“Are you not going to examine the tapestry?”
“I thought my investigative responsibility was limited to black veils.”
“A tapestry is close enough.”
He crossed the room. The large silk-and-wool tapestry depicted the Annunciation, and appeared old enough that it might have hung at Northanger in the days when the building had indeed been an abbey. Though the centuries had dulled most of the colors, the heavenly light radiating from the virgin and the archangel stood out brightly.
Darcy caught the edge of the tapestry and pulled it to one side. To their surprise, the fabric parted down the center, revealing a door in the wall behind it. The door’s paneling matched that of the rest of the room, so that when closed — as it now was — it blended into the wall unnoticed. Such doors existed in homes throughout England; Pemberley had dozens.
“It is an ordinary servants’ door, nothing more.” He opened it to reveal a small, dark landing and narrow stair. “The thunder must have rattled it. You have nothing to fear but your own imagination.” He closed the door and allowed the tapestry to fall back into place. When it hung properly, the center division was indiscernible.
She let out a long breath and realized she had been more alarmed than she thought. The atmosphere of Northanger Abbey was starting to play havoc with her nerves. She longed to be home, in the comfort of Pemberley, away from strange houses, strange servants, and strange captains.
“Darcy, despite our having discovered a servant’s door rather than a skeleton, I must confess that I have not felt entirely comfortable at Northanger Abbey since the moment we entered it. There is something not quite right here.”
“Nothing a competent domestic staff could not address. Though having now met Captain Tilney, I believe the master himself partially responsible for the lax standards. I suspect he fails to set the proper tone.”
“Nevertheless, I cannot imagine enduring a full se’nnight of this.”
“A premature departure would insult our host.”
“Despite his assurances to the contrary, our presence is an imposition while he recovers.”
“Even so, we cannot simply leave.”
“Yes, we can. We can quit Northanger tomorrow morning — our trunks are even packed. Please, Darcy. We have been gone from Pemberley many weeks. I just want to go home.” Away from Captain Tilney, away from Lady Catherine, away from Wickham and Lydia and all the other vexations that had comprised their trip.
Darcy studied her face a long time before replying. She knew that her request asked him to ignore his sense of propriety, to place her wishes above his natural inclination.
“Very well,” he said finally. “In truth, now that we have met Captain Tilney, I am not certain I want to cultivate his acquaintance to a high degree. Nonetheless, we must take care to avoid giving offense.”
She thanked him with an embrace. “We shall invent a plausible excuse.”
Outside, the wind moaned its protest and rain furiously assaulted the windows. Though morning offered the promise of returning home, it would be a long night.
“I suppose,” he said, stepping out of her arms, “an early departure reduces the likelihood of our finding a black veil requiring my examination.” He drew closed a set of curtains to shut out the storm.
“Not necessarily. This room holds numerous draperies, two tablecloths, and a canopy to occupy you before we leave.”
“Those also fall under my province?”
“Your sphere includes all hanging fabric.”
“All?” His eyes dropped to the hem of her nightdress. He released an exaggerated sigh and met her gaze. “With that much responsibility, I could be up half the night investigating.”
Against staying longer, however, Elizabeth was positively resolved.
— Pride and Prejudice
Morning saw no end to the gloom that engulfed Northanger. Dawn could scarcely be said to have broken, so dark did the sky remain. The rain continued, less violent but steady, and one could not determine where the mist ended and the clouds began. An equally melancholy atmosphere pervaded the house.
Darcy and Elizabeth helped each other dress. Their personal servants were still nowhere to be found, and further enquiries to Dorothy regarding their whereabouts produced only more paltering. After dining alone in the breakfast parlor, they returned to the drawing room for another audience with the captain.
He sat in the same chair, his white bandages a stark contrast to the purple velvet. “Well, now, this is a dreary start to the day, is it not? Thought surely the storm would blow itself out after keeping me awake half the night, but the rain simply will not quit. I believe it continues solely to vex us. Oh, well — I suppose it saves you the obligation of asking for a tour of Northanger Park this morning, and me the trouble of showing it to you. We instead can remain indoors and talk more of your mother and Mrs. Tilney.”
Darcy had little desire to reopen that conversation. He conveyed to their host that, to their deep regret, they would have to cut their visit short. “Business calls us home.”
“No, no — I will not hear of it! Your business cannot be of great consequence. You must remain at least another day or two.”
“I am afraid we cannot tarry.”
“But this weather has made the roads unfit for travel. I would not take my carriage out upon them for anything! It will pour all day — see if it does not!”
Though Darcy himself harbored concerns about the condition of the roads, he held fast to his resolve. His own wish to leave had begun to match Elizabeth’s, and increased with every hour. “Further, we would not intrude on your privacy whilst you recover from your accident—”
“Upon my soul, your presence is no imposition. On the contrary, it boosts my spirits! Would you abandon an injured man to recuperate in isolation, with none but servants for company?”
The thought of leaving the captain to the haphazard care of Dorothy indeed inspired sympathy on Darcy’s part, but not a reversal. He again offered their apologies.
Captain Tilney became ill-tempered. “I can only interpret your insistence upon leaving to a rejection of my overtures of friendship. Is this how my hospitality is repaid? You discredit your mother’s memory, Mr. Darcy, by inflicting such insult upon the family of her dear friend. Indeed you do! I would not behave so unkindly toward you for all the world.”
“You are too hard on my husband,” Elizabeth interjected. “Please do not blame him. Before coming here, I learned of a matter requiring my attention back at Pemberley. After our conversation last evening, I was kept awake by the storm and spent the night in contemplation. I awoke with the conviction that the matter ought not be deferred. In departing this morning, he indulges me.”
“Indeed? Our conversation last night inspired this decision?” The captain studied her with his good eye. “Then go, Mrs. Darcy, and take care of your business. The devil take me, I would not cause a lady delay in attending to affairs urgent to her.”
So released, Darcy wished to effect their exit without further delay. The horses were ordered. A final stop in their chamber discovered their missing servants, returned and repacking the disorganized trunks.
“Lucy!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Wherever have you been?”
“It was the strangest thing, ma’am. When we first arrived, the housekeeper told me I was not needed in your apartment right away. I knew you were in haste to prepare for dinner, but — well, it would not be the first time Mr. Darcy helped you dress instead of me. So I stayed in the servants’ hall, and the housekeeper gave me and Graham our dinner. Then she showed me where I was to sleep. I felt a little dizzy and shaky, so I sat down on the bed for just a moment. Next I knew, I woke up about half an hour ago. I am so sorry, ma’am! The damp ride yesterday must have given me a chill, I suppose. I still feel a bit shaky, but nothing of concern — I can travel.”
Graham, Darcy’s valet, reported a similar experience and offered his most humble apologies. It was the first time in twenty years of service that he had failed to perform his duties, and he felt the failure acutely.
Darcy accepted his apology and, assured of his fitness for travel, told him to not give it another minute’s thought. Darcy did, however — many minutes’ worth. He did not like the suspicion that formed in his mind upon hearing the servants’ stories, and he found himself even more thankful that Elizabeth had pressed for an early departure from Northanger. When the housekeeper escorted them back to the hall, he enquired into the servants’ accounts of their experience.
“I understand both Lucy and Graham were taken ill last night.”
“Apparently so.”
“Did no one think to check their quarters when Mrs. Darcy and I questioned their absences?”
“I thought someone had. There must have been a misunderstanding.”
A misunderstanding, indeed. As Dorothy retrieved their cloaks, handed Darcy his cane, and disappeared once more, he reflected that she seemed to lack a great deal of understanding. He immensely looked forward to returning to a home maintained by a capable housekeeper. In fact, when they reached Pemberley, he would grant Mrs. Reynolds a raise in pay.