when you begged leave to retire.”
“I believed we had both answered enough of his questions for the present.”
She went to her open trunk to retrieve her nightdress. “He certainly posed a great many of them, though I think most were to be expected. Your mother is the reason he invited us here, after all. Of course he would want to know more about her.” She frowned. “I thought I had seen my nightdress toward the top of this trunk when we were dashing around here earlier.”
“I saw it there, too.” He draped his coat over the back of a chair and neatly folded the neckcloth.
She continued rummaging through half-folded stacks of clothing. She had not realized she’d made such a mess of her maid’s packing in her haste to dress for dinner. “The captain is quite an enigma. I wonder what he looks like without the bandages. Oh — here is the nightdress, under my blue sarsenet. I thought that gown was in the other trunk.” She held the nightdress by its shoulders and shook it open. “It was a little unsettling, was it not, that the captain should talk about never knowing when a letter might turn up, and about letters inspiring people to search for forgotten things, when we so recently found that letter of your mother’s urging us to do just that?”
“That is a matter Captain Tilney need never learn anything about.”
“Agreed.”
He regarded her current gown with dismay. “I suppose you require assistance with those buttons again.”
“Do not complain. They are easier to open than close.”
He indulged in a wicked grin. “I know.”
She laughed, pleased by the display of Darcy’s less serious side. It had been little evident since their discovery of Lady Anne’s letter, and she welcomed its return. Perhaps engaging Dr. Severn had helped improve her husband’s humor by easing his anxiety. If so, she considered the change worth tolerating the physician’s haughtiness.
“Shame on you, Mr. Darcy. We are in an abbey.”
“A former abbey.”
She came to him and offered him her back so that he could start on the buttons.
“All right, a former abbey,” she said. “And one straight out of a horrid novel, I might add. The house is gloomy and dark, and we are not allowed to move about it freely. There seems to be a decided lack of servants — including our own. And for all we know, our host could be a phantom under those layers of bandages.”
“I doubt a phantom would swear upon his soul quite so often.”
Just as she finished changing into her nightdress, a thunderclap rent the air. It was another sound, however, that caused her to jump. “Did you hear that?”
“I expect everyone within twenty miles heard it.”
“Not the thunder — over there.” She pointed at the wall with the tapestry. She thought she had heard a thump from that quarter following the boom.
“Perhaps the force of the thunder shook some object.”
“Are you not going to examine the tapestry?”
“I thought my investigative responsibility was limited to black veils.”
“A tapestry is close enough.”
He crossed the room. The large silk-and-wool tapestry depicted the Annunciation, and appeared old enough that it might have hung at Northanger in the days when the building had indeed been an abbey. Though the centuries had dulled most of the colors, the heavenly light radiating from the virgin and the archangel stood out brightly.
Darcy caught the edge of the tapestry and pulled it to one side. To their surprise, the fabric parted down the center, revealing a door in the wall behind it. The door’s paneling matched that of the rest of the room, so that when closed — as it now was — it blended into the wall unnoticed. Such doors existed in homes throughout England; Pemberley had dozens.
“It is an ordinary servants’ door, nothing more.” He opened it to reveal a small, dark landing and narrow stair. “The thunder must have rattled it. You have nothing to fear but your own imagination.” He closed the door and allowed the tapestry to fall back into place. When it hung properly, the center division was indiscernible.
She let out a long breath and realized she had been more alarmed than she thought. The atmosphere of Northanger Abbey was starting to play havoc with her nerves. She longed to be home, in the comfort of Pemberley, away from strange houses, strange servants, and strange captains.
“Darcy, despite our having discovered a servant’s door rather than a skeleton, I must confess that I have not felt entirely comfortable at Northanger Abbey since the moment we entered it. There is something not quite right here.”
“Nothing a competent domestic staff could not address. Though having now met Captain Tilney, I believe the master himself partially responsible for the lax standards. I suspect he fails to set the proper tone.”
“Nevertheless, I cannot imagine enduring a full se’nnight of this.”
“A premature departure would insult our host.”
“Despite his assurances to the contrary, our presence is an imposition while he recovers.”
“Even so, we cannot simply leave.”
“Yes, we can. We can quit Northanger tomorrow morning — our trunks are even packed. Please, Darcy. We have been gone from Pemberley many weeks. I just want to go home.” Away from Captain Tilney, away from Lady Catherine, away from Wickham and Lydia and all the other vexations that had comprised their trip.
Darcy studied her face a long time before replying. She knew that her request asked him to ignore his sense of propriety, to place her wishes above his natural inclination.
“Very well,” he said finally. “In truth, now that we have met Captain Tilney, I am not certain I want to cultivate his acquaintance to a high degree. Nonetheless, we must take care to avoid giving offense.”
She thanked him with an embrace. “We shall invent a plausible excuse.”
Outside, the wind moaned its protest and rain furiously assaulted the windows. Though morning offered the promise of returning home, it would be a long night.
“I suppose,” he said, stepping out of her arms, “an early departure reduces the likelihood of our finding a black veil requiring my examination.” He drew closed a set of curtains to shut out the storm.
“Not necessarily. This room holds numerous draperies, two tablecloths, and a canopy to occupy you before we leave.”
“Those also fall under my province?”
“Your sphere includes all hanging fabric.”
“All?” His eyes dropped to the hem of her nightdress. He released an exaggerated sigh and met her gaze. “With that much responsibility, I could be up half the night investigating.”
Against staying longer, however, Elizabeth was positively resolved.
Morning saw no end to the gloom that engulfed Northanger. Dawn could scarcely be said to have broken, so dark did the sky remain. The rain continued, less violent but steady, and one could not determine where the mist ended and the clouds began. An equally melancholy atmosphere pervaded the house.
Darcy and Elizabeth helped each other dress. Their personal servants were still nowhere to be found, and further enquiries to Dorothy regarding their whereabouts produced only more paltering. After dining alone in the breakfast parlor, they returned to the drawing room for another audience with the captain.
He sat in the same chair, his white bandages a stark contrast to the purple velvet. “Well, now, this is a dreary start to the day, is it not? Thought surely the storm would blow itself out after keeping me awake half the night, but the rain simply will not quit. I believe it continues solely to vex us. Oh, well — I suppose it saves you the obligation of asking for a tour of Northanger Park this morning, and me the trouble of showing it to you. We instead
