Page 34 of Pemberley's Imposter
A sweet smell spread in the air, and Elizabeth could see a sliver of light before darkness enveloped her again.
The next time she came to, her bed was still cold, but it was not motionless. It rocked and swayed, making a loud rattlingnoise that was difficult to overlook when one was trying to sleep. It was also smaller than she remembered; it felt like the walls were closing in on her from all angles.
Her chest was warmed by her sleeping daughter, but the rest of her was cold. The cover must have fallen off the bed, but Elizabeth could not muster the strength to retrieve it. What was that noise? It sounded like carriage wheels on gravel, and she chuckled at the image of a carriage driving through her bedroom before she fell asleep once again.
#
Willow Cottage, Matlock
“What do you think of Willow Cottage?”
The colonel handed his dumbstruck wife out of the carriage.
The house was in a sorry state and much smaller than he remembered from his youth. It was odd how everything shrunk as one grew older.
He walked around the small building, wading knee-high through weeds and bushes before he tentatively opened the door. Judging by the mould growing visibly on the walls, the roof was leaking. It was uninhabitable and unsavable.
“We shall have to tear it down and rebuild,” he determined.
He did not miss his wife’s grateful sigh. She was too spoilt to imagine living in such cramped conditions, no matter what renovations could be made.
“I am so relieved. I do not need a house as grand as Pemberley, but it would be nice to have a guest room and a decent nursery.”
“You will have that and much more, dear Georgiana. Why not duplicate Pemberley here on Matlock land?”
The colonel spread his arms wide and was discouraged by the disbelief discernible on his wife’s countenance. He was compelled to put an arm around her shoulders to comfort her.
“We need not remove from Pemberley any time soon, my dear. I am in charge of your brother’s responsibilities for as long as he is away, and the building itself will take a long time to erect.”
“Georgiana!” The colonel cried as his wife crumpled to the ground.
When he was absolutely certain she was out, he worked as quickly as possible, unloading the carriage of its stowaway passengers. The child was obviously dead because her head dangled awkwardly as he carried her into the cottage. He could not bring himself to lay her on the floor but put her on the only cot on offer. The other two he dumped on the floor after dragging them over roots and stones to get them inside.
Considerable efforts were required to haul his cousin out of the compartment he had jostled him into at the back of the carriage. At the end of it, the exertion made sweat trickle down his back.
He regarded the results of his efforts. One looked dead, the other one was questionable. To be certain, he gave both of them an extra dose of the ether. It would be best to smack them over the head with something heavy. He looked around the sparsely furnished cottage. A rotten wooden chair was not much of a weapon, and Georgiana might come to at any minute. He had not given her much as he needed her to provide him with an heir. The chances that he would inherit Pemberley should Georgiana perish were slim to none as a distant Darcy relative was living in Somersby, and the calamity in the library had not been forgotten by his austere cousin. Did he have time to search for a rock?
It did not matter much. Hampered at both ends, there was no escape for either of them should they awaken against all the odds. The interloper would perish sooner or later. He did not mind if it was later; she deserved it for usurping his birthright. Well, not exactly his birthright but his due nevertheless.
The insignificant chit had bewitched his cousin so completely that he had forgotten his duty to his family. It was an unhealthy love, he reckoned. Darcy should thank him for saving him from himself. He had singlehandedly managed to secure the bloodlines of Pemberley; his ancestors would be proud of what he had accomplished.
A rustling of fabric jolted the colonel out of his reveries. He had better hurry before Georgiana revived. He had not given her much, just enough to knock her out for a short while. He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the carriage, where he sat her beside him, holding her upright with an arm around her waist, and gave the horses free rein. The thoroughbreds of Pemberley did not disappoint, forging out of the forest and down the road at a staggering speed. Georgiana groaned; it was not long before her eyes blinked against the bright sun.
“You fainted, my dear. I immediately put you in the carriage and set out for the comforts of Pemberley. We shall be there in about half an hour. Should we summon the doctor when we arrive? I know it is common when you are enceinte, so you should not be too concerned. I am exhilarated, Georgiana, and so soon after we married!”
The colonel forced his face into a happy expression.
“I do not know much about the signs, but I think fainting might be one,” Georgiana acknowledged. “I suppose I can ask Elizabeth when she returns.”
The colonel smiled and urged the horses onwards. Their journey passed quickly. His wife was tucked into her bed with the colonel and housekeeper exchanging knowing looks ere long.
#
Elizabeth felt the cloth cover her mouth and nose. The sickening sweet smell of rum had notified her of its reappearance. She held her breath while it was applied and exhaled hard to remove it when the hand holding it let it go. The cloth floated soundlessly to the dirt floor.
She squinted at the light and saw pale, polished hessian boots move over to the person lying next to her, kicking him in his ribs. The figure heaved slightly from the impact but rolled back into position without any response. He was fortunate to be on his back, while Elizabeth lay on her stomach with her head wrenched to the side. Well, not too fortunate; he looked more dead than alive.
The boots moved. Elizabeth hastened to close her eyes lest he was of a mind to cover her face with another freshly dunked cloth.
