Elizabeth felt herself lifted into Darcy’s arms. She still trembled, fear and relief warring within her. Shock set in, and as she drifted in and out of consciousness, someone began tugging on her gloves. Panic seized her, and she thrashed, crying out in terror.
“It is I, dearest.” Jane touched her hand and Elizabeth’s vision cleared enough to recognize her sister. “All is well. Come, let us remove this gown.” The gloves came off, and Jane undid the buttons of her gown. Elizabeth sat motionless, half her hair falling from its pins, whilst Jane gently guided her this way and that, removing the soiled garments and bathing her wounds with a warm cloth.
A nightgown was drawn down over her head, and Elizabeth flinched anew. Soon, though, Jane led her to the bed, tucked her in and handed her a cup of tea. She tasted the laudanum and drank eagerly, anticipating the dreamless sleep it would bring.
She awoke the next day, sore from head to toe. A large bruise marred her leg where Winters had kicked her; her feet were cut and swollen. Her wrists, though covered by gloves, had not been spared—the delicate skin was bruised and chafed from the tight ropes.
“How do you feel?” Lady Montrose stood in the doorway, looking far older than her years. The worry for Elizabeth had clearly worn on her.
“I believe I look worse than I feel.” In truth, Elizabeth felt much improved. Her heart no longer raced, and though the memories would surely haunt her dreams, she knew Winters was now dead and he could no longer harm her.
Grandmother came forward and folded Elizabeth into an embrace. “It is over,” she wept. “It is over.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
June 30, 1812
Yorkshire
Elizabeth
Sheneverexpectedrecoveryto be easy. The memories plagued her by night, filling her dreams with panic and terror. Grandmother could not soothe her, and after one particularly harrowing night, sent for Darcy. In his arms, she found rest at last.
In consequence, she and Darcy traveled to Meryton and secured a common license. They married quietly in Longbourn Church, with the Bennets, the Bingleys, and Lady Montrose in attendance. Returning to London for their honeymoon, they secluded themselves at Darcy House until her wounds had healed.
Lady Montrose’s excuse that Elizabeth had taken to her bed with a megrim was accepted without question. The Dowager Countess politely declined calls in the days following the ball, the servants informing callers that Elizabeth had taken ill. The knocker was kept down to afford the two ladies some reprieve.
After another month, their wedding announcement appeared in every London paper. Well-wishers descended upon Darcy House, and Elizabeth endured hours of callers when she would far rather have remained in quiet company with her husband.
In May, Charlotte called at Darcy House to share news of her betrothal. Sir William’s final efforts to see his daughter married had borne fruit: Charlotte was engaged to a parson with a respectable family living in Cheshire. She would reside in a county bordering Derbyshire and would be able to visit Elizabeth often.
In June, the season drew to a close. All matters concerning her father’s business had been resolved. She inherited Mr. Winter’s shares, and all documents pertaining to the Yorkshire mills were sent north for her attention upon arrival at Pemberley. In the pocket of Winters’s coat, they had found a letter directed to him at a boarding house on Bloomsbury Street, which led them to the rented rooms he had taken. They surmised he had taken lodgings across from his own house once Jarvis had been apprehended.
Amongst his possessions was a worn journal, within which they discovered a full confession to the murders. He claimed he did not remember his deeds, having been in his cups, though he knew he had committed the murders in Yorkshire. It would have sufficed to see him hanged, had he lived.
The Darcys departed London on the twenty-fifth of June. Lady Montrose followed in her own conveyance, and together they made quite a procession: the Darcy coach, the Montrose carriage, and an additional vehicle bearing their servants and trunks.
Before traveling on to Pemberley, and after they had stopped at Longbourn to farewell the Bennets, they had one final stop to make. Late on the last day of June, the carriages pulled up before a modest house in a small town in Yorkshire. A hazy fog hung in the air—vapours from the mills, Darcy explained—which made Elizabeth cough.
Grandmother joined her and drew a key from her reticule. She inserted it into the lock of the green-painted door and turned it. The mechanism creaked, and Elizabeth heard the dull clunk of stiff tumblers. The door groaned on its hinges as it opened.
Elizabeth stepped inside, her husband and grandmother lingering just behind. The last rays of the sun streamed through a narrow gap in the drapes. Motes danced in the beam of light. She drew in a deep breath and moved further into the house.
She remembered. “Papa’s study is through there,” she gestured. “Mama’s parlor lies that way. Our chambers were upstairs.” Her limbs trembled, and she sank to her knees, burying her face in her hands.
Darcy came to her at once and helped her rise. He embraced her, gently. “We need not go any further,” he said quietly.
She shook her head and stepped back. “No, I must see it all,” she replied. “I must see it so that I may let it go.”
“Then we shall go together.” He took her hand and pressed it tenderly. Lady Montrose moved to her other side and clasped her other hand. Together, the three of them walked through the house. All signs of the past devastation that had occurred there were erased. Every room stood bare, stripped of adornment; many contained no furniture at all. The warm, cheerful home she barely remembered no longer existed.
After an hour, they departed. “I am ready to sell it now,” she said firmly. “It is time.”
Lady Montrose embraced Elizabeth before parting ways. “It has been far too long since I visited Marston,” she said with a touch of regret. “Come to me in the autumn. I shall show you where we laid your family to rest.”
After bidding her grandmother a fond farewell, Elizabeth climbed into the carriage and settled close beside Darcy. They would reach Pemberley before nightfall. Georgiana would arrive with the Matlocks in a fortnight.
“Are you well, my love?” Darcy kissed her brow and slipped an arm around her.
