her bed. Disappointment swept through her. She had fervently hoped that Mr. Darcy would have paid another visit in the two days she had continued here. She knew in her heart, however, that it would have been highly unlikely.
The news Elizabeth had relayed to him about Wickham’s involvement in her sister’s running away was bad enough, but what her misplaced letter had cost him was another. That was her fault, and he now had to admit to his close friends, his cousin, and most likely his sister, what he had hoped to always keep from them. She was quite certain it would be terribly humiliating for a man of his standing to have to admit to being refused in marriage.
Elizabeth spent her final evening with the Ketterlings in their sitting room, as they had done every evening. Elizabeth was finally able to attend to the words of the book, but this evening Mrs. Ketterling seemed more inclined to talk than focus on her stitches. She anticipated Elizabeth seeing her aunt again and wished her to convey a message to her. Initially, she only wished her to know how much they had enjoyed the company of her niece. In the course of the evening, however, she kept thinking of additional things she would like to tell her. At length, Elizabeth suggested that she write her aunt a letter. Mrs. Ketterling agreed that would be the best thing to do, and promptly sat down at a small desk and penned a missive. Elizabeth was relieved, as she would have felt awkward passing on to her aunt the praises Mrs. Ketterling had bestowed on herself.
Even before the clock struck nine o’clock, Elizabeth excused herself. Although she would not be waking much earlier than was the norm for her, she expressed to them a wish to retire early to allow a good night’s sleep. In truth, she hoped to have some time to herself as she anticipated her departure on the morrow. Now that the time had drawn near, she felt almost completely consumed by grief, as deep as when she had lost her father.
When she finally climbed into bed and rested her head upon her pillow, she knew sleep would elude her. Her heart ached, her eyes burned from the tears she had shed, and her mind would not relinquish the images of Mr. Darcy from appearing before her. She wondered how long it would be before she could ever forget him. Perhaps never!
Elizabeth woke when the hall clock struck five o’clock. Having had mere fragments of sleep, she awoke with a heaviness that proclaimed to her the distress of her heart even before her mind clearly recollected it. She lay in bed briefly, and then sat up and stretched, touching her toes to the floor. She walked over to pick up her shawl, which lay folded on a nearby chair, and tossed it over her shoulders to take off the slight chill of early morning.
Stepping to the window, Elizabeth peered out and noticed a faint slice of light hovering over the tips of the hills in the distance. She knew the carriage from Pemberley would arrive soon.
There was a light tap at the door, and a maid announced herself. Elizabeth bid her come in, and she entered with a kettle of warm water, which she poured into the basin. Elizabeth thanked her and told her she would be downstairs shortly.
Elizabeth walked over to the basin and dipped a cloth in the water. Bringing it to her face, she pressed it to her eyes, hoping to diminish the redness. If the Ketterlings noticed, perhaps they would attribute it to lack of sleep or sadness over her youngest sister’s situation. Once dressed, she came downstairs and found Mrs. Ketterling waiting for her.
“Good morning, Mrs. Ketterling,” Elizabeth said. “There was no need for you to rise and see me off. We said our good-byes last night.”
Mrs. Ketterling shook her head. “I have every intention of seeing you off, Miss Bennet. I will see you into the carriage and make sure you are properly tended. It is the least I can do for my good friend.”
“You are too kind,” Elizabeth replied.
They were served a light meal. Elizabeth, however, ate sparingly, as she did not find herself particularly hungry. She did enjoy a cup of tea, and as she was taking the last sip, there was a tap at the door.
“You carriage has arrived, I do believe,” Mrs. Ketterling said with a wink.
Elizabeth’s heart sputtered at the glimmer of hope that Mr. Darcy would have accompanied it.
A servant soon appeared, announcing the arrival of Pemberley’s carriage. If Mr. Darcy had been present, he would have certainly been announced as well. Elizabeth’s heart sank.
Elizabeth and Mrs. Ketterling walked out as her baggage was taken to the carriage. She saw that the only ones who had come from Pemberley were the driver, a maidservant, and a manservant. The manservant easily hoisted Elizabeth’s baggage onto the carriage and secured it. The maidservant approached Elizabeth, curtseyed, and introduced herself. Elizabeth remembered seeing this young lady, who was about her own age or a little older, while at Pemberley. Her name was Anna.
Once everything was loaded on to the carriage, Elizabeth turned and wrapped her arms around Mrs. Ketterling. She had much to thank her for, and she wanted to make certain she knew she had appreciated all they had done for her. Tears filled her eyes, and this time Elizabeth was not so inclined to hide them from her, for Mrs. Ketterling would understand the reason for them.
The sun was now peeking over the tops of the distant hills. The few clouds that dotted the sky were filled with reds and yellows against the dark blue. A few stars could still be seen in the early morning dawn. This would likely be the last Derbyshire sunrise she would ever see. It would have been beautiful from atop the ridge.
After a tearful good-bye, Elizabeth stepped into the carriage. As she sat down, its plush cushion startled her. She was not used to riding in such luxury. Anna handed her a blanket and a pillow, which Elizabeth accepted gratefully. As the carriage pulled away, Elizabeth gave a final wave of her hand to Mrs. Ketterling and then leaned her head toward the window, gazing out. She found each breath difficult to take as they made their way through Lambton, down the dirt road. It veered to the right, taking her in a southerly direction, each turn taking her farther away from Pemberley.
Her eyes turned upward to the sky as the sun climbed higher. She closed her eyes and wondered whether Mr. Darcy had taken his customary walk up the ridge to watch the sunrise. Had he waited to see the carriage off this morning? Was he grateful she was finally out of his life? A tear escaped through her closed lids as she reasoned that he certainly had to be.
The two ladies rode in silence for the first part of the trip. Elizabeth was grateful that Anna seemed to respect her wish for quiet and rest. The young girl likely assumed she was sleeping, as she kept her face away from her, her eyes closed except for those few times she opened them to see the scenery through which they passed. When she finally felt equal to it, she turned to Anna, stretching out her arms as if just awakening.
Anna smiled at her. “I hope you were able to get some sleep. I know it was an early departure.”
“Fortunately, I am an early riser,” Elizabeth reassured her. “I did not sleep well last night, however, so it has been good to get a little more rest.”
Anna nodded and then leaned forward, pulling up a large parcel. “If you are at all hungry, I have some things the kitchen sent along for us.”
“Thank you, but I have no need of anything right now.”
The girl continued to look in the parcel and pulled something out. “Mr. Darcy thought you might enjoy some reading material.” She held two books in her hand and extended them to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth’s eyes widened as she recognized the book of Cowper’s poems that she had spent a good amount of time reading while at Pemberley. If he had not been aware of that, he may have recollected her mentioning the fondness she had for Cowper from their conversation at the top of the ridge. The other book was a compilation of short stories.
“I shall enjoy these very much,” she told Anna. She looked down at the books, her fingers stroking the supple leather of the covers. She then lifted her eyes to Anna. “Do you enjoy reading?”
“I do not have the time to read much.” She let out a nervous giggle. “Although I must confess that I often crawl into bed with a gothic novel.” Her shoulders shivered. “Sometimes I become so dreadfully frightened by those stories that I find it impossible to sleep.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I have read my share of them.
Anna chuckled. “Hearing footsteps approaching down the hall is my greatest fear. I always imagine it is someone who has evil intent.”
Elizabeth’s hand remained resting on the books. “How long have you worked at Pemberley?” she asked.
The young lady smiled. “How long have I not? My grandmother was the late Mrs. Darcy’s personal maid. When my mother was young, she shadowed Mrs. Reynolds and recently became the housekeeper in the Darcys’
