** Same thing not a new chapter, but NEXT chapter will be new material. Hang in there. And remember, Chapter 7 is now new, if you want to read about Longbourn...***
A monstrous headache greeted Elizabeth Bennet as she opened her eyes and silently cursed the pain ripping through her head. Blinking, she began to panic as she did not recognize any of the furnishings around her, nor could she recollect even what day had dawned. She flung the covers off of her body and swung her legs over the side to escape the bed, but her wobbly knees betrayed her. Losing her balance, Elizabeth found herself on all fours to break her fall and a strange voice calling to her through her mental fog.
"Miss Bennet, Ms. Bennet! Oh please tell me you have not injured yourself." Elizabeth looked up into the concerned worry of an unfamiliar maid.
"Where am I?" Elizabeth asked hoarsely, scarcely above a whisper.
"You are at Broadmeadow, ma'am. Just south of Langholm in Scotland."
"Broadmeadow?" Elizabeth rocked herself back to kneeling, and grabbed the bottom rail of the bed to steady herself as merely sitting upright invoked too much dizziness for her tastes. "I am not familiar with a Broadmeadow. Where is Broadmeadow?"
"In Scotland, ma'am. The master, he brought you and your servant last night, but we could not rouse you. We were instructed to allow you to rest." The maid offered her hands to help Elizabeth up and back into the bed, but Elizabeth was not compliant. She accepted the maid's assistance to stand up, then willed her legs to walk her forward to take in the grand room that were her accommodations. Elizabeth heart rate continued to climb as she wracked her brain for some memory of how she came to be at this foreign estate and could find none.
"What is the name of the servant who came with me?" Elizabeth hoped her question did not appear too silly, but she could not bring herself to outright asked who owned Broadmeadow estate. Perhaps if she had some small piece of information her memory would oblige her with an indication of what had happened.
"Why, Peter, Miss. He rode with you and Mr. Darcy in the carriage from the Inn in Canonbrie." If the maid began to find her charge's behavior quite odd, she did not say so. Still, the young woman jittered and held her hands out as Elizabeth began to trust her own strength to move about.
"Mr. Darcy! Of course, of course, how could I have lost my bearings?" Elizabeth laughed hollowly as inwardly she felt enormous dread over the identity of who had saved her from whatever calamity robbed her of her memories.
Gingerly, Elizabeth became to step with her own steam to the chair by the fire. She wrapped her robe around her, thankful that the cloth was at least one source of familiarity as she continued to will herself to remember more about her current situation. Finding herself beyond distraction as the name Peter only reminded her of a servant in her aunt and uncles household, Elizabeth tried to remember as far back as she could and suddenly the journey to Gretna Green with her aunt Gardiner flooded her mind. She recalled searching inn after inn for signs of her sister Lydia to no avail but the leap to being a guest in Mr. Darcy's Scottish estate proved elusive. Meanwhile, the cheery maid chattered on and on about Mr. Darcy this and Mr. Darcy that and Elizabeth began to at least hear the details of how she came to arrive at Broadmeadow, even if she could not retrieve the information as to why.
"Forgive me, I was very tired last evening from my travels, but what was your name again?"
"My name is Fiona, Fiona Grace, if it pleases you, ma'am" The maid dipped into a perfunctory curtsy.
"Fiona. I believe I like that very much." Elizabeth offered the maid a genuine smile as so far she was her only ally in the mess of confusion. Shouts from outside her window attracted Elizabeth's notice and she rose from her chair to walk over to gaze out the pane of glass. Gently, she tucked the curtain aside so as to remove obstruction from her view and was rewarded with the most intriguing sight.
Down below, a group of men in laborers' clothing, chopped wood with great expediency. But one man dressed not in the plain cotton threads of his fellows, but a lawn shirt and breeches. No cravat or top hat or other gentlemen trappings, Fitzwilliam Darcy laughed and cajoled with the groundsman as he lifted his own axe and swung it down to split a stump most decidedly in half. Elizabeth gasped to spy the ever proper Mr. Darcy not only in a casual setting and attire, but found herself mesmerized by the alluring display of manhood so deliciously staged just below her rooms.
The maid Fiona came over to her lady's side and looked over Elizabeth's shoulder at the vista below.
"Does Mr. Darcy so very often chop his own wood?" Elizabeth tried to ask the question without conveying any censure of the gentlemen's behavior. She truly was amused and intrigued by such a different side to the man she had met in Hertfordshire and again in Kent.
"Oh no, Miss. But whenever he comes to Broadmeadow to see to the estate, I hear the lads say he is never averse to rolling up his own sleeves. I believe he chops wood with Young Hamish MacGuffin down there for the enjoyment."
Elizabeth followed the maids finger-pointing at the younger servant who cleared the wood from Mr. Darcy chopped pile and carried it over to the main wagon they were loading. A large bandage could be seen just below the groundsman's hairline and Elizabeth gasped.
"But he is injured!" she exclaimed as Fiona chuckled.
"Aye, an injury he deserves, too, if you don't mind me saying, Miss." Fiona backed away from the window and though reluctant, Elizabeth did the same. But not before spying a footmen deliver a note on a silver tray to Mr. Darcy, thus delaying any further displays of masculine strength for the moment.
"However did he hurt himself?" Elizabeth wondered as Fiona poured fresh water into the basin so that Elizabeth might clean her face and hands before dressing.
"He and young Robin nicked a bushel of apples to aggravate the Cook. But Mrs. Nolan would have none of it and her broom caught his legs as he turned around and fell backwards. The stone steps broke his fall, but he won't be playing any pranks on Mrs. Nolan for a good spell, I reckon."
Elizabeth laughed at the very idea of two young woodcutters trying to steal a bunch of apples from the kitchens and getting caught.
"Will he face punishment for his behavior?"
"Not likely, as even the Cook had a good laugh and felt the boy had punishment enough with the knock to the head."
Fiona's words reminded Elizabeth of another piece of information from the last few days and tentatively her hands lifted to just behind her left ear where she could feel the bump and abrasion. She suddenly remembered now that she had hurt her own head but still, she could not recall how. Thankfully, Fiona watched her miss and clucked her tongue in sympathy.
"Carriage accidents be a nasty business, ma'am. But don't worry, I shall do your hair in such a way to loop some curls and hide the mark."
Elizabeth mumbled her thanks as Fiona left to pull a gown for her lady.
Elizabeth wanted to return to the window and watch Mr. Darcy some more, but she dared not. She had been in a carriage accident and Mr. Darcy had rescued her. She would have to forgive the man any of his other trespasses. Especially now that Lydia was lost to the dastardly Wickham.
Feeling so utterly overwhelmed by the enormity of her ordeal, Elizabeth's spirits could not even rise when Fiona managed to select her favorite gown from her trunks. Dutifully, Elizabeth wore the red spotted frock and allowed the maid to do her hair so that she might go below stairs and address her many shortcomings directly with the gentleman woodcutter himself.
****
Okay, I am at my local Barnesandnoble today writing away on the 4,000 words I have dictated. We got more Darcy and Lizzie coming up (I misspell her name on purpose) and our hero the Colonel is going to do a little swooping in and I am going to *try* to get all the way them married today . . .
GO GO PUMPKIN SPICE LATTE! :) TEEHEE
XOXOXO
Elizabeth Ann West
*****