classes. The innkeeper, a rotund specimen with ruddy cheeks, wiped his hands on his apron as he hurried forward to greet her, asking how he could be of service.

Being used to travelling with her family, she asked if they could take tea in a private parlour. The innkeeper was desolate, but his humble establishment boasted only one such room, which was already taken by a gentleman lately arrived from the south.

In the far corner of the parlour an argument broke out, and the raised voices caused her some concern. “Might the gentleman consent to sharing the room for a few minutes? We do not intend to stay long.”

Their host bustled away to inquire, and returned soon after with a positive response. The gentleman would be pleased to share the room with a fellow traveller.

Her relief, however, changed to consternation when she entered the private parlour to find the gentleman in question was known to her; a most disappointing circumstance. “Mr. Darcy! I did not expect to find you here.”

His lips quirked into a smile as he bowed low. “I could say the same. You are a long way from home.” His curious gaze wandered across the room to the maid, huddling by the door, before he gestured towards the meal laid out upon the table. “Would you care to join me?”

“Unfortunately, I cannot. I have not a moment to lose. My maid and I will take our tea and leave you in peace.”

“Considering our unexpected location, and your uncharacteristic haste, I imagine I can guess what errand brings you to this part of the world.”

She raised her chin. “I very much doubt it.”

“You are trying to stop your sister from forming an unwelcome and ill-advised alliance with my friend.”

“How … how did you know?” she asked, horrified at his awareness of the shocking truth, especially as she had hoped to find her sister and beg her to return home—with none the wiser—before the errant couple had chance to reach Carlisle.

Mr. Darcy cleared his throat and motioned for her to sit. As she took her place at the table, a young woman entered with a tea tray. Pouring two cups, she handed one to Molly before taking a sip from her own cup, her eyes questioning him over the gilded rim.

“He stole my travelling coach last night, bribing my own grooms in order to effect the elopement.” His lips curled into a sardonic smile. “Although he was kind enough to leave a note, apprising me of the fact. I am on my way to retrieve my property.”

“I, too, found a note in my sister’s bedroom. I believe they left shortly after dawn. She has always been an easy target for such an amiable gentleman as your friend.”

“I would hardly call her a target. That would suggest mercenary motivations. The truth is, he fell in love with her upon their first meeting at that assembly.”

She watched the ripples on the surface of her tea as she recalled the events of that evening the previous autumn. “As I recall, you attempted to discourage him.”

“As a friend I did what I believed to be right.”

“Your actions were correct, of course. The disparity in their status could not be ignored.”

He sighed, pushing his plate to one side as he reached for the bottle, topping up the burgundy in his glass. “Although, where there is true affection, the status of each must be of lesser importance,” he said, his gaze slowly lifting until it reached her eyes.

Her cheeks grew warm, the blush reaching almost to the tips of her ears. “I spoke of your friend and my sister.”

“So did I.” Mr. Darcy looked away as he crooked a finger around the crystal stem of his glass, lifting it to his lips and drank thoughtfully. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, barely reaching across the table. “Do you think anything would induce me to revisit a subject that might cause you discomfort?” When she made no reply, he returned his glass to the table and leaned back in his chair, his elbows resting on the carved arms. “I must take some share of the blame for this situation. If I had not invited him to Pemberley for the summer—”

“If papa had not been so strongly opposed to the match...”

He shook his head. “There seems little point quarrelling over who is most to blame, but I will not allow your father to be at fault. He sought only to protect his daughter, as any good father should.”

“Perhaps, if his temper had been more moderate, they might not have believed it necessary to take such a drastic step as running off to Gretna.”

Mr. Darcy looked up at her across the table, his brow creased. “Why are you charged with chasing after your sister? Should this trial not fall on your father’s shoulders?”

“If I had told papa about Kitty’s letter, he would have done more than just retrieve his daughter. I doubt not he would have challenged your friend. While I cannot like papa’s methods, you know his skill with pistol and sword, and your friend does not deserve to die.”

“So, what is your intention? Will you travel to Scotland alone?”

“If I can reach them before it is too late and make Kitty realise her error, perhaps we can return home with no one the wiser, and her reputation will be untarnished. I must only be an hour behind them.”

“You will never catch them in time.”

“Should I allow her to commit this folly and ruin her reputation? No. I would rather die.”

“I would not wish that.” He fell silent, nudging the cold salmon around his plate. After a moment, he said, “Then stay here and let me go on alone. My curricle can travel faster than your coach. It will be dark in a few hours and the road at night is no place for a lady with only a young girl and an old coachman for protection.”

“But my presence is needed to give Kitty countenance. Without a chaperone, she will be no better off alone with two gentlemen than with one.”

He leaned closer as his voice dropped to a whisper. “Your sister’s respectability is lost already, if I am any judge.”

“Oh no! Do not say so. She cannot be beyond hope.”

Standing abruptly, he crossed the room, murmuring instructions to the maid before seeing Molly out of the door. He walked back to the table, but instead of returning to his place, he dropped into the chair by her side, leaning towards her. “I only speak the truth as I find it. Your sister was a willing accomplice to more than just marriage. I am sorry to speak so plainly, but my friend believed himself honour bound to marry your sister, despite your father’s objections. He might have been wild in his youth, but he is an honourable man.”

She felt a lump grow in her throat as a tear welled in the corner of her eye. Pursing her lips, she failed to hold back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. “What should I do?”

His soft linen handkerchief blotted her tears. “Let them go, Anne.”

“I … I cannot!”

“You must.” He took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. “I truly believe this elopement will be in Catherine’s best interest. She may already be with child, and surely your sister unwed would be a greater scandal than a marriage at Gretna. Your father will rant and rave at first, but at least Lewis has property and a knighthood, which is what he wishes for you both, is it not?”

“Papa may wish us to marry into noble families, but I have never sought that in a husband.”

“If that is true, why did you reject me, Anne?”

Feeling the heat rise in her face, Lady Anne Fitzwilliam dropped her attention to the worn carpet. “Your proposal confused me. We had been friends for such a long time, but I was young and your offer took me unawares.”

He touched a fingertip to her chin, encouraging her to lift her eyes to his. “The fault was mine. I cannot tell when the feelings of friendship grew into something more, but that year, when you made your debut, I saw you transformed from a scrubby girl—my long time playmate—into a beautiful young woman. I knew then that my family’s occasional visits to Matlock were no longer enough. I wanted you with me forever. I should have known you did not feel the same, or given you time to accustom yourself to the idea. I spoke in haste, because if I did not then I knew someone else would.”

Memories burst forth from the deepest recesses of her mind, of warm summer days playing the park with Kitty, George and their brother Henry. The Fitzwilliam siblings had thought of George Darcy as another brother, and in turn he—as an only child—had relished their company. Since she had rejected his proposal their friendship had never been the same. “I found myself surrounded by a sea of strangers that year, and the one friend I hoped to rely on seemed to change before my eyes. I have since had many months to consider the matter more carefully. Having met the best, and the worst, society has to offer, I could only lament the loss of your friendship and deeply regret my impulsive reply.”

“Oh, Annie. You never lost my friendship, or my love. Tell me now that you feel the same and I promise only death will separate us.”

She had seen George grow from a boy into a man, but only now did she recognise in him the guise of a lover, a protector, a husband. “I may not have loved you before, but I love you now, so very much.”

He gathered her into his arms. “Then let us return to Matlock, and allow Catherine and Lewis to make their own decisions in life. They are both flighty, irresponsible creatures. We will have to hope that time—and marriage—will improve their characters.”