“Captain Tilney,” she said, “did your mother preserve any correspondence herself? Might there be letters from Lady Anne here at Northanger?”
“Dash it, no. Nothing the old general kept for anybody to find, anyway. Did you ever meet him? Superior billiards player, though I could always best him. By Jove, once when I met him at — oh, but we were speaking of his wife, were we not? Well, one never knows when an old letter might be found. Or what interesting details it might contain about something everybody forgot about ages ago. Only think — a simple note that was nothing but tittle-tattle between friends could reveal some secret nobody else knew. Jolly intriguing things, old letters! I swear, I shall begin saving mine as of this moment just to entertain my heirs after I pop off.”
Darcy’s expression grew still more shuttered. Elizabeth wondered whether the captain’s comment had inadvertently brought to his mind Lady Anne’s final letter. Her husband had not found it entertaining in the least. It had revealed an extent of suffering on his mother’s part that he would just as soon have never known about so vividly.
“A letter can communicate more than its author intended,” Darcy said. “Particularly to those who were never meant to read it.”
“My point precisely!” Captain Tilney drained his wineglass and set it down with so much force that Elizabeth briefly feared for its welfare. “Revelations just waiting to be uncovered!”
“To what purpose?” Darcy shook his head. “Some things are best left buried in the past.”
“Some things should never have become buried in the first place, and ought to be brought to light.”
A flash of lightning cast the room in sudden brilliance. The shadow eclipsing Captain Tilney’s face momentarily receded, exposing the zeal that brightened his lone blue eye. An enormous boom followed. Rain pelted the windows with renewed fury.
The Eye now shifted back to Elizabeth. “What do you think, Mrs. Darcy? If you stumbled across some intriguing hint of forgotten treasure, would you search for it?”
Despite the casual character of his speech, Captain Tilney’s statements held an undercurrent Elizabeth could not define, as if he and they were not quite participating in the same conversation.
“If I thought it could — and ought to — be found,” she replied warily.
Darcy’s jaw had acquired the rigid set she had come to recognize as a sure sign of his displeasure. “Forgive me, Captain,” he said, “but my wife and I have endured a long day of travel, and I can see that she is weary. Would you take it amiss if we retired for the evening?”
The sudden request brought a look of surprise to their host’s face — or, at least, to the Eye — but he recovered himself quickly.
“So soon? But you have not yet — that is, we were just becoming acquainted. Surely you will stay long enough to share another glass of port, at least? Mrs. Darcy may withdraw if she chooses.”
Darcy stood. “Unfortunately, I must decline. Our journey fatigued me also.”
“Well. . if you must,” he replied rather petulantly. There was something off-putting about their host. Although Elizabeth pitied the man for his injuries, she did not find him a pleasant individual. “I shall summon Dorothy to escort you.”
He rose, but turned in the direction opposite the bell. He paused and glanced round the walls until he located it.
Elizabeth eyed his wineglass and wondered whether the port or his recent accident accounted for his absentmindedness. “Do let me ring it for you.”
The housekeeper appeared almost before Elizabeth’s hand released the pull. She seemed disconcerted to find the three of them standing, and looked at her employer as if demanding an explanation.
“The Darcys would like to retire to their apartment now,” the captain said.
“Already? Have you finished your conversation?”
“We shall continue tomorrow.”
Dorothy pursed her lips in the same sort of pout Captain Tilney had displayed earlier. “After I see the Darcys to their chamber, I shall return directly.”
The housekeeper was silent as she conducted them through the corridors and galleries. They reached their chamber, which remained free of any hint that they had even brought their personal attendants to Northanger. At least someone had started a fire while they were at dinner, so the room had warmed.
“Our servants?” Darcy enquired again.
“They will turn up sooner or later. Ring the bell if you require anything.”
Elizabeth harbored little hope of anyone in the house actually addressing a need of theirs, especially as the housekeeper immediately left them to themselves without another word. She stared at the door through which Dorothy had so speedily departed. “Just when one thinks this place cannot get any stranger—”
“We meet our host?” Darcy finished.
She turned. “Him, too.” She shook her head in bewilderment at the whole evening. “One hesitates to criticize a man who has suffered such extensive injuries. But he is not at all what I expected a captain to be.”
“Nor I.” He removed his coat and tugged at his cravat.
“For a man of his years and occupation, I thought he would possess a graver manner — particularly after having suffered such serious injury. His speech and appearance formed an odd pairing. I suspect we were more afflicted by his accident than he was. Every time he turned his eye upon me, I felt a bit off balance. I was thankful when you begged leave to retire.”
“I believed we had both answered enough of his questions for the present.”
She went to her open trunk to retrieve her nightdress. “He certainly posed a great many of them, though I think most were to be expected. Your mother is the reason he invited us here, after all. Of course he would want to know more about her.” She frowned. “I thought I had seen my nightdress toward the top of this trunk when we were dashing around here earlier.”
“I saw it there, too.” He draped his coat over the back of a chair and neatly folded the neckcloth.
She continued rummaging through half-folded stacks of clothing. She had not realized she’d made such a mess of her maid’s packing in her haste to dress for dinner. “The captain is quite an enigma. I wonder what he looks like without the bandages. Oh — here is the nightdress, under my blue sarsenet. I thought that gown was in the other trunk.” She held the nightdress by its shoulders and shook it open. “It was a little unsettling, was it not, that the captain should talk about never knowing when a letter might turn up, and about letters inspiring people to search for forgotten things, when we so recently found that letter of your mother’s urging us to do just that?”
“That is a matter Captain Tilney need never learn anything about.”
“Agreed.”
He regarded her current gown with dismay. “I suppose you require assistance with those buttons again.”
“Do not complain. They are easier to open than close.”
He indulged in a wicked grin. “I know.”
She laughed, pleased by the display of Darcy’s less serious side. It had been little evident since their discovery of Lady Anne’s letter, and she welcomed its return. Perhaps engaging Dr. Severn had helped improve her husband’s humor by easing his anxiety. If so, she considered the change worth tolerating the physician’s haughtiness.
“Shame on you, Mr. Darcy. We are in an abbey.”
“A former abbey.”
She came to him and offered him her back so that he could start on the buttons.
“All right, a former abbey,” she said. “And one straight out of a horrid novel, I might add. The house is gloomy and dark, and we are not allowed to move about it freely. There seems to be a decided lack of servants — including our own. And for all we know, our host could be a phantom under those layers of bandages.”
“I doubt a phantom would swear upon his soul quite so often.”
Just as she finished changing into her nightdress, a thunderclap rent the air. It was another sound, however, that caused her to jump. “Did you hear that?”
“I expect everyone within twenty miles heard it.”
“Not the thunder — over there.” She pointed at the wall with the tapestry. She thought she had heard a thump from that quarter following the boom.