Authors: M. A. Sandiford
19
As dusk fell Darcy held a
council of war with Hanson and Burgess, leaving the ladies to rest before the
next leg of their journey. They saw only two choices. The first was to cross
the river and follow a direct route to Padua; the second was to stay in the warren
of smaller roads below the river and approach Padua from the south-east. Darcy
was tempted by the second option because it made capture unlikely. However, he
was concerned that they were asking too much of Hanson and Miss Dill; he was
also anxious for Elizabeth’s health. Her alertness was improving, but she suffered
increasing attacks of nausea and sweating. A week wandering around the
countryside in a wagon would do her no good: she needed a comfortable bed, and
access to a physician in case of emergency.
On balance, then, he favoured the riskier
plan. Follow the road straight up to Oriago, cross in the late evening, and
head north-west towards one of the main roads. They might run into a constable
in Carandini’s pay, but so far Burgess had spotted no pursuers; perhaps the
search had been called off, or redirected to another area.
As they set off, the skies were clear,
with the promise of a moon to light their way. For a while the roads were
deserted, but entering the town they found themselves in a crush of carriages all
heading for the river. The chaos was in a way reassuring. Walkers joined the
procession, some carrying lanterns. Elegant couples strolled along the
roadside, with children running here and there, and dogs barking.
‘Can you see the river?’ Darcy called to
Burgess.
‘Just coming into view, sir.’
‘Stop here!’ Darcy turned to face the
others. ‘I’m going to reconnoitre.’ He noticed Elizabeth’s frown, and added:
‘It will take only a minute.’
Descending the step at the front he felt
a prickle of danger, as if a man might be training a musket on him. It was
nonsense, he told himself. In this confusion, nobody would notice him. He
advanced with the crowd and observed the bridge from the shelter of another
parked carriage. It was a swing bridge, hinged so that it could be parted to
allow barges to pass. At present pedestrians and carriages were crossing, so
river traffic was halted. At the near end, outside a small hut for the attendant,
a constable stood next to a man whose face looked familiar. The man was leaning
against the railing and peering into every carriage; now and then he also swept
his gaze across the pedestrians. Darcy melted back into the crowd, and advanced
a few more steps.
There was no doubt. The man was a
servant from Carandini’s villa on Lido. Not the footman who had opened the
door, but another, whom Darcy had seen momentarily when he broke in.
What to do? Their pursuers knew they had
left in a two-horse wagon, so hiding inside would not work. Walking Elizabeth
across was too risky. Turning round would be difficult when all the traffic was
directed towards the river. So many people lined the bank that the routes left
and right were impassable.
He went back and explained the
situation.
‘We can turn,’ Hanson said immediately.
Darcy pointed down the road. ‘It would
be like trying to swim against the tide.’
‘We have to try,’ Miss Dill said.
‘No!’ Elizabeth took Miss Dill’s arm. ‘I
cannot bear to be such a liability. You and Mr Hanson need to continue to Padua.
If necessary, Mr Darcy and I can get off here.’
‘How?’ Miss Dill asked. ‘You have no
carriage of your own, and no way of carrying your luggage.’
Elizabeth looked at Darcy. ‘We will find
a carriage.’
Darcy sighed: this was not London, where
one could hope to flag down a hackney. To unload their trunk and other bags in
this confusion would attract attention, and leave them unable to move quickly
if spotted.
‘I agree with Miss Bennet that we have
inconvenienced you enough,’ he said to Hanson. ‘But we cannot unload here.’ He spoke
to Burgess. ‘Listen carefully. The servant on the bridge is from Lido, and has
never seen your face. If Mr Hanson and Miss Dill agree, I suggest you stay with
them until Padua, where you can find a boarding house and unload our luggage at
your leisure. I will get off now with Miss Bennet, and join you by another
route. Once you are settled, stand outside the Basilica of Saint Anthony every
day at noon, so that we may find you. Clear?’
Burgess nodded, and Darcy turned to
Hanson. ‘It’s a lot to ask, but can you do this? I can give you some ducats to
cover any additional expenses.’
Hanson considered. ‘Is it not possible
that the constable will detain us anyway? He will have our descriptions from the
people at the villa.’
‘We can say that we dropped Mr Darcy and
Miss Bennet at a village near Villa Foscari,’ Miss Dill said.
‘That should suffice.’ Darcy frowned.
‘But your point is well made, since they may wonder why a servant previously in
my party is now travelling with you.’ He turned to Burgess. ‘I have it! When
Miss Bennet and I have descended, give the reins to Mr Hanson, then walk across
the bridge and wait a little further along. Provided you are not seen with
them, you cannot be identified.’
Hanson clapped his hands. ‘Excellent.’
Darcy looked at Elizabeth. ‘Are you sure
you want to go ahead with this?’
A grimace gave away her unease as she
shrugged. ‘I see no other option.’
Miss Dill took her hand with a
crestfallen expression. ‘Dear Miss Bennet, you are not well.’ She raised her
eyes to face Darcy. ‘Where will you go?’
‘I cannot say. We must improvise.’
Darcy loaded essential items into a
leather bag, and handed Hanson two gold coins from his belt. Miss Dill wept,
and Elizabeth hugged her briefly before crawling to the front, where Darcy was
waiting to help her dismount.
The wagon moved on, and they were alone at
the roadside.
20
Darcy’s heart beat faster
as Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes huge with panic. He had read once of
the symptoms of laudanum withdrawal, after learning that his aunt Lady
Catherine de Bourgh had badgered a physician into prescribing the remedy for
Anne. As the drug wore off Elizabeth was more alert, and steadier on her feet,
but might suffer any of the accompaniments of a cold—fever, headache,
sore throat and eyes—as well as attacks of anxiety. The extent of these
symptoms would depend on the dose, which must have been substantial enough to
keep her compliant, and administered over a period of several weeks.
‘What are we to do?’ she gasped,
breathless from the effort of dismounting.
He took her arm, and led her into the
crowd seething towards the river. ‘Let us walk along the bank so that we can
keep the bridge in view. I want to make sure that our friends cross safely.’
‘Might we be seen?’
‘I think not, provided we act like
everyone else. If we walked away from the river we would be pushing against the
crowd and more likely to attract attention.’
‘I wish I had a bonnet.’ She looked
down, as if to hide her profile, but kept pace without difficulty.
‘Burgess has crossed.’ Darcy slowed to
keep the wagon in view as it stopped at the attendant’s hut. Carandini’s
servant was talking to Hanson, who shrugged and pointed back into the wagon.
The constable looked carefully, and after a brief conference waved them on.
‘It’s all right,’ Darcy said. ‘They are
through!’
‘Thank God!’
‘We must take care now.’ Darcy turned
sharp left as Carandini’s man climbed up the bank and surveyed the crowd.
‘Don’t look back.’ He resisted the temptation to keep the servant under
observation, and kept in step with the crowd, which thickened as they
approached a cluster of rafts lagged together to form a platform.
Elizabeth tugged his arm. ‘What is
happening?’
He stood tall for a moment, and saw musicians
seated on a crimson carpet ringed with flowers and lanterns.
‘Let’s get closer to the bank.’
The press was now so dense that they
could scarcely move. Squeezing through a gap, Darcy pushed Elizabeth to the
front, and she cried out in delight as a silver-haired conductor strode to a
makeshift podium. The orchestra struck up an eccentric piece in which
violinists became percussionists by banging bows against music stands.
‘Rossini,’ Elizabeth said. ‘I heard it
at a concert, while you were away touring Florence and Rome.’
‘It’s a cheerful piece.’
‘Can we stay? Are we safe now?’
Darcy risked a look behind, and saw no
sign of pursuit. ‘Yes, but let’s edge forward when we get the chance.’
They gained twenty paces during the
overture, and the crowd began to thin. Elizabeth withdrew her arm to join in
the applause, facing him with a radiant smile. Without his support she
stumbled, and he caught her as she fell.
‘Pardon me.’ She looked down, deflated.
‘I’m ashamed to feel so feeble.’
‘You’re tired.’ He pressed a hand to his
aching temple, realising that he too was exhausted.
They had to find an inn.
After twenty minutes of painstaking
progress they had passed only two unsavoury
locande
, and Elizabeth,
making a brave effort, was near to collapse. Two locals had recommended Hotel
Petrarca, supposedly a short way along the riverbank. Darcy was wondering
whether it existed at all when he saw a villa set further back than the rest,
with an ornamental garden at the front and space for carriages to unload.
The foyer was well lit, with a tiled
floor and comfortable chairs. Hopeful again, Darcy helped Elizabeth to a divan
before speaking to the manager. The words came easily, since he had had many
such conversations on his travels. He needed two adjoining rooms for himself
and
la signora
. The sentence was scarcely out before the manager shook
his head. They were full. Not a single room. Because of the festival.
Darcy tried again. He was willing to
double the usual rate. It would only be for one night. The lady was tired after
a long journey, and help would be
hugely
appreciated. He produced a bag
of ducats from his frock-coat pocket to signal the form such appreciation might
take.
The manager was a plump mustachioed man
with eyeglasses perched on his nose and a self-important manner. After waving
his hands and protesting throughout Darcy’s appeal, he fell silent on seeing
the bag of coins, and finally raised a hand. There was a suite with two rooms.
One with double bed, the other a bathroom. It was reserved permanently for use
of a count. It should be empty tonight, but they would have to leave if the
count arrived unexpectedly. Of course, by letting the room to someone else, the
manager would be placing himself in a most vulnerable position …
The chamber was on the first floor
at the back—which at least meant only one flight of stairs for Elizabeth.
It had a wooden floor with Persian rugs, and practical furniture including a
four-poster bed, wardrobe, and small table with two chairs. Next door was a
washroom with bath and commode: evidently the count valued cleanliness.
‘You will have the bed, of course,’ Darcy
said. ‘I asked for a cold supper to be brought up.’
Elizabeth came through to view the
washroom, which was narrow and relatively bare.
‘Mr Darcy, you cannot sleep in this
room.’
Darcy pointed to the copper bathtub. ‘I
will borrow bedclothes and make myself comfortable here.’
On a marble-topped side-table she found
a jug of water, which she poured into a bowl to freshen up her hands and face.
‘You are sure there are no other rooms?’
He explained his conversation with the
manager. ‘I’m afraid I had to give him the impression that we were a married
couple.’ He retrieved the false papers from his bag and showed them to her.
‘The consul gave me these for use in emergencies. I think it safest that we go
under the names in the letters of safe conduct. I will be Mr Giles Ashley; you
will be my wife Rebecca. This means that if enquiries are made about English
persons staying at the hotel, we will not be discovered.’
She nodded vacantly, as if too weary to
assimilate this. ‘I would like to lie down now.’
‘Shall I wake you when supper arrives?’
‘No, just leave the food for later.’
He looked decorously away as she removed
her boots and hair clasps and lay fully-clothed on top of the bed.
Having rented out the count’s
chamber, the Petrarca did not stint on service. A liveried servant brought a
huge tray of cold meats, rolls, pickles, and fruit, accompanied by jugs of wine
and ale. At the same time a maid carried hot water to the washroom, and lit
them a small fire. Elizabeth, still awake, joined him at the table and tried salami
and cured ham. They finished with dark purple grapes, and apricots, all washed
down with ale, a pleasant change from the ubiquitous red wine. To eat a good
meal in comfort had become a luxury, and Darcy noticed that like himself,
Elizabeth showed no inclination to hurry. Apart from references to the food,
they ate in silence, as if shying away from discussions about their predicament.
Finally every morsel was gone. Their eyes
met, and Darcy stood up. ‘I will leave you in privacy now.’
She faced him, biting her lower lip as
if afraid of what she was about to say. ‘This is not right.’
‘I know.’ He spread his arms. ‘If you
prefer, I could seek a room elsewhere, but I confess I’m afraid to leave you on
your own.’
‘That is not what I meant.’ She rose,
and opened the door to the washroom. ‘It is not right that I should sleep in
comfort while you make do with
this
. You spent last night rowing across
the lagoon, and have had little or no rest today. You must be completely
exhausted. These are special circumstances. We are in a foreign land trying to
escape a man who would force me to marry against my will, and have you
imprisoned or worse. What matters is that we remain strong and alert.’ She
turned back into the chamber. ‘We will find a way of sharing this bed. If that
is not to your liking, then
you
will have the bed, and
I
will
take the bath.’
He recoiled. ‘Out of the question.’
‘Indeed?’ She faced him, hands on hips.
‘And which part of my argument do you dispute?’
He froze, partly lost for an answer, and
partly elated to be confronted by the old Elizabeth, the woman who had mocked
him at dances in Hertfordshire, and upbraided him after his proposal at
Hunsford.
Finally he smiled. ‘Do you imagine I’ll
be able to sleep in this bed, in the knowledge that you are shivering in a hard
copper bath in the next room?’
‘I might ask you the same question.’
He sighed. ‘What do you propose?’
‘We will lie side by side. It is not so
shocking, after all. We sat together at the table without committing any major
impropriety.’ She threw up her hands. ‘In any case, for all the world knows we
are Mr and Mrs Ashley, so our reputations will remain intact whatever we do.
Did you bring any suitable attire?’
‘Only this.’ He pulled her nightgown
from his leather bag and shook it out. ‘Still damp from the boat, I fear.’
She folded the plain cotton garment over
a chair beside the fire. ‘And yourself?’
‘I will keep my day clothes.’
‘Then so shall I.’
She sat on the side of the bed and leaned
forward as if to remove her socks, then thought better of it and slipped fully
clothed between the sheets. Darcy remained standing, his mind frazzled by
weariness. To share a bed with Elizabeth! The moment he had hoped for had been
reduced to absurdity, as if fate were mocking his dreams. He blew out the
candles, unbuttoned his vest, removed his boots, and in white frilled shirt and
breeches sat on the side of the bed, facing away from its other occupant. Swallowing,
he lay on top of the blankets.