The Whiskey Wedding Chapter 4
The entire trip to Scotland, Elizabeth fretted and worried over the pace of the Gardiner carriage heading to the border. She logically understood the horses and children, and even her aunt and herself, needed rest. Yet this understanding did not keep the edge from her voice as she barked at her aunt or cousins when she felt them tarrying too long at a stop. That her uncle had the resources to change their team at nearly every other stop satisfied her little. They were moving much too slowly to reach Lydia before she married Mr. Wickham, though by now, there was little to be done but make them marry if they should find them less so.
At last they reached the Three Hammers, an appropriately named place for the blacksmiths that performed many of the ceremonies. As the Gardiner carriage rolled to a stop, Madeline Gardiner gently put a hand on Elizabeth’s arm before she might alight from the equipage.
“Remember, we must be discreet. There is little to be gained if anyone knows we are searching for a Lydia Bennet.”
“Descriptions only, to be sure, much like the last score of stops.” Elizabeth bit her lip and tried not to feel despair. At both of the last two inns, there had been no recollection of a man in uniform and a young, lively brunette traveling together. There was a passing resemblance between Elizabeth and Lydia, but none of the innkeepers or stable hands recalled another lady of a similar coloring or appearance. As loud as Lydia liked to be, it was too much to hope her sister had merely remained quiet and demure if the couple had stopped. Truth be told, it seemed less and less likely Mr. Wickham and Lydia ever left London at all, but Elizabeth refused to admit it.
The common rooms of the Three Hammers belied the unifying purpose of the weary travelers. More than a half dozen young couples filled their bellies and drank their ale, some in clear celebration of their fait accompli, a few looking a touch nervous as the sun began to set. Perhaps they had yet to hear the anvil’s clang, pronouncing them man and wife. As Elizabeth approached a table with her aunt’s permission, and young Peter not far behind, she overheard the most distressing situation for a young couple in Gretna Green.
“Tis not my fault the Smith’s boy be out on errand! I paid him his gold and tomorrow we shall wed,” a young man scolded his female companion who sniffled as she cast her gaze down to her pewter plate of stew.
“Pardon me, have either of you met a soldier and a young woman, looking perhaps similar to me, on your way here?” Elizabeth drew in a deep breath as this interview would be the same as the others.
“We lives here, we do.” The indignant young man challenged Elizabeth’s assumption that the young couple was anything but proper.
“Please, I am not meaning to offend. My sister Ly– is lost and I am desperate to know if she and her beau have made it safely to Gretna Green.” Elizabeth caught herself before saying a name and hastily sought sympathy by confessing her loss. Unfortunately, the young woman who was companion to the lad burst into tears.
“My pa! My brother!” The young woman wailed, but turned to her companion for comfort.
“Best be off with ye, ain’t seen no soldiers.” The man spat on the floor dangerously close to Elizabeth’s feet. This made Peter step closer to his master’s niece, but Elizabeth held up a hand. She nodded and continued on, interviewing as many in the inn as she could. But table after table, there was little to learn and time was not on her side.
Exhausted by her efforts, Elizabeth could not find her appetite once she joined her aunt and cousins above stairs for the evening meal.
“I am truly sorry we did not find her, Lizzie. But perhaps it’s not all for naught. Your uncle and father might be enjoying a dinner with your sister and her new husband as we speak.”
Elizabeth poked the blobs of gray in the gravy on her plate and rubbed her neck with her left hand. She dropped her fork with a clatter.
“I did manage some news. It appears the blacksmiths here charge a small fortune of the desperate couples. Many travel further to Coldstream and Lamberton . . . ” Elizabeth’s last bit of hope spilled out with the last plan she held to find Lydia.
Madeline Gardiner looked at her children, weary and fussy from such a breakneck pace of travel. “That’s another eighty miles!” She shook her head as she mentally calculated the distance.
For her part, Elizabeth again remembered the conversation she once had about fifty miles of good road with Mr. Darcy, but did not think her aunt would find such a reference at all helpful. In fact, thinking about Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire felt like a bad omen as Elizabeth began to accept the social pariahs she and her sisters would soon become. If only she had known how incorrectly she had judged that shy man, a man as reticent as her sister Jane! Perhaps she and Mr. Darcy might have married and forced Lydia to remain home for the summer and she would not be so far from home and worn ragged by a fruitless aim.
“I am sorry, my dear, but we will remain here a few days to rest and then return home. If we travel more slowly to the south, perhaps we might enjoy a few sights and hills before we face whatever outcome we must in London.” Madeline Gardiner offered Elizabeth a half-smile, and her niece scowled.
As Elizabeth nodded to her aunt, a new plan niggled in the back of her mind. She had some money of her own and perhaps it was the memory of Mr. Darcy or the horrors to come, but she simply could not give up! Just a little further, perhaps to Coldstream and back, and Elizabeth would rejoin her aunt who said she would rest here for a few days. Her father had sent her to London on the post chaise many a time with her sister. With a footman, Elizabeth could brave the public transportation to fully exhaust their search.
Come first light, she would hop the carriage heading further northeast and feel satisfied she had done all that she might to save her family name.
That night, as Elizabeth wrote a note to her aunt with her plan while everyone else slept, the ghost-like memory of her mother’s face plagued her thoughts. Each excuse Elizabeth wrote sounded less convincing than the last, but her promise to her mother that she would find Lydia spurred her to push the doubts and fears aside. When at last she was finished, Elizabeth placed the folded note so her aunt would see it come morning and she tiptoed out of the room to go find Peter in the stables.
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Some love stories are worth forgetting—and remembering all over again…
Elizabeth Bennet had made many impulsive decisions in her life, but marrying Mr. Darcy while concussed might have been the most reckless. If only she could remember doing it.
Her mission had been simple: travel to Scotland, intercept her foolish sister before she eloped with a scoundrel, and save her family from ruin. The carriage accident wasn’t part of the plan. Neither was waking up married to the man whose proposal she’d rejected with scathing words only months before.
Darcy insisted their marriage was real, legal, and—most shocking of all—her idea. He had witnesses, a marriage certificate, and even her own letters explaining everything she couldn’t recall. What he didn’t have was her memory of falling in love with him.
Trapped at Darcy’s Scottish estate while her memory played hide-and-seek with the truth, Elizabeth discovered a man entirely different from the proud gentleman she’d once despised. But as her sister’s fate hung in the balance, Elizabeth had to fall in love with her own husband all over again—this time, knowing exactly what she was choosing.
A whiskey wedding, an amnesia bride, and a husband worth trusting—it’s a story of adventure and love for Our Dear Couple.
