North by Northanger (A Mr. & Mrs. Darcy Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page B

moment. “I am. If our mothers were friends, Captain Tilney must come from a worthy family. We can only gain from renewing the connection.”
    And she could only gain from Darcy’s having the novelty of a new acquaintance to distract him from his well-meant but excessive concern for her health.
    “I wonder how old a man he is. He might remember your mother.” It was ironic that they should receive a letter mentioning Lady Anne so soon after discovering the one written by her, but she welcomed the coincidence. With luck, Captain Tilney would bring happiermemories to the forefront of Darcy’s mind, and the desperate tone of Lady Anne’s final note would recede from it.
    “Whether he remembers her or not, I look forward to meeting him.” Darcy cast her a look of enquiry. “Unless you would rather not delay our return to Pemberley? Perhaps it would be best for your health if we traveled straight home. We also have arrangements for the harvest feast to oversee.”
    Each autumn, Pemberley hosted a harvest feast for its tenants and villagers. The Darcy family had sponsored the event for generations. Elizabeth looked forward to this year’s day-long celebration, her first as mistress of Pemberley. But they need not forgo the opportunity to meet Captain Tilney—the date of the feast was still many weeks distant, and their steward and housekeeper had preliminary preparations well in hand.
    “No,” she said quickly “I think a stay in Gloucestershire sounds like a pleasant means by which to break up the long journey to Derbyshire. In addition to the diversion of meeting the captain, Northanger Abbey surely offers more comfort than an inn. And plenty of time remains before the harvest feast.”
    “All right, then,” he agreed. “I shall advise Captain Tilney to expect us Tuesday week.”

Five
Mrs Coulthard and Anne, late of Manydown, are both dead, and both died in childbed. We have not regaled Mary with this news .
    —Jane Austen, letter to Cassandra
    E nticed by a glorious autumn day—crisp air, warm sunlight, and not a cloud in the cerulean sky—Elizabeth elected to walk to Lady Catherine’s lodgings the following afternoon. She had always preferred the use of her own ten toes to other forms of travel, but even more so since arriving in Bath. The enclosed sedan chairs by which residents moved around the city created in her such a sense of confinement that each time she hired one, by the time she reached her destination she could barely restrain herself long enough for the bearers to lower it before bursting from the tiny box. So she reserved the cramped, jostling conveyances for times when it rained hard enough to render walking unpleasant even to her—a frequent-enough occurrence in Bath.
    Though not exactly anticipating unmitigated delight in her errand, she set out for Camden Place determined to enjoy the fine weather and opportunity for exercise. Accompanied by her maid, she crossedthe bridge and entered Broad Street before turning up Landsdown Road. Here, however, her pace slowed. Bath was a city of hills, some of them quite steep, but she had not realized that Camden Place sat atop one of the most extreme slopes. She found herself stopping to catch her breath as she toiled uphill.
    The struggle surprised her. She considered herself in good form, and was not unused to exertion; she had expected the climb to challenge but not utterly wind her. She raised a hand to her chest and felt her heart racing beneath her fingertips. What was the matter with her today?
    She responded to her maid’s solicitous enquiries with a dismissive shake of her head, certain that she merely needed a few minutes to allow her pulse to resume a less frantic rate, and cited a desire to look in the window of the nearest shop. A display of dolls prompted her to consider the child she carried.
    Would she bear a girl? For all her teasing of Darcy, she of course could not know with certainty. But if the ease with which she imagined the