“You could have walked to Pemberley in the distance you have paced.”
Elizabeth’s observation stopped him short. He had not even realized he was pacing. “You know I abhor wasted time. I cannot imagine what causes this detainment.”
“Perhaps our servants have not finished packing the trunks.”
“As they were never unpacked, I do not know why that should take so long.” He caught himself starting to pace again. “I shall go see whether that is indeed the case.”
Cane still in hand, he mounted the stairs. He encountered no one on his way back to their apartment, which he found empty of both trunks and servants. He returned to the hall, where his wife informed him that the carriage was at last ready.
As they climbed inside, Elizabeth shared the explanation she had been given. “Apparently, one of our trunks became misplaced.”
“How does one misplace something as large as a trunk?” he asked.
“In this house,” she responded, “I begin to think anything possible.”
“How very little trouble it can give you to understand the motive of other people’s actions.”
— Henry Tilney, Northanger Abbey
Thunder rumbled in the distance as they left Northanger Abbey, passed through the gate, and started a slow ascent up the steep, woody hills. The mist seemed to swallow the house almost directly they left it, so they soon had nothing upon which to fix their gazes save those trees close enough to the road to stand out from the fog. The rest of the outside world was naught but a grey haze, creating the surreal sense that they had entered a realm where time and movement were suspended.
It was a protracted, arduous journey. Though the rain abated, it had fallen so hard and so long that it had littered the ground with fallen branches and piles of dead leaves, and turned the roads to muck. The horses struggled to keep a steady pace, and the carriage seemed in perpetual danger of becoming permanently stuck in the mire.
Darcy looked at the ever-darkening sky. They had set out from Northanger much later than he had intended, and what little light penetrated the murkiness would not last much longer.
“How far do you estimate we have traveled?” Elizabeth asked him.
“I thought we would have passed through Cheltenham before now. It cannot lie too far distant.” He endeavored to withhold frustration from his voice. Not even to Cheltenham, and the day already nearly gone. “We will stop for the night at the next inn.”
She put a hand to her back and stretched as much as she could in the close space. “I am just as content to avoid Cheltenham. I had enough of spas in Bath.”
Despite his vexation, her response wrested a slight smile from him. “You do not wish to sample the waters for comparison?”
“I would sooner drink hemlock.”
Just as the waning light failed, the inn presented itself. Though the ostler of the Golden Crown informed them that the next post stop would indeed bring them to Cheltenham, where all the luxuries of a spa town might be enjoyed, Darcy believed it unwise to proceed any farther. In fact, he secured lodging for two nights, to give the roads a chance to improve before they continued home.
Exhausted from the day’s journey, they retired early and awoke to bright light streaming through the windows. Apparently, the gloom that had pervaded Gloucestershire from the moment they entered it had at last relinquished its hold, and now the sun’s rays warmed and restored the landscape.
Having already committed to postponing their travel, they enjoyed an unhurried breakfast and were just discussing how to employ the day when they heard heavy footfalls on the stairs. Moments later, a loud knock sounded on their chamber door. Darcy opened it to discover a short, barrel-chested gentleman with a sword at his side. Sharp eyes peered from beneath the bushy grey eyebrows that dominated his ruddy face. Two other men, also carrying swords, accompanied him.
“Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy?”
Darcy bowed.
“I am Mr. Chase, constable of this region. An unfortunate situation has come to my attention, about which I believe you possess information. Might I have a word with you?”
“Of course.” Darcy admitted the constable and his companions. He moved one of the chairs away from the table, which still held the remains of their breakfast, and invited Mr. Chase to sit. Despite Darcy’s gesture toward other chairs, the constable’s associates remained standing. Darcy took a seat beside Elizabeth.
“I understand you reside in Derbyshire,” Mr. Chase said. “What business brings you to Gloucestershire at present?”
“My wife and I are returning home from Bath.”
“Upon which day did you depart Bath?”
“Tuesday.”
“And when did you arrive at this inn?”
“Yester eve.”
“Yesterday was Wednesday. Where did you pass Tuesday night?”
“At Northanger Abbey.”
Although of substantial girth, Mr. Chase bore himself with the air of a little man with a lot of authority. It was a trait Darcy had encountered before.
“I am familiar with Northanger. It is remotely situated — certainly off the main roads for a traveler headed from Bath to Derbyshire. What business took you there?”
“We were the guests of Captain Frederick Tilney.”
“Indeed? And what is your connection with Captain Tilney? How long have you been acquainted with him?”
Darcy disliked the tenor of Mr. Chase’s enquiries. “Might I ask to what this interrogation pertains?”
“If you don’t mind, Mr. Darcy, I shall ask the questions.”
Darcy did mind, but saw little to be gained by antagonizing the local lawman. “We met Captain Tilney in person for the first time on Tuesday, but our families have a longer association.”
“I see.” The constable reclined against the back of his chair and folded his arms across his ample belly. “So, passing through Gloucestershire, you decided to call upon him?”
“He invited us.”
“Had you ever visited Northanger Abbey before?”
“Never.”
“It is a large house, and your stay was rather brief. Where did you pass most of your time?”
“In our own chamber,” Darcy said. “We had endured a long day’s travel, due to the storm, and retired early.”
The constable nodded, his second chin spilling over the folds of his simply tied neckcloth. “And where were your quarters?”
“Upstairs, in the back of the house.”