Chapter Eight
Whether or not I had a tangible memento of the previous evening, the throbbing pain in my knee reminded me at my first moment of consciousness.
I considered my options. There was every chance news of my indiscretions had now made it to my brother, and I doubted that conversation would go well. The urge to lock myself in my bedroom and sequester myself away until I expired from lack of sustenance was appealing.
Seclusion also meant never seeing the library again, or the shell grotto, and never even getting a chance of finding out what happened to Kitty.
Rising on shaky legs, I pulled on my secondhand coat,sinking into the familiarity of its embrace. I got as far as the door before it opened in front of me, Emma in the doorway.
“You should not be out of bed,” she said sternly. “I have only just talked Mr. Darcy down from summoning every doctor within thirty miles. Do not make me regret it.”
She gave me little choice in the matter, blocking my escape with the tray in her hands. Perching on the edge of the mattress was about as obliging as I could bring myself to be. Emma set the tray down beside me, passing over a cup of tea.
“I need to change that bandage again,” she said. “And a letter came for you this morning, sent back from Lambton with the carriage.”
My heart leapt into my throat, leaving no space for the tea I was trying to drink. Spluttering and coughing, I spilt a wave of liquid over the tray as I set down the cup and snatched up the letter just in time to rescue it from soaking.
My name was scrawled across the front in looping script I’d seen spill from Kitty’s pen. I tried to talk myself to calm as I ripped open a hastily formed seal and unfolded the paper, keeping it close to my chest as I read.
My Dearest George,
I am writing this in the carriage as we travel, so please do excuse the occasional wandering line. Pemberley is still in view, and I hate that I am leaving you behind, particularly in such a haste. Despite my most ardent pleading, Lizzy was adamant there was no time. I think she was still a little in shock afterhow she found us. But rest assured she has spoken not of it, and I do not believe she seeks to punish us. Perhaps she does not fully understand what she interrupted. She has not said a word to your brother. Even if she had wanted to, there was simply no time.
Tonight a messenger brought word that Father is ill and Mother wants us back at Longbourn at once. She fears he will not recover and that we must say our last goodbyes, but she would fear that if he had but caught a chill. Still, it would be a terrible thing if he were truly unwell and we did not go to him, as I am sure you can understand.
I will return to Pemberley as soon as I can, if you wish me to. In truth, I think the only thing that could keep me from seeing you again is a request from you that I stay away. I do not pretend to understand these feelings, or flatter myself to think you might share them, but you stun me, Miss Darcy, and leave me quite at odds with sanity. I rather think I like it.
Yours humbly and reverently,
Kitty
I traced over Kitty’s name, allowing myself to smile for the first time since she left me in the grotto. It seemed like the best news I could’ve hoped for. Elizabeth had to at least have her suspicions regarding what she’d seen, but it wasn’t her chief concern.
“Good news?” Emma’s smile was knowing but kind.
I nodded, carefully refolding the letter and slipping it between the pages ofThe Disposition of an English Lady. It felt too dangerous to keep it out in the light. As terrible as it wasto think news of the Bennets’ ailing father to be a positive thing, I couldn’t help my relief.
“Do you know where my brother is?” I asked Emma.
“That is a question I will only answer once I’ve seen to your knee.”
I huffed but sat obediently while Emma cleaned and rewrapped my wounds. The cuts looked almost pitiful in the light of day, raw and pink but unbloodied. It seemed inconceivable that they could’ve caused me so much pain. The skin around them, however, had darkened to an ominous purple, mottled right across my kneecap. Even after a night of healing, it continued to twinge whenever I flexed my leg. As soon as Emma tied off the new bandages, I cautiously got to my feet and waited expectantly, balancing my weight on my good leg.
“He was in his study ten minutes ago,” Emma obliged. “Would you not like to dress for the day?”
“No, thank you.” I rushed through the words, not wanting to miss Darcy. If I had my way, I was going to need something more substantial than morning dress.
I found Darcy in his study as Emma had said, standing beside his desk with Pemberley’s steward and going over a book of accounts. When he saw me lingering in the doorway, he broke off midsentence to usher me to a chair.
“You should be resting,” he scolded me, before turning his attention back to the steward. “Thank you, Mr. Adams. I trust the estate will be in capable hands until I return, as always.”
Mr. Adams bowed his head, ignoring the presence ofhis employer’s woefully undignified younger sister. My hair had not seen a comb since the ball, and I certainly was not dressed for polite company. As soon as Mr. Adams had left, I started talking before Darcy could send me back to bed or call a doctor.
“Where are you going? Did you hear from Elizabeth?”
“I did,” he said, pulling a letter from his jacket pocket. “Her father—”
“I know.”
