her hands as she scooped the water out of the bucket and then watched the beads of water as they ran down her face and neck.
She dried herself as best she could on her handkerchief and then ventured outside to put it by the fire to dry. But when she saw a man by the fire she stepped back uncertainly. His face was weather-beaten and his clothes were made of the skin of the chamois which wandered sure footed in the mountains. He appeared to be a simple shepherd, but in his left hand he held a bag and, after all the alarms of the previous day, she found herself wondering if it hid a pistol or a knife. He made no threatening moves, however, and he took from the bag a loaf of dark bread and a lump of hard cheese.
‘It can’t compare with hot rolls and hot chocolate,’ said Darcy humorously, ‘but it will satisfy you, at least.’
Elizabeth took it gratefully, tasting none of it in her hunger, eating rapidly until it was all gone. She realised with dismay that she had finished it and tried to apologize, but Darcy only laughed and said that he and Jean-Paul had already eaten.
He turned and said something to the shepherd. Although they spoke in French, Elizabeth could not understand it, for it seemed to be in some kind of regional accent or dialect.
‘Are you ready to go on?’ Darcy asked her when the two men had finished speaking. ‘We are not out of danger yet. We cannot go back so we must go on; it is a good thing perhaps, for there are many things I still wish to show you. It will mean more riding and we must travel on mules: where we are going, no coach can travel and even horses cannot pick their way.’
‘Where are we going, if even horses can’t walk there?’ she asked.
‘Over the mountains,’ he said. ‘Across the Alps, over Mount Cenis, where only sure-footed beasts can tread. And then down the other side of the mountains, to Italy.’
‘Italy!’
‘Yes, Italy,’ said Darcy. ‘I think you will like it, and I have many friends there.’
‘You have many friends everywhere,’ she said.
‘When a man has lived to my age he cannot help it,’ he said sombrely. Then he cast off his low mood and said, ‘I want to take you to Venice. It is a beautiful city, full of treasures, and one you should see. You have had to endure much over the last few days but this is meant to be your wedding tour. I want it to be something you will always remember.’
‘There is no danger of me forgetting it, I do assure you!’ said Lizzy mischievously.
Darcy laughed.
‘No, I suppose there is not, but I want you to remember it for better reasons than the ones you have at present. I want you to be sorry to go home, not eager for it!’
‘Sorry to go home to Pemberley? I think that will never be. But I must confess, I would like to see something of Europe beyond wolves and forests! They will not believe me, at home, when I tell them of all my adventures.’
‘Jean-Paul is coming with us,’ said Darcy. ‘He will be our guide. Are you ready to go on?’
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘Then we should go.’
After making some attempt to tidy her hair she set her bonnet low on her head and tied it firmly beneath her chin.
She eyed her mule with misgiving but it stood placidly whilst Darcy helped her to mount.
They waited only for Jean-Paul to gather together some food for the journey and then they set off. They moved out of the last few sheltering trees, and before long they were above the tree line altogether. All around them were the purple peaks of the Alps, bathed in hard sunshine and topped with gleaming snow. Elizabeth felt the cold and was glad of her cloak and her gloves as well as her warm boots.
She felt her spirits begin to lift despite her worries. It was impossible to be downcast amidst such magnificence, where she was surrounded on every side by the majesty of the Alps. Their travels so far had not prepared her for the sublime and terrible grandeur of the views. She soon became accustomed to her mule. The stalwart animal picked its way stubbornly yet surely over the rough and rocky paths that wound to dizzying heights as they climbed the mountains.
They passed glaciers covered in snow and