A/N: Hey gang, a couple of surprises in that last one, eh? I'll clean up the timeline in an edit, but the intent is that the last chapter happened about a week after Lizzy's capture in Lambton, and a week before the wedding. Some asked how Bingley fell in love so fast, and I'll clear that up about 3 chapters from now. A lot of surprises with Anne/Bingley which doesn't happen every day. Fun

Fact: the oldest unpublished works I have has a Bingley/Anne and Fitzwilliam/Jane Pairing, but I'm not sure I'll ever finish it. It's a very ambitious story that's been in the hopper a long time.

Wade


As Elizabeth stood up from the table, Baker said, "Miss Bennet, I hate to be indelicate, but I will need to take charge of any money you have hidden away. We will be two days on the road, and I find ladies without a farthing to their name are less likely to break away than those that do. Will you give me your word that you will hand it all over to me, including whatever you may have sewn into your dress or tucked in a boot, in exchange for my word that I will not search your luggage?"

Elizabeth frowned, but as much as she enjoyed the idea of taking the thief-catcher down and escaping, she could clearly see the futility of the endeavor. This was her first attempt at flight, while for him, she was one more in a long line of people being returned against their wills.

Thinking a few moments, she finally said, "All right, Mr. Baker."

The man nodded and held his hand out to indicate she should precede him up the stairs.

She followed as directed, and they went down a long and narrow corridor, preceded by the innkeeper's wife. The matron opened the last door on the right, and gestured Elizabeth inside. The room was small and sparsely furnished, but otherwise clean, tidy, and completely acceptable.

The innkeeper's wife said, "Your maid, Molly Hatcher will be along in a few minutes, ma'am. The gentleman has ordered a bath for you. The water should be along in about twenty minutes."

"Thank you" was all Elizabeth could manage. It seemed to her that she would have to start learning to appreciate small gestures and small pleasures. She then watched as the innkeeper's wife bustled off to her next task, if any.

Baker said, "I will be in the next room down the hall, Miss Bennet. I sleep very lightly. Miss Hatcher should be along. She will return your dress and valise to me. I shall have the dress brushed down for you. There is no time to have it laundered."

Elizabeth nodded, not bothering answer. It seemed that Mr. Baker had everything under control, and she just thanked whatever fates were responsible that she had what appeared to be a kind jailor, while cursing the same fates that she had an efficient one. Once inside, she simply sat down on the bed while waiting for the bath water.

A half‑hour later, a knock on the door brought a line of servants carrying buckets of steaming water, followed by a young girl of perhaps sixteen years.

The girl curtsied. "Molly Hatcher, ma'am. I am to be your maid for the next few days."

Elizabeth curtsied as well. "Molly, I shall hope we can be friends, or at least refrain from strangling each other."

Much to her relief, Molly giggled. "Ma'am. I can safely say I have not strangled a single gentlewoman this week, or even this year."

Elizabeth laughed, and wondered about the girl's history. By the time they had exchanged the pleasantries, the small tub had been filled with as much water as it was likely to get. It was more of a hip bath than a full bath, but considering it was the first bath in several days, she was content.

Molly turned out to be a pleasant girl and lively conversationist. Elizabeth quickly undressed and washed in the bath before the water became too cold, while Molly took her dress out to be brushed as well as could be done.

When Elizabeth was out of the bath, and dressed in her night clothes, Molly braided her hair for sleep. When that was done, she bade the young maid to sit down for the same treatment.

Molly said, "Oh, no, Miss! You seem confused about the duties of maid and mistress."

Elizabeth chuckled grimly. "You seem confused about our relative roles, Molly. I am not your mistress. I am simply another traveler, and you are with us to maintain propriety. For the next two days, can we just be two women who need to travel together. The roles of servant and mistress are too confining, and I fear …"

She stopped herself just before confessing that of the two of them, Molly was the superior in terms of freedom of movement. There was no profit in that course, so she continued, "… Well, let us just say that it is unnecessary."

Molly looked uncertain, so Elizabeth just took her shoulders gently, turned her towards the mirror and helped her undress.

"Fear not, Molly. I have four sisters, although I am quite cross with all of them at the moment. I am well accustomed to this activity, so do not fret."

A quarter hour later both ladies were composed for sleep. Mr. Baker had not really prepared any sleeping arrangements for the maid. There was a narrow cot in the room that looked about as comfortable as a woodpile, so Elizabeth suggested they share the bad, which had plenty of room.

With a sigh, then blew out the remaining candles and went to sleep – eventually.


Elizabeth heard the knock on the door well before dawn. She had not brought a dressing gown in her valise, so just opened the door in her night clothes and stood behind it to cover herself. A young girl of around fourteen years introduced herself as the innkeeper's daughter and handed her a hamper of food, and her dress, brushed and somewhat cleaner looking.

She returned to find Molly stretching, so the two quickly helped each other dress, and were sitting by the door when Mr. Baker came for them.

He ushered them downstairs, and into a waiting carriage. The conveyance was nothing much to look at, and once they started moving, Elizabeth could tell it was nothing much to boast of comfort-wise, but it was small and light, and it did move fast. They could not make quite as good of time as the post, since the that conveyance changed horses frequently, but it was, according to Mr. Baker, entirely fast enough to have them at Longbourn in two days' time with room to spare.

Mr. Baker chose to ride instead of sitting in the coach, which Elizabeth assumed was an attempt to further protect her precious reputation. She was beginning to think the entire 'reputation' issue was the bane of her existence, but she was happy not to have to put up with the man.

Looking for some diversion, she asked, "Molly, how did you come to be taking this particular job?"

The young girl showed no particular shyness, which Elizabeth enjoyed.

"Ma'am – I have been taking care of my ailing mother this last year. She passed a month ago, and I am trying to gain better employment. I have hopes of becoming a maid at one of the great estates, but it takes time. The innkeeper keeps track of people seeking positions, so he suggested me for the task."

Elizabeth smiled, and cautiously asked, "What are you told of the job?"

"Almost nothing, ma'am. I do not even know your name. I just know you need a maid to accompany you. I do not really understand why I can take a carriage or even the mail back home by myself, but you are not allowed to do so."

Elizabeth grumbled. "It is just how society works. It is ridiculous, but it is as it is. I am worried about you returning by yourself though. It is in fact a bit dangerous."

"That man –Mr. Baker– he said that he will find a safe way for me to travel, either with another maid, or with a couple, or he might even send me back in this coach. He seems to know how to get things like that done."

Elizabeth sighed. "He certainly does."

They both sat in silence for some time, and Elizabeth said, "Can you read, Molly? If so, perhaps we could speak of what you have read."

She felt like an absolute cretin when Molly replied, "No, ma'am. My father thought it a waste to teach a girl to read, and with four brothers, well …"

She looked somewhat embarrassed, so Elizabeth said, "Would you like to learn?"

"Is it possible?"

"Of course. It is never too late to learn. I believe I will have quite a lot to learn soon."

She did not feel it prudent to elaborate on what she had to learn. It was obvious Mr. Baker had gone to some trouble to keep her identity as secret as possible. Molly did not even know her given name, nor did she seem to be aware that her name was soon likely to be Mrs. Darcy. The innkeeper and his wife seemed like people who could keep their mouths shut, and the coach was obviously Mr. Baker's personal conveyance, as it was designed for utility and speed. It had not escaped her notice that the doors both had stout locks built into the sides.

Not wanting to spend too much time fretting about her future, which she could not do anything at all about, she said, "You cannot learn in two days, but you can begin. Let us see what we can do with what I have. If you are looking for employment in a great house, you will be lucky to get anything better than a scullery position, but if you work hard and have a fair employer, you might advance. You will not advance very far though if you cannot read."

Elizabeth took a book she had in her valise and started working with Molly to recognize letters and went about it for the next hour. When she saw the carriage approaching a village, it seemed likely they would have to bate the horses, so when they entered the village, she took a chance and waved down Mr. Baker. The village was one about the size of Meryton, and it had the usual collection of stores.

When the man came close, Elizabeth said, "Mr. Baker, since you are not a beast, may I use some of my money to buy some materials to make the journey easier – keeping in mind the relative ease of hauling a reasonably contented woman acting like a rough approximation of a lady versus a spitting hellcat."

Baker liked the young lady – not enough to let her go of course, but he did like her spirit. He suspected that whichever lunkhead was waiting at the other end this debacle was due for an educational experience. He reflected that he would like to see that, but obviously would not so he would be reduced to speculation.

"Very sell, Miss B …", and he stopped just before saying her name. A man of careful habits, he always tried to keep the circle of people who knew his business as small as possible, and the maid he had engaged did not need to know the lady's name. He was not surprised that a woman like Miss Bennet would want something to read, or the like, so he agreed to the purchase. After all, her father had not said that he was prohibited from allowing the lady to spend her own money, and her father had never hinted that the money was stolen.

Collecting himself, he said, "Yes, ma'am. What is it you require?"

"Some materials from the bookshop."

Thinking that she could not possibly get into all that much trouble at a bookshop, he asked her how much she would need and carefully counted it out.

"We will bate the horses here for an hour, and I will get us tea and refreshments at that inn. May I have your word that you will attend me there within the half‑hour?"

"Yes", she said, without further comment.

The man nodded, and she took Molly.

Within the half‑hour, Mr. Baker was sitting with the driver sipping tea, some of which had been 'supplemented' as appropriate for a man driving a coach in the middle of December, a foolish operation if there ever was one.

He saw his latest young lady sit down at the table along with her maid and wondered what they had purchased. He learned soon enough, as the maid anxiously reached into the package and brought out a primer and a slate, suitable for teaching a child to read and write. The bag seemed to contain a few more books, which he took to be more children's books for the task. The maid obviously had no idea what do to with the primer at first, but it seemed that lessons were to be the order of the day.

So, two days of lessons in reading. It was not the strangest activity Mr. Baker had ever seen on a return journey, but it was close.


True to his promise, they rode late into the night, fell into exhausted slumber after yet another meal of beef stew (or some kind of stew at any rate). True to his word, Mr. Baker did not stint on their meals or their accommodations. Molly proudly showed Mr. Baker that she could write her own name and read a few paragraphs of the primer, and he made the same kind of non‑committal noises he made for his sister's children when they did the same thing. He had no idea how the raising of children was done and was highly skeptical of the entire enterprise. His upbringing had been quite different from the usual, but closer to Miss Hatchers than to Miss Bennet's.

In the afternoon of the second day, Elizabeth recognized Hatfield, the town where her Northern journey had begun. She refrained from telling Mr. Baker that if they waited until midnight, she could perfectly well walk the rest of the way home, since she had done it before. He was not a beast, but he was not necessarily a humorous man either.

Mr. Baker stopped there to bate the horses as usual, and while they were enjoying their tea, he waited until Miss Hatcher went off to refresh herself, and spoke to Elizabeth.

"I imagine you walked this far, Miss Bennet?"

"Yes. I did so in the middle of the night."

Baker nodded. "If you have no objections, I will say it was bravely done. You almost pulled it off. It was stupid and dangerous, but still brave."

Elizabeth snorted. "Can we agree that most brave acts are stupid and dangerous. Is that not the definition of 'brave'?"

The man chuckled. "You may have a point there. However, as amusing as the discussion is, I have another item to bring up."

Elizabeth just raised her eyebrow.

"It is about your money, Miss Bennet. You had more than the usual amount for runaways."

"I save more diligently than others, I suppose."

Baker sighed. "I will have to give it to your father. My experience says he will just keep it and spend it on his own comforts, assuming rightly or wrongly that you owe it to him for all the expense and inconvenience of the chase."

Elizabeth nodded. "I suppose you are right, Mr. Baker. At best he will give it to my future husband, which will be like dumping a cup of tea in the ocean."

Baker looked around to ensure their privacy. "Nobody but you and I know how much coin you had. I believe if I returned half of it to your father, his suspicions would be satisfied. I cannot allow you to just hide it somewhere local where you could use it for another escape attempt, but …"

He paused. "… but, if you had some other thing you would like to do with the money, I could see to it."

"Such as?"

"I have no idea, Miss Bennet. I could send it to someone for safekeeping if you like."

"And I should just trust you to do that?"

He smiled. "No, you should not. You should never trust anybody in my profession, but if that is your best option, I am at your service. I give you my word I will not steal it, but if I was the sort of man to steal a lady's money, my word would be worth nothing."

Elizabeth thought about it for a moment, and finally said, "If I give it to Molly, will you guarantee her safe passage, with the coin intact back to Derbyshire, preferably in safety and comfort?"

He nodded.

Elizabeth said, "Than I accept your offer, Mr. Baker. Give me the money. I will give her a few suggestions about how to best use it. It will be nice to think that somebody will profit from my discipline."

The man nodded. "I am impressed, Miss Bennet. Not everyone would think of a maid. May I presume you wish her to continue her education?"

"Yes, of course. That is why I started it."

"Did you meet the proprietor of the bookshop, Mr. Bartlet?"

"Yes. He was a lovely man."

"I suggest she ask him to direct her education. I think he will see to her appropriately."

Elizabeth smiled. "I will do so. And Mr. Baker?"

"Yes."

"I trust you, sir, but you should be aware that I will likely be back in Lambton sooner than later, possibly with considerably higher status than I presently enjoy. I would be most unhappy to find that Molly's fortune did not quite make it all the way to her lessons."

"You wound me, Miss Bennet", he said, but then leaned his head back and laughed.

The last word before Molly returned was the whispered words, 'cheek of the devil'.