She nodded and stared at her feet, disappointed she would be so far away from the one person she was acquainted with. At Longbourn, another person was always nearby, whether it be Hill in the next room or a maid down the hall. She had a bed chamber, not an apartment. It would be quite a task to become accustomed to her new life.
Lord Darcy snapped his fingers, and Timmons seemed to magically appear.
“Show the Lady Elizabeth to her apartments, Timmons.”
“Yes, my lord,” said the butler.
“I bid you good night. Sleep well.” Lord Darcy gave her another small kiss on her forehead.
“Good night, my lord,” Elizabeth replied in a small voice.
Heather and her trunks were already in the apartment when Timmons opened the door. Never in her life had Elizabeth seen a more opulent set of chambers. She entered into a sitting room decorated in shades of pale green and gold before Timmons led her to the bed chamber. The bed was draped with what seemed like a thousand bolts of light silver-blue velvet that were pulled back to reveal a high, fluffy bed. Thick, warm-looking blankets were piled on top of the mattress. Fine paintings adorned both rooms, all pastoral, and they complimented the furnishings perfectly. Had she not died and gone to heaven?
“My lady, hot water was ordered shortly before we arrived,” said Heather. “They are bringing it up now. We should prepare for thy bath.”
Elizabeth stared at Timmons, and her mouth screwed up a little. Her father had never had a butler, and she was unsure of the protocol.
“I believe, my lady, all you need do is dismiss me.”
She bit back a nervous laugh, and amusement lit the servant's dark eyes.
“Many thanks, Timmons. I believe that shall be all,” she said as she drew her body into its full height and attempted to sound as commanding as she could manage.
“Very well, my lady.” As he turned, he gave her a quick wink and nod of approval.
When the door had closed, Elizabeth threw herself ungracefully into a surprisingly comfortable chair and let out a long breath. Heather came up behind her and began working the pins and ribbons out of her hair, drawing the brush through with long, gentle strokes.
“’Tis been quite the day, has it not, my lady?”
“Oh, come now, Heather, ye and I played together as children. Ye need not be so formal when we are alone.”
“I am fearful that we could be watched.”
Elizabeth sat up and eyed her maid closely. “What have ye heard?”
“That the master plans to put a guard at the stair of the wing. That is all, but it has me cautious.”
Huffing in disbelief, the future princess crossed her arms over her chest. A guard at the foot of the stairs! How would she even begin to plot an escape? Where in the world did he think she might run? She did not know this country, its customs, or its people, and they did not know her. She very much doubted that she would find an ally close by.
Incensed, Elizabeth rang for a servant while sending Heather in to ascertain the temperature of the bath. A few minutes later, a young house maid appeared.
“Yes, mistress?”
“Pray, would ye fetch High Lord Darcy? I have an urgent matter I would like to discuss with him.” She made sure her tone left no room for argument.
The girl coloured and stared at her wringing hands.
“What is it?”
“The master has left the house.”
“He has? Did he leave word as to where he was going?”
“Not to my knowledge, mistress.”
“And what is thy name?”
“Brigitta.”