“We passed a small posting place not a mile back, sir,” Anders called. “Nothing grand, but they had smoke at the chimney and a sign swinging.”
Darcy weighed the matter. Two miles lost, there and back, close to two hours lost. Still, he would not be accused of having sacrificed a lady’s health for his own convenience, be the ailment real or imagined.
“We will return to the inn,” he said tersely. “Turn the team with care. The road is narrow.”
“Yes, sir.”
The carriage slowed, swayed, and then began a cautious arc in the road. Mrs. Hobart sank back with a sigh of relief that sounded suspiciously satisfied for one in the grip of mortal indisposition.
The posting inn to which they returned was small and plain, its sign, a faded pheasant, creaking upon its bracket as the chill wind caught it. The yard was far from elegant, but a thin column of smoke rose from the chimney, and the smell of baking bread drifted enticingly beneath the sharp odour of horses.
Darcy descended first, the cold striking him harder after the stuffy confinement of the coach. He offered his hand to Elizabeth again. She took it with barely a pause, her fingers cool now, her expression alert and concerned as he turned again to assist Mrs. Hobart.
Mrs. Hobart stepped down, giving a small moan as her feet touched the ground. “My strength is quite gone,” she declared. “I do not know how I shall mount the stairs. I must have a chamber in the house. His Majesty’s instructions did not include the sacrifice of my life upon some wretched English road.”
The landlord hurried towards them as they entered, wiping his hands upon an apron. “Welcome, sir, welcome. Weather is rough for travelling. You are wise to stop. We have a fire in the parlour, and my best room is at your service.”
“The best chamber must be reserved for Her Highness,” Mrs. Hobart announced, with a little flutter of her handkerchief towards Miss Bennet. “She is of royal blood and must not be exposed to any common discomfort. I must be lodged near her, that I may attend to her needs. You will ensure that no one disturbs us.”
The landlord stared, his mouth parting. “Royal— Your— Well, I never— That is, of course, madam. Whatever is in my poor power—”
Darcy felt his patience strain. “Mrs. Hobart,” he said, his voice cool, “Miss Bennet is travelling under my protection. I must request that you refrain from making any demands upon this house in her name. Winter has taxed innkeepers enough without our stripping them of every blanket and mattress.”
She turned an affronted look upon him. “I speak only as is proper for a lady of Her Highness’s station, Mr. Darcy. You may rely upon me to remember my duty, even when others forget theirs.”
Before he could reply, Miss Bennet did so.
“Sir,” she said to the landlord, her tone calm and civil, “your ordinary accommodations will be more than sufficient. The warmest chamber you have remaining will answer. I beg you will not displace any other guest on our account. We shall not be here long.”
The man blinked, visibly relieved. “As you say, miss. As you say. There is a small room at the back that keeps the heat well, and another next it. My wife will see to it at once.”
Mrs. Hobart sniffed loudly, but walked indoors, leaning on the landlord’s arm. Miss Bennet hesitated. She looked over at Darcy.
“Mr. Darcy,” she said, “do you think it necessary to send for an apothecary? I confess I do not know how to proceed. Mrs. Hobart has never mentioned this ailment to me, but I suppose that does not preclude her suffering from it.”
“If Mrs. Hobart is sufficiently unwell to halt our journey,” he replied, “then her condition is sufficiently serious to warrant medical advice. I willnot be the gentleman who presses on against a lady’s protest and then must answer to her relations when she collapses upon the road. I shall request the nearest apothecary be sent for at once.”
Her shoulders eased. “Thank you. That relieves my mind.”
Darcy inclined his head. He fully expected to learn that the lady had no ailment, but he would go through the proper motions. “Pray go in with her.”
Her gaze met his for a moment. There was something like surprise there, and gratitude unadorned by irony.
“Very well,” she said softly. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy.”
She followed the landlord into the dim interior, her arm brushing his as she passed. The faint touch irritated him as much as the words had pleased him. He did not choose to be conscious of Miss Bennet to that degree.
He turned away sharply and stepped outside to speak with Anders and Johnson.
“We shall take advantage of our time here. The horses must be rubbed down and fed,” he said. “But do not allow them to be overwatered.”
Anders looked at him as though he had committed a betrayal. “Of course not. Sir.”
He replied only with an apologetic glance before turning to Johnson. “Enquire whether there is a smith or farrier in the village. If there is any fault in the wheels or harness, I would sooner learn it now.” They may as well take advantage of the early stop and be certain everything was in excellent condition for the road ahead.
“Yes, sir,” Anders said. “We will see to it. Johnson, do not let anyone spoil those traces.”
Johnson grinned. “I shall watch them as sharp as a sergeant major. It is not as though there is much else to do in this place.”