Five minutes later, they were still waiting.
“I cannot fathom where our servants have gone,” Elizabeth said as Darcy fastened the back of her gown. “And why has no one else answered the bell?”
Darcy could not spare a moment to formulate a guess. He had missed a button and had to fasten her gown all over again. “Captain Tilney will be enjoying dessert before I finish these buttons,” he said.
“It seems rather inconsiderate of him to make us rush so.”
“As a military man, he no doubt values punctuality.”
“As a host, he ought to value the comfort of his guests.”
She winced as she caught sight of her hair in the looking glass. The damp weather had set each lock conspiring against the others. She left the mirror and pillaged her trunk.
“I cannot find my hairbrush.”
“Is there not one on the dressing table?”
She glanced at its surface. “No. Perhaps in one of the drawers.” She opened the dressing table drawers in rapid succession, but the search proved unsuccessful. Darcy, meanwhile, approached the looking glass and struggled to tie his neckcloth in record time.
A large, old-fashioned cabinet of ebony and gold stood in a nearby recess. “Should I try that cabinet?”
“Unless you have decided to accept the present state of your hair as satisfactory after all.”
“I cannot meet our host like this. He will mistake me for one of the hedges.”
She crossed to the cabinet. A key extended from the lock; she turned it and unfolded the doors to reveal a wall of small drawers. These she slid open one by one. “Empty. . empty. . handkerchiefs. . gloves. . empty. . stockings. . more handkerchiefs. . oh, my!”
He glanced at her reflection in the looking glass. Her countenance held astonishment. “Have you discovered the crown jewels?”
“No. Only a hoard of diamonds.”
“Is that all?” He made a final adjustment to his cravat.
“Darcy, I am quite serious.”
He brought the lamp over and looked into the drawer himself. A diamond necklace, bracelet, and pair of eardrops glittered back at him. The set appeared very costly — hardly the sort of thing he would leave in such an unsecured location for years. “The family must have forgotten about these.”
They closed the drawer. The next contained a superior treasure — a comb. Elizabeth seized it and hurried to the dressing table.
_________
Somehow, they managed to achieve full dress by the time the housekeeper reappeared. Elizabeth enquired into the whereabouts of their maid and valet, and received a blank look in response.
“They are your servants — I am not responsible for supervising them.”
“Nor did anyone answer the bell.”
“It must have gone unheard in the bustle of dinner preparations.”
Though she found these replies less than satisfactory, Elizabeth let the matter drop as they hastened to join Captain Tilney on time. She did, however, note the displeasure in Darcy’s face as the housekeeper sprinted down the corridor expecting rather than inviting them to follow.
“Do you suppose all guests at Northanger are treated so attentively?” she said under her breath.
“If so, it is little wonder that our host seeks new acquaintances,” he replied. “No one ever returns.”
Despite the speed at which their guide led them, the housekeeper walked gracefully and carried herself with as much dignity as one would expect in a servant of her status. She conducted them back through the great gallery, past portraits of long-dead ancestors and paintings of the abbey’s various incarnations.
“How long have the Tilney family lived at Northanger Abbey?” Elizabeth asked.
They reached the central staircase before she finally answered. “A long time.”
Contrary to Elizabeth’s expectation, they did not meet their host in the drawing room and proceed to the dinner table; rather, the housekeeper escorted them straight to the dining parlor. It was a spacious room, richly appointed, with an enormous chandelier overhead and a long table set for three. The chandelier was unlit, forcing the entire burden of illuminating the vast chamber on two candelabra standing at attention on the table and an indifferent blaze in the massive marble hearth. These lights made a noble effort at dispelling the shadows that cloaked the room’s perimeter, but proved inadequate to the task.
One place setting rested at the head of the table, with the other two across from each other about a third of the way down. The housekeeper directed them to the latter, informed them that her master would arrive momentarily, and departed.
They took their seats. Though Pemberley boasted a grand dining parlor and Elizabeth had enjoyed the hospitality of others similar in scale, she felt dwarfed by the proportions of the room.
“Perhaps it is the absence of our host,” Darcy suggested in response to her observation.
“Or of proper lighting. I can scarcely see my silverware.”
Lightning flashed. Elizabeth jumped at the sudden sight of the housekeeper behind Darcy. She had not noticed the servant reenter the room.
“Captain Tilney sends his most sincere apologies. He feels indisposed at present and must settle for a tray in his chamber. He urges you, however, to enjoy the meal after your long journey. He will meet you afterward in the drawing room.”
“If the captain suffers indisposition, perhaps he would prefer to receive us in the morning,” Darcy offered.
“No — he is quite decided upon meeting you tonight.”
“I hope his complaint is of a minor nature,” Elizabeth said. “Is the captain an older gentleman?”
“Not at all. He is of middle years, and still quite fine to look upon.”
“Has he a wife?”
“No,” she said sharply.
She brought in the first course — some sort of soup Elizabeth could not quite identify, though Darcy almost became far too personally acquainted with it when the housekeeper’s inattentive serving threatened to pour it into his lap. They were soon left alone again, with only the sounds of the storm for company. Rain pelted the windows, and cracks of thunder punctuated their conversation.
Darcy met Elizabeth’s gaze in the flickering candlelight. “And you thought a visit with Captain Tilney sounded intriguing before we left Bath.”
“This is certainly one of the more interesting places to which you have brought me since our marriage.”
“More interesting than Mr. Dashwood’s town house?”
She smiled. “Mr. Dashwood’s residence had only an antique looking glass to lend it character. Here we have already encountered a housekeeper who cannot keep house but who can materialize out of nowhere, been installed in an apartment last used decades ago by the home’s dead mistress, and played hide-and-seek with a mysterious host who never appears. All this, and we have not yet been within these walls a full hour. Even Mr. Dashwood’s town house cannot compete with the allure of Northanger Abbey. Indeed, I think only the castle of Udolpho holds more charm.”