Page 37 of The Difference of a Darcy
The door opened again, letting in a blast of cold air—and Darcy, his arms full of wood.
He set the logs by the hearth and turned toward her. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
At that exact moment, her stomach gave a loud, unmistakable growl.
Her face flushed crimson.
Darcy blinked, then gave a wry smile. “Ah,” he said gently. “I believe I have my answer.”
She tugged the blanket up a bit more and gave him a sheepish glance. “Food is not the only necessity at present,” she said in a near-whisper. “There is… also the matter of a chamber pot.”
His eyes widened slightly, then darted to the far corner of the room where a dusty bucket sat beside a coil of rope and a rusted lantern. “I can step outside,” he said quickly, already reaching for the door.
“Thank you,” she murmured, mortified.
He left her alone, and she made quick use of the bucket and donned her clothes from the day before. When she was finished, she wrapped herself again in the blanket and carried the makeshift chamber pot outside, where Darcy was pacing the edge of the clearing.
“Iwill clean it,” she said at once, before he could offer.
“You should not—”
“Please allow me to maintain some dignity,” she said firmly.
He bowed slightly and looked away.
Elizabeth scrubbed it out with handfuls of snow, then placed it discreetly near the edge of the lodge.
When she returned, the fire had been stoked again. Darcy stood near the hearth, arms folded.
“We cannot remain here,” he said without preamble.
“I agree,” she replied, brushing her hands dry on her skirts. “We will freeze—or starve. Besides, there is nothing to be learned here.”
He nodded. “Where do you suggest we go?”
She sat on the edge of the cot. “I believe we must begin with Longbourn.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“Surely your absence from Netherfield, along with my having married Mr. Collins, means that your friend must have offered for my sister. At least, I hope that is what happened.”
“And if it is not?”
“Then at least we may learn something more of this world. If my family is there… if they remember me.” She paused. “You will likely wish to go to London. To check on your sister.”
His face darkened slightly. “Yes, although she may be at Pemberley if… if she is married.”
“We will need funds,” she said. “Do you have any with you?”
Darcy reached into the inner pocket of his coat and withdrew a coin purse. “Fortunately, yes. And I always carry a sovereign sewn into my coat lining.”
Elizabeth gave a small smile. “Then we may avoid starvation. I have some, as well—about three pounds tucked into the hem of my dress, and some coin in my sewing roll.”
Together, they retrieved their coins and counted: fifteen pounds in Darcy’s purse, and just over fourteen shillings between the two of them hidden in various folds and linings. Enough, perhaps, for food, for travel—for something.
“I admit,” Darcy said ruefully, “I have no notion what things cost individually. Purchases are made for the household in bulk.”
“A loaf of bread and a pound of cheese may cost a shilling or so,” she said. “If we are careful, we can make that food last a day or even two.”
