Darcy complied in a haze and allowed his cousin to help him to his bed, obediently swallowing the laudanum-infused brandy that was put to his lips.
“Why the hell did you ply me with laudanum? You know I detest the vile stuff.”
“Believe me, it is for your own good. You are hysterical—something I have seen multiple times in the field. Unfortunately, laudanum and rest are the only remedy, and before you rightfully curse me to hell, you would not want to see Mrs Darcy when they pull her out of the water. To be submerged for so long does heinous things to the body, and considering your present state, it is unadvisable. It is better that someone else identifies the remains.”
Darcy made to protest; he had not yet succumbed to the haze when there was a knock on the door. The muffled sounds of his butler informed Richard, “A body has been found.”
He was up on his feet in an instant and staggered awkwardly to the door. Blasted laudanum.
“You, my friend, are not fit to be seen and can barely walk. Allow me to go in your stead.”
“You do not even know what she looks like,” Darcy growled.
“Have you had her likeness taken?”
Darcy shook his head. Another of his failings, forgetting to order a painting of his beloved before it was too late. But his sister was forever sketching this and that. She might be of aid.
“Georgiana!” he bellowed.
The girl hastened out of her room.
“Have you sketched Elizabeth?”
His legs were buckling under his weight. He may not make it to the Serpentine’s receiving house, where the drowned were kept until they were claimed by their family.
“Yes,” Georgiana confirmed.
She disappeared into her room and returned with a sketch book under her arm. The drawings swam before his eyes.
“Show it to Richard.”
Utterly humiliated, he sank to the floor. It was fortunate that he had the wall at his back or he would have been prone.
“Put her in the mistress’s chamber. I want to see her with my own eyes, even if I must crawl to the room.”
“Of course,” Richard called on his way down the stairs.
Darcy was utterly humiliated when Georgiana and Mary more or less carried him to his bed and tucked him in.
Chapter 22 Evanescence
Gracechurch Street, early morning, June 14th
The sky was still lit by the crescent moon when they loaded the carriage and left Mr Gardiner’s house at three o’clock in the morning.
Eighty-six miles later, Lady Ilse Louise Reimarus walked down the Harwich dock with her lady’s maid, followed by two stout footmen carrying her trunks. She was finely dressed in her aunt’s best teal travelling gown and wore a salmon-coloured shawl over her shoulders. Ironically, the infamous Mrs Bean had made the costume.
She had even coloured her lips to look like one of the painted butterflies of the nobility. The only chink in her disguise was that Karl and Otto’s brawn were a bit at odds with their fine livery, but it was the best she could do at such short notice.
To conceal her identity in the unlikelihood she should happen upon an acquaintance, Elizabeth had donned the largest bonnet she could find in her uncle’s warehouses. Mr Gardiner had even refused her payment, declaring the monstrosity was impossible to sell at any price. She now understood why, as a gust of wind ripped the offending article off her head, taking quite a few hairpins with it on its heavenly flight.
“Parasol,” Lydia barked at Karl, whilst Otto chased the wayward hat.
Karl obediently obstructed a laughing Elizabeth from view with the parasol, whilst Lydia repaired the damage to her hair. Otto managed to catch her bonnet before it landed in the sea, and soon she was put to rights, whilst looking about to see if anyone had noticed her mishap.
It was a miracle that they were here, that her husband had not found her yesterday, after she escaped Martha in Hyde Park. Grateful for small mercies, she boarded theFreihandel, a merchant ship destined for Kiel.
The weather was fair and the voyage exhilarating, though her heart ached in guilt for Mr Darcy. It was to be hoped that he was not in too much despair, that her letter had mollified him, and that her sisters were consoling him as best they could. And if not, her residual anger did not allow her compassion to overrule her sense of justice.
