Chapter 22 Fearless
Elizabeth kept her attention on settling Maddock comfortably between herself and her father. The decision to leave Càrn Gorm Castle and its laird had been rash and passionate. She was not at all certain it was what she would have chosen had she given the notion a lot of thought but it was done and done for the best...
For the best of whom? The thought felt unsettling. She looked down upon Maddock who sat proud as a peacock, having been allowed to come with his mother on an exciting adventure. He would not have been as pleased had he known they had no intention of returning. He was closely knit with his father, not because he was the heir but the two had similar dispositions, reserved and brooding she fondly had teased them.
A tear slid unbidden down her cheek, she turned away to conceal her misery from her son and her father. She was being nonsensical, ridiculous even... Had she not dreamt, contemplated and planned her escape on more occasions than she could count? It was finally happening and she felt wretchedly forlorn. It would surely pass as soon as she had put enough distance between herself and her adversary. The Scottish border, she surmised might be her first goal. He would surely not venture as far as to cross the English border, should he change his mind and come after her. She would be very surprised if he did not—his proclamation of love was not worth noting if he did not.
Silly thoughts, she was as stupid as her father had proclaimed her to be in her youth. She should not sit here and wish he would follow her. It would mean being haled back to Càrn Gorm faster than she could pronounce Longbourn village in Hertfordshire. She did not wish it, certainly not...
#
Mr Bennet harboured some misgivings, taking Elizabeth with him, away from the powerful laird. Not to forget taking the children with him. He held no qualms in turning back to see if they were followed. It appeared they were not as the laird stood with his head lowered, his arms folded on his chest and his feet in a wide stance as the carriage rattled out of the gate. He felt as much as he saw the eyes resting on his daughter. He watched as his arms slackened and fell from their tight position. He knew a little of how Elizabeth had come to be at Càrn Gorm but he was in no doubt of why she had been forced to stay. The emotion that burned in the laird's eyes, even an old man like himself recognised as the most fierce of the passions.
Perhaps it would be wise to make some adjustments to their journey? A visit to the Bingleys at Kimberley Heights might be in order. Rightfully predicting that the sisters would not want to separate anytime soon when reunited. Mr Bennet would be relieved of the burden of protecting Elizabeth against the fierce Highlander, a battle he would not win. After espying the house and circumstances Elizabeth was living in, he had not anticipated her acceptance to his suggestion of returning home. Quite the contrary, he had expected her to stay.
#
Elizabeth stared out of the carriage window of her father's old landau. The pass of Larrig between Cairngorm and Brae Riach was behind her, as was her husband. Standing with his head bent to the ground, his arms hanging slack by his side, defeated...
She could not avoid seeing him when the carriage turned in the courtyard before her father escorted her out through the gates of her imprisonment. With every ounce of her stubbornness, she fought the urge to turn around and look at him for one last time, she did not trust herself to such an extent. Instead, she sat tightly coiled with her shoulders up under her ears, listening for thundering hooves closing in from behind. A futile endeavour sitting in a rattling carriage.
Mr Benne lay a comforting hand on her fidgeting fingers. "We will not travel too far today, it is already afternoon."
Elizabeth nodded although she would prefer to travel non stop until she entered the courtyard of Longbourn.
#
Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief when they had crossed the river Spey on the big boat at Inverdruie. She had been certain he would come after her, stop her from escaping his tightly vowed clutches. He might still...
With Tor Alvie on the left and the plain of fir trees behind them, on they went over the weary moor of Alvie towards the loch, kirk and manse with the same name. The latter so singularly placed on a promontory stretching far out into the water.
From the Rothiemurchus side of the river to Invereshie was a lovely succession of beautiful scenery Elizabeth could not muster the wherewithal to enjoy. After a long stretch through the moor, the birchwood showed itself in its green splendour, unseen by the blank staring out the window with errant thoughts reeling in her head. A little further rose Belleville on rugged meadowland, protruding from young plantations, a hospital-looking farm should have caught her attention but did not.
In Elizabeth's state of mind, the moors were just bare heather on each side of the Spey, bare mountains on each side of the heather with a few white-walled houses here and there and a good many black turf huts that looked frightful from the outside but she knew from experience they were warm and comfortable on the inside.
No conversation had yet broken the quietude in the carriage when it entered between an untidy row of slated stone houses in Kingussie, a mile before their destination for the night.
Longbourn's driver had chosen the inn at Pitmain for Elizabeth's first night on her own, away from her husband of four years. It looked decent from the outside but the inside came as a surprise. There were no carpets on the floor, no cushions in the chairs nor curtains in the windows. Polished tables or even clean ones seemed to be unknown and all the accessories at dinner were wretched. It was a small comfort that the hotchpotch, salmon and mutton served with scanty vegetables and bad bread were edible but the wine was good and made her drowsy enough to fall asleep much sooner than she had expected.
#
Mr Bennet and his daughter made an early start the next morning. Drumochter flew by the windows, all heater, bog, granite and the stone beds of winter torrents. Unrelieved by one single beauty of scenery, the treeless lake with a shooting box beside it did not count.
After the high-hill pass to Dalwhinnie, the dreary moors of Dalnacardoch stretched out with another lone house with a miserable steading about it. It broke the monotony, surrounded by a stone-walled sheepfold with grassing beasts.
Inghinn gracefully slept through much of the trip, the rocking of the carriage lulled her to slumber in her hanging cot while Maddock sat quietly by his mother's side, studying the passing scenery. He sensed her disquiet while he had a child's exuberance for adventures into the unknown. Elizabeth jolted out of her brown studies and leafed through Maddock's favourite book; Puss in Boots with some gaudy coloured etchings he absolutely adored.
#
Her second night away from Eilein in nearly four years was to be spent at the old inn in Blair, situated at the top of a hill overlooking the park.
Elizabeth and her father were greeted by an eager innkeeper with an abundance of red hair and freckles, his coat was threadbare but he was amiable and accommodating. He had but one room available, her father was offered the chamber while Elizabeth and her children were offered to stay in the adjoining parlour. It mattered but little to Elizabeth where she slept, the inn was at least better kept and cleaner than the one in Pitmain bad been.
The parlour had a bed in the wall, shut in by panels. It smelled musty but it was only for one night. Besides, the parlour had windows where she sat down on the sill with Maddock in her lap watching the antlered herd of deer through the trunks of trees.
Dinner was particularly tasteful, they were served a pudding that would do no discredit to a French cook although he might not have doused the regular soufflé with quite as much whiskey.
The children had been put to sleep. To revive herself after the delicious meal, Elizabeth walked to a viewpoint whence she could look down upon the ruins of a Castle. It was an ugly building now but had probably looked grander before the battlement was levelled by the order of the government after the rebellion. She had not the conscience to stay for long as her father was minding her children, a chore she doubted he had executed much in his life.
Sleep did not come as easily to her on this night, despite feeling weary to the bone. Images of the laird of Eilein floated through her mind no matter how much she fought her treacherous thoughts, they would not obey her and disappear into the summer night. Guilt nagged her constantly. Had she done right by her children? Ripping them from a comfortable home and a doting father? She had to give him that he was an excellent father who took pains to interact even from the earliest age with his offspring. He had walked tirelessly with Maddock on his arm when he was a babe and his stomach was upset. She had attributed it to him being his heir but he had done no less for Inghinn when she was born but she was so easy to adore. A bundle of fair curls and cerulean blue eyes that mirrored her father's.
No! She would not allow thoughts of him to pervade her mind but it was of no use. Her thoughts were uncontrollable, linked to a man that had abducted her most cruelly. She tried to bring back the memories of being accosted at the Hunting Tower. The large hand that had clutched her mouth and tied her down like a slave. Never had she experienced anything remotely as humiliating as that moment. Yet, when she thought of his hands, images of an entirely different nature kept surfacing and seized her inner pictures. She shuddered, she had to be strong even against herself. It was the right thing to do, to extract herself from an unattainable position as the abducted wife, married against her will and locked away like a prisoner. These were the kind of thoughts she should relish, not the image of her husband asleep in a chair with a slumbering babe on his chest nor the passionate nights that had created them. Those thoughts served no purpose at all.
#
Hardly a cabin broke their solitude until the stone set where Dundee had fallen, Bonny Dundee that the Highlanders still loved despite Walter Scott. Elizabeth and her father were allowed a peep at Loch Rannoch after the untouched beauty of Killicrankie before the horses needed a rest.
At Dunkeld the old inn had been done up to a fine hotel where the most civil of landlords reigned, it made Elizabeth wish they had not baited the horses at Moulinearn, a dreary, desolate, solitary stone house with dirt without and smoke within. They only stopped briefly because Elizabeth needed to refresh herself.
A handsome new bridge conveyed them safely across the boundary river before a large float boat took them across the Tay at Inver, much to be preferred over the miserable sailboat that met them at Queensferry, on their leisurely stroll down the Highland Road. Elizabeth would have preferred for the horses to stretch their legs but her father was wiser. Longbourn's steeds could not be left in Scotland and should not be taxed overly much or they may have to spend several nights at a roadside inn while they recovered.
After resting their horses again in Fxlinburgh, the scenery of Cowden-Knows, Tweedside, Ettrick Shaws and Gala Waters, classical ground of the Border country passed before Elizabeth's eyes unseen. They stopped to dine at Jedburgh, her father wanted to see Old Melrose, a monastery and settlement that had been abandoned by the twelfth century but Elizabeth urged them to continue on their journey. She wanted to be so far south that turning the carriage around would be impossible.
Scotland was left behind by Kelso Eoad after passing the fields of Flodding. Her father might enjoy hearing the history of the field but Elizabeth had a hard time sorting out her thoughts to relate the tale she had been told. Arranging her ideas in her mind, The Flowers o' the Forest and Marmion ran through before images of the phantom and the English lady floated through her mind, spiked girdle and all, she could not manage a comprehensible rendition.
#
At some point, they must have broken off the turnpike road as the route became more scenic but the road was definitely less maintained. Potholes and ruts of this size were usually dealt with on the turnpike roads, they must have taken a wrong turn at Doncaster. The road narrowed further, making Elizabeth certain they were lost.
"Father, I believe we have taken a wrong turn, this cannot be the correct route to London. Perhaps, we should tell Albert to turn the carriage or at least ask for directions?"
"Are you telling me that you do not want to see your sister?"
"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked bewildered.
"Jane and Mr Bingley bought Kimberley Heights, three miles south of Nottingham in the summer of 1813. I must have told you..."
"You have but not that we were going there, I thought we were to Longbourn first?"
"Imagine what Jane would say if we passed her on the journey south and did not visit?"
He was right, of course, and she longed to see Jane more than anyone but she had her mind set on her childhood home as it would be the magical ingredient to reset her equilibrium. She immediately realised that she was being nonsensical, if anything could reset her equanimity it was Jane.
#
Elizabeth alighted the carriage and was met with an embrace from a surprisingly strong sister, as soon as her feet touched the ground. Jane posted a fair amount of questions through sobs and laughter that Elizabeth had a hard time deciphering.
She understood that she wanted the entire history. Her father could not have revealed her whereabouts after she had sent him the first letter in December of 1812. A long-overdue gesture that had come about after a trip to the kirk had resolved a misunderstanding.
Now was not the place nor the right moment to relate the sordid tale. It would have to wait a little longer. She loosened her tight grip around Jane's waist to create a little distance between them. Her heart dropped; Jane was dressed in black bombazine – she must be in mourning. Elizabeth turned to her father, what had he withheld from her? Who had passed that he had been reluctant to reveal for several days? Was this the reason he had ventured off their Southbound route?
"Jane, what has happened?"
It was not Mr Bingley that had passed as he stood at a respectable distance, suspiciously moisty eyed. Elizabeth distanced herself to an arm's length to get a better overview of her sister. The bombazine looked very pretty trimmed with plentiful crimson.
Jane chuckled which made no sense at all.
"Rest easy dear sister, no one has died, I am not in mourning. The King was very ill in 1812, his delirium had become so alarmingly violent it was supposed that his bodily strength must give way under daily continual paroxysms; his death was daily expected. Our mother was worried the price on black would rise and bought at a sale a quantity of bombazine that should last us a lifetime. The King withstood his illness although his mind is reported to be hopelessly gone and mother was burdened with what to do with a large amount of black bombazine fabric. We could not very well let it all go to waste. It felt fitting with you still missing, to use the fabric in our day dresses. Trimmed with other colours it serves us well enough when we are not entertaining."
Maddock was clinging to her skirt; her father must have lifted the boy out of the carriage. A pang of guilt soared in Elizabeth's chest for momentarily forgetting her children. She lifted Maddock into her arms and presented him to her sister. "This is your Aunt Jane and that is Uncle Charlie," Elizabeth smiled and gestured towards Mr Bingley who did not appear offended by her informal address. "It is a little a little late in coming but may I wish you joy!"
"It seems we owe you the same courtesy or..." Jane paled at the assumption she had made but Elizabeth put her at ease.
"You do, I have been married these four years to the honourable George Fitzwilliam, Laird of Eilein. I have lived at Càrn Gorm Castle by Loch an Eilein in the Scottish Highland; it is rather remote and isolated but comfortable. The Castle is not old, it was built about forty years ago with modern comforts. The old Castle was situated on an island but the causeway flooded and a new one had to be built on the mainland but here I am rattling on without introducing you to the latest extension to the Eilein family tree."
After putting Maddock on the ground, Elizabeth reached into the carriage and lifted her six months old daughter out of the cot she was sleeping in. "This is my daughter Inghinn."
"What an unusual name?"
"It is not in the Highlands, it means daughter which might be a little trite but I liked the pure sound of it. It is no worse than poor Maddock which is an Anglicization of the Welsh mad dog. It is a long story including a mastiff named Tempest."
Mr Bingley had given the sister sufficient time to greet each other and ordered them inside to protect them from the midday sun. Elizabeth did not mind the least as she had much to tell that must be concealed to the prying ears of the footmen and maids that were busy carrying their possessions from the carriage. Kimberley Heights was, as the name suggested, situated on the top of a hill. It was a beautiful white Palladian home with white columns and a roof terrace. The house stood crisp and inviting against the surrounding forest while the garden was neatly manicured with a fountain in the middle of the courtyard. Elizabeth thought the house reflected the owners perfectly.
Elizabeth carried Inghinn on one arm and held Maddock in the other as she ascended the white stairs to the entrance of Kimberley Heights. The elevation she did not feel she attributed to the house being new and unfamiliar to her and not the long-anticipated Longbourn.
The interior of Kimberley Heights was almost too grand, it rivalled Pemberley in splendour although the house was not as large. The foyer had marbled floors and gold trimmings on a light colour palette. Jane guided them to a delicate primrose coloured parlour and ordered refreshments to be delivered while their rooms were being readied. Elizabeth sat on a sofa where she could arrange her children about her, she already missed Evina and the nursery maid but it could not be helped. Mr Bennet had opted to retire to his chamber regardless of the chance of a little stale air. He could open a window as well as any maid, he claimed.
"Where is Miss Bingley? Does she not reside with you?"
"Caroline married three years ago," Jane informed while pouring her a cup of tea. She could not see her face but something in the tone of her voice made Elizabeth guess the match was either not a prudent one or blatantly unwanted. Jane always lowered her voice when speaking of unpleasant matters.
"Oh," Elizabeth sipped her tea, she did not want to pry but her curiosity was piqued.
"I would much rather hear your story but I will satisfy you by revealing that Caroline married Mr George Darcy less than a year after you went missing. It was a good match for her and we are pleased but circumstances were such that our connection was broken not long after. I will say no more before you have related the last four years."
Elizabeth knew that when Jane took a firm stance there was nothing that could sway her from her course. Besides, it came as no surprise that Mr Darcy and the former Miss Bingley had wed. There had been plenty of signs of an attachment at Pemberley. "I will tell you but I cannot before the children have been put to sleep."
Jane pulled the bell cord and her butler entered within minutes. "Send for Mrs Mills."
"Oh, am I going to be introduced to little Charles and Elizabeth?"
"Not yet... Mrs Mills will take the children to the nursery to afford us some privacy. The introductions will have to wait."
Elizabeth nodded and let her children leave with the capable nursemaid although it took some effort to remain seated. She was used to having them around and letting go was still hard, even for an hour or two until Inghinn needed sustenance. She sighed and braced herself for the shocking story she was about to reveal. Reliving it might refresh her memory though, it was necessary.
"I walked to the Hunting Tower to enjoy the view before we were returning to Longbourn. A man snuck up on me from behind, covered my mouth with his hand and made some horrible accusations towards the residents of Pemberley I did not believe for a minute. He tied my hands and feet, tossed me atop of his horse's back and rode off."
The expected gasps came from Jane and Mr Bingley who urged her to continue.
"I tried repeatedly to escape while we rode, and later walked northwards until we reached the Highlands. By a misunderstanding, it turned out that we were married. The Scottish marriage laws are vastly different from the English. As it turns out, declaring yourself to be so is sufficient to be considered wed. It left us both in an unattainable position as he was the laird of a clan and a substantial landowner, he naturally needed an heir."
Jane gasped again, Elizabeth thought it prudent to release her sister of her worst suppositions quickly.
"I did not want a true marriage and wasted no time in telling him so. He disagreed and deemed me a flight risk and put me on an island in the middle of Loch Eilein with a taciturn housekeeper for company. We had some comforts but the castle was a relic from medieval times and very cold to live in. There was no fireplace in my chamber, imagine getting out of bed on a cold winter morning.
"The perk was that the laird did not live there and he left me to my own devices until he came back with a distasteful suggestion. I was to agree to a true marriage and in exchange, he would let me contact my family."
"I thought you implied you had not been forced?" Jane spoke with indignation.
"I was not, I declined and marched back to Loch Eilein where he had to row me over to my prison. I held my stance until winter came and the Loch began to freeze over. I panicked at the thought of being cut off, quite possibly for weeks and caved to his demands. I moved to Càrn Gorm Castle but he did not importune me. We lived side by side without much interaction until spring when I made my last attempt of escape. I ran as far as I could, walked the bank of the Druie River to not leave any trace in the lingering patches of snow and almost succumbed to the cold when the sun had set. I have never been so happy to see a person in my whole life as I was when the laird found me huddled under a pine tree. It was I who instigated intimacy between us because he had promised I could visit with my family when he had his heir. The letters I sent to Papa went unanswered until my third attempt of which he replied to beg me not to send any more because it upset Mama. Apparently, he did not believe it was me who wrote but an imposter looking to earn a few coins."
Jane looked appalled and Mr Bingley was redder in the face than she had ever seen him. His mouth was set in a grim line when he enquired. "How old was this reprobate you were forced to marry?"
"He is two and thirty."
"Was he ill-formed since he could not find someone who would agree to marry him?"
Elizabeth chuckled mirthlessly. "No, not at all, the laird of Eilein would not have any trouble finding a willing bride. He is not ill-favoured at all but rather handsome. Tall and dark with chiselled jaws and the most beautiful blue eyes. He was as trapped as I when the misunderstanding about our marriage occurred. He was trying to be chivalrous by saving my reputation and by association, my sisters. It came as a complete surprise to him that I did not want to be saved that way. It was a most unfortunate circumstance that we were overheard as he has many responsibilities towards his clan and the succession of his land. As an only child, his father has passed, it is up to him to provide his successor. The only ones left in his family is himself and an ailing aunt. In his defence, I do not believe he has done anything of the kind before nor after my abduction. He holds some kind of grudge against Mr Darcy and thought I was his betrothed because I played on his pall mall team at Pemberley."
"I do not understand why you would even try to defend him?" Mr Bingley pronounced angrily.
Elizabeth flinched, she had not been aware that she was trying to explain and excuse his behaviour that was, by all accounts, unpardonable.
"We found evidence that someone had been living in the Hunting Tower when we searched for you. I simply must alert Mr Darcy, he might be in danger if the scoundrel took such pains as to abduct an innocent maiden, there is no telling what he might do to Mr Darcy."
Elizabeth could not explain it but she was certain Mr Darcy had nothing to fear from the laird of Eilein. Mr Bingley would not listen to that so she decided a diversion was needed before Mr Bingley gathered his footmen and went on a mission to the Scottish Highland he would lose. Acting like she did not already know, she enquired.
"You promised me the tale of why your acquaintance with the Darcys have become strained. I kept my part of the bargain, now it is your turn, Jane. Tell me why would Mr Darcy sever the acquaintance with his closest friend?"
Mr and Mrs Bingley exchanged a look Elizabeth could not interpret but they seemed to understand each other quite well.
"There were some rumours in town, after you disappeared. Mr Darcy believed it could damage his reputation to keep the connection between us as it had been."
"But—Caroline is your sister! How could he want to separate his wife from her family?"
"I doubt Caroline minded much, she would like to forget her ties to trade and she knows that I still own mills."
"The mill who provided her with a fortune of twenty thousand pounds?"
"The very same one."
"I understand if you want to alert Mr Darcy of my reappearance but I beg of you to wait, just a little while. I am weary from my travels and I would like to reacquaint myself with my sister before I have to face the world. The events as I have related them to you must never leave this room."
"Dear Elizabeth, may I call you by your Christian name? We are brother and sister after all."
Elizabeth nodded her consent.
"You cannot want to protect the man that ripped you from your family, violated you, stole your freedom and took away your choice of husband? He must be reported to the magistrate in Derbyshire and answer to his crimes. Hanging seems to be a reasonable punishment when you consider the repercussions of his actions."
"I am not protecting the laird, Mr Bingley, I am protecting my children. How will it affect them if their father is hanged for his crimes against their mother? Superior society would never forget, it would severely limit your children's chances of making an advantageous marriage by association. Until I can forget the responsibility I have towards my children, I could never hurt their father, much less be responsible for his death."
Mr Bingley sat down, defeat written on his countenance when an irate Inghinn was brought into the room by a red-faced Mrs Mills.
"I beg you pardon, Lady Eilein, but she is inconsolable."
Elizabeth chuckled, "yes, she has little patience with waiting for a meal. Could you escort me to the nursery, Mrs Mills? Jane, Mr Bingley, you will have to excuse me for a moment or two."
Elizabeth walked to the nursery where Maddock was playing side by side with Charlie.