‘I’ll get you one right away.’

Annie left the room, and when the door opened again, Elizabeth turned towards it with thanks on her lips. But it was not Annie who stood in the doorway; it was Darcy.

‘I heard you sneezing,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have left you in the lake for so long.’

‘It wasn’t your fault,’ said Elizabeth. ‘I knew Lady Catherine didn’t approve of our marriage, but I never thought she would pursue us on our wedding tour. Why did she do it? And why did she say all those terrible things?’

‘Lady Catherine is old,’ he said by way of explanation.

‘Not so old that she doesn’t know how to behave, and not so old that age excuses her for behaving in such a manner,’ said Elizabeth.

‘Things are not so simple,’ he said.

‘They seem simple to me,’ she said.

He looked at her with a wistful smile.

‘You’re very young,’ he said.

‘I am only seven years younger than you.’

His eyes held hers for long moments, then he said, ‘You break my heart.’

He sounded so sad that Elizabeth felt a catch in her throat and she reached out her hand to him, but he had already turned away, and a moment later, he was out in the corridor, issuing instructions to his valet.

Elizabeth felt low in spirits. Lady Catherine’s tirade had unsettled her and Darcy’s strange demeanour had unsettled her even more, so that she longed for someone to talk to. A cheerful conversation about ordinary things was just what she needed to dispel her gloom. She thought at once of Mrs Cedarbrook, knowing that a few minutes talking about Mr Cedarbrook and his botany would soon put a smile on her face. She wrote a short note requesting Mrs Cedarbrook’s company, and when Annie returned with her drink, Elizabeth asked her to take it.

‘I’m sorry, Ma’am, but they’ve left,’ said Annie. ‘They were off an hour since. Mr Cedarbrook wanted to get on with his plant collecting.’

Elizabeth was disappointed but there was nothing to be done about it, so she finished her drink and then started a letter to Jane.

My dearest Jane,

I wish you were here. How I long to talk to you. So much has happened that I scarcely know where to begin. We left Paris a few days ago and we are now in the Alps. Things are changing so rapidly that my head is starting to spin. First Dover, then the sea crossing, then Paris, and now the mountains—my dearest Jane, I woke up this morning and wondered where I was. But then I saw Darcy from the window, swimming in the lake, and things began to change. I went to join him and for the first time, married life started to be what I thought it would be. We were close, body, mind, and spirit, and I longed for him as he longed for me. Everything else was forgotten, until the moment was broken by Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Can you believe it? She followed us here.

Are you plagued by Bingley’s relatives? Do they pursue you?

I am beginning to think we will never be free of Darcy’s family. Perhaps Lady Catherine was right. Perhaps their attitude does matter to me after all.

But no! What am I saying? How can it matter when I have Darcy? For a few short minutes in the lake we were so close, and if it happened once it can happen again. To be sure, he has retreated again, withdrawing into a cold world and gone where I cannot follow, and yet it cannot be for long. He wants me, I know he does, it is only his family and his concerns, perhaps, for my feelings—or what he thinks my feelings must be when everything is so new to me—that keep him aloof.

Writing to you is doing me good. I was despondent at the start of the letter but now things are wearing a rosier aspect. We are going further into the mountains to visit Darcy’s uncle, and there, perhaps, we may grow close again. Darcy respects his uncle and wants to seek his advice, about what I am not quite sure. I only hope it sets his mind at rest and leaves him free to follow his heart which I know, Jane, leads to me.

I must go now, but I will write to you again when we reach the castle. For the moment, adieu.

She sanded the letter then put it away in her writing desk to be finished later.

Annie, in the meantime, had been packing her things.

‘Master’s orders are that we’ll be moving on as soon as we’re ready,’ she said.

‘Yes,’ said Elizabeth. ‘He wants us to reach the castle before dark.’

She dressed in warmer clothes than previously, for she was still cold. She chose a dress with long sleeves and she wore a long pelisse instead of her shorter coat. She dismissed a bonnet which perched on her head and instead chose one that covered her ears. She tied the ribbon under her chin and then she was ready.

Darcy was waiting for her downstairs. The coach was already at the door and she could tell that he was impatient to leave.

Their hosts wished them God speed and then they were off.

Elizabeth was glad to be leaving the inn behind. She could tell that Darcy was on edge and she only hoped that things would improve once they reached the castle.

Chapter 5

At the start of their journey Elizabeth was content to look out of the window, where the smiling landscape was bathed in the warm glow of early morning, but by the time midday approached, it was replaced by a wilder view. The mountainside was becoming more craggy and they passed a number of waterfalls which dazzled with their spectacle, their waters flowing down in torrents and throwing clouds of rainbow spume into the air. Alpine plants flourished, clinging to the rocks, and chasms yawned beside the road.

As Elizabeth watched the scenery, Darcy watched her. He had seen the impressive sights many times before, but to Elizabeth they were all fresh and new. As he watched her ever-changing expressions, it revitalised his enjoyment of the scene and reawakened his lost sense of wonder.

There were very few people on the road, but here and there they saw a man carrying a pannier of logs on his back or a woman leading a donkey or occasionally a small child with a basketful of berries.

‘The people hereabouts seem very religious,’ said Elizabeth, as a man moved to the side of the road to avoid the coach and crossed himself; a common custom, it seemed.

‘Things are very different here,’ Darcy agreed. ‘The people have their own traditions and their own way of doing things.’

Elizabeth, growing tired of mountains and glaciers and waterfalls, let her eyes linger on the women’s rustic garb, admiring the colourful skirts with white aprons and their curious cloth head coverings.

‘Will your uncle mind us calling on him without any warning, do you think?’ she asked, as they found themselves on a lonely stretch of road once more. ‘Or have you written to him and told him we are coming?’

‘No,’ said Darcy. ‘There is no post in these outlying parts and a messenger travelling alone would be subject to attack. But my uncle won’t mind. He is always pleased to see me and the castle is so large that he can always accommodate more guests.’

‘Even with our large retinue?’

‘The castle will swallow the retinue,’ he said. ‘It could swallow ten such retinues. It is very old and very rambling, and it is large enough to house an entire village if the need arises.’

‘And does it arise?’ asked Elizabeth curiously.

‘It certainly has in the past. When the village was attacked by bandits, then everyone would crowd inside the castle, taking their livestock and possessions with them, and they would not come out until the danger had passed.’

‘What is he like, your uncle?’ she asked.

‘He is a learned man. Intelligent. Charming,’ Darcy said. ‘He is a great thinker and something of a philosopher. He has travelled widely and knows many things. He is amusing and lively on occasion, but more often he sits and listens, or draws out his companions with interesting questions and remarks. He has a fund of wisdom at his disposal but he never seeks to dictate. I think you will like him.’

But will he like me? Elizabeth wondered.

At home, such a thought would not have occurred to her but here it was different. She had no friends or family close by to fill her with confidence and no well-loved places to reassure her. To begin with, that had not mattered, but as she moved further and further away from her own world, she found that she was becoming less sure of herself, and she hoped that her welcome would be a warm one or, at least, not a cold one.

The road began to climb more steeply, and the coach slowed until it was almost at a halt. Elizabeth suggested they get out and walk in order to help the horses, but Darcy would not hear of it.

‘The horses are well conditioned. They have pulled heavier loads up steeper slopes than this,’ he said.

‘But there is no need for them to do so here. It will not hurt us to walk. Besides, I would like to take some exercise and feel the wind in my face,’ she protested.

‘At another time I would be happy to indulge you,’ he replied, placing a restraining hand on hers as she moved to open the door, ‘but we are not in England now.’

She was about to ask him what he meant when she glanced out of the window and saw that two red orbs, which she had taken for berries, suddenly blinked and moved, and she realised with a shock that they were eyes. She looked to right and left and saw that there were more eyes all round them.

‘Are there wolves here?’ she asked apprehensively.

‘Wolves—and worse,’ he added under his breath.

She sat back in her seat, chastened. Wolves, bears perhaps… She was a long way from Hertfordshire. She was glad of the coach and the safety it offered. It was sturdily built and would withstand an attack by wolves or any other animals which might be lurking close by. She was glad too of the outriders and the pistols they carried—a warning to predators with two legs and a protection against those with four.