Page 36 of Pemberley's Imposter
“That must have been later. You were in the tomb with me, but I did not know Ellie was there as well.”
“You must explain, please, I do not understand.”
“Richard duped me into going with him to the mausoleum, knocked me out, and locked me in my own crypt. I suppose he must have managed to haul us into a carriage or a wagon and drove us here. How, I do not know. Neither do I know where we are because I have never set foot in this cottage before,” Mr Darcy explained in a firm voice.
“I am grateful you have finally realised your cousin’s perfidy. I expected you to explain it away with a far-fetchedexcuse,” Elizabeth accused with a bitterness accumulated over two and a half years of struggle.
“I am not perfect!” Mr Darcy bellowed.
“Lower your voice,” Elizabeth reminded him, forgetting she had shouted her daughter’s name at the top of her lungs. “I heard a carriage leaving, but I cannot be certain there are no guards left outside the door. We should try to keep as quiet as possible until we have untied ourselves and thoroughly explored whether anyone else is about. I cannot stomach any more of that vile, sickening rum he keeps pressing against my nose.”
“It is not rum,” Mr Darcy grumbled.
“What is it, then?”
“Ether. A drug used in higher society in London for recreational purposes rather than medicinal,” Mr Darcy explained, prompting new suspicions.
“How do you know? Have you used it?”
“Of course not, but Richard swore by it after he came home injured from the Peninsular War.”
“I wonder why he had us drugged, bound, and left to die in this godforsaken place. Could it have anything to do with a pile of limestone in Derbyshire?” Elizabeth asked with bitterness lacing her voice. “It must have been such a disappointment to him that I returned when he had so cunningly rid himself of me. Having the audacity to bring an heiress with me to his beloved estate must have further induced him.”
“It is not his estate,” Mr Darcy growled.
“It soon will be if you do not untie my hands. Oh, let me try!” Elizabeth demanded impatiently.
“I am of a mind to keep you tied up.”
“How gentlemanly of you, Mr Darcy. My first impression of you was astoundingly correct. Pleasant towards your equals while behaving appallingly towards those you deem beneath you.”
“What did you expect of me?” Mr Darcy roared, his fingers stilled on her knots.
Elizabeth used the opportunity to have another go at Mr Darcy’s ties; the knots had tightened while he tried to undo her wrists. She suspected his large hands were not helpful; she would have an advantage with her slimmer fingers and long nails.
“Hush, you big baboon!” Elizabeth continued in a fervent whisper. “I expected you to hear my side of the story before you tossed me out of your house.”
“What was there to discuss? You simply must have known it was not me. You cannot have failed to notice the difference in our heights.”
“I could neither see nor feel the height of the person standing behind me. I was as stiff as a board because I feared a servant might happen upon us. They thought little enough of the unknown interloper as it was. I felt no need to lower their opinion of me any further by engaging in private matters outside our chambers.”
“Considering your timidity during the first days of our marriage—you were reluctant even to remove your clothes when we were intimate—it is not strange I began questioning whether I had been deceived by your professed admiration.”
“I wonder whether you were comfortable, stripping off all your clothes and strutting about the room on your first amorous encounter? It did not escape my notice that, in contrast to myself, you were not such a neophyte. But I suppose agentleman without fault does not suffer from diffidence. You must pardon my silly lack of confidence, but I had not even appeared unclothed in front of anyone in my family since I was perhaps five or six years old. It is not easy to be the sister of the most beautiful lady in all of England and to be constantly compared to the embodiment of female grace—Jane, being tall and slim while I am not.”
Mr Darcy turned to look at her. Elizabeth lowered her head whilst heat bloomed in her cheeks by the honest admission. She had never before mentioned her feelings of inadequacy to another living soul, and to admit it to Mr Darcy left her feeling vulnerable. She dared not even meet his eyes.
“No one is perfect, Mrs Darcy. Not me, not anyone I have ever encountered. It is exhausting to try to live up to your standards. I am flawed, prideful, conceited, and I do not care about the feelings of people unconnected to me. If I were to carry the burden of every pitiful soul’s misery, I would break under the weight of it, but I wanted to be that man for you. I am not though—I can never be that man.”
“I did not expect you to be flawless, Mr Darcy. When I called you disdainful of the feelings of others, I was implying that you hurtmyfeelings. When I called you prideful and conceited, it was because you pronouncedmebeneath you.”
The room quieted; they had both had enough of arguing, and the rope around Darcy’s wrists was finally loose enough to release his hands. He reciprocated the service she had rendered him. Freed, they both crawled towards the cot with the mouldy throw as two souls of one mind.
Clutching to a slight hope of finding Ellie, Elizabeth wrenched off the blanket concealing their motionless daughter.
Elizabeth—believing she was already too late—lifted her daughter and cradled her to her chest, letting two fat tears escape from her eyes, when Ellie began to retch. Another two droplets escaped in relief, and the mother and father’s eyes met, exchanging wordless communication.
“We need to find clean water as I have drunk every last drop in my water pouch, and something to eat as I took nothing edible with me.” Mr Darcy’s practical side, the side that drove him into action, reappeared with full force. He quickly untied Elizabeth’s legs before he freed his own while she was busy comforting their crying child.
