by Iris Lim
“We are not compromised.”
“But I am in love.”
Her eyes met mine with a remarkable strength. Her bare fingers grew colder on my arms.
I blinked rapidly – heaving and crying. “Jane Bennet, darling, I love you – your kindness and beauty are –”
“I admire you too – sir.”
I paused at her response and its civility. That she could not promise herself in this state, with so short of an acquaintance – I knew full well.
It was the gnawing disappointment I felt in my soul that I disliked.
“I owe you a grand courtship – of gardens and roses and tea,” I stated. Her grip on me grew looser by the moment. I knew the time to enact my escape drew near. “I shall make it up to you, Jane, if you can promise me –”
“Yes, I promise.” Her weak smile was no less beautiful than her strongest ones. “If we all survive – I shall marry you.”
With rapidly-growing gladness, I kissed her hands, pressing them closely to my face. The joy in my veins was entirely new. No Miss Glaston or Miss Turner or Miss Frederick had ever touched my heart with such bliss and serenity.
“Thank you.” More tears slipped from my eyes. Her forgiveness and kindness knew no bounds. I wished to marry her – I had to marry her – for reasons far beyond propriety. “Thank you –”
“Go.” Her hands pressed against my shoulders. “Save us.”
I paused in my joy. She was right – entirely so.
“Stay warm,” I insisted, reluctantly gathering the sheets.
She nodded gently, granting me images of a thousand other such nights together.
“If the robber returns, please assure him that I left only to relieve myself.” I planned belatedly. She listened with the patience of an angel. “I shall be quick – as quick as I can.”
The dullness in her eyes disappeared when she smiled. “I shall wait, Charles. Take good care.”
Chapter Five
“I’m sorry. I beg your pardon, Mi – Elizabeth, I –”
“Do not worry,” I assured quietly. Mr. Darcy shifted again to his previous pose. The pressing of his arm against my body, however quick, had sent my heart into unseemly flurries. I only hoped he was not nearly as affected.
I turned to face him, wet rag in hand.
“Do your injuries hurt, sir?” I wiped each sore spot on his face again. Despite my every cry and protest, Arnold had persisted in his ill treatment of Mr. Darcy. Every punch, every slash from Bo’s unforgiving strikes cut my heart as it did his flesh. Even now, my eyes refused to dry completely.
“Your care helps – very much.” His drooping eyes smoldered still.
I sighed, heart tight. My eyes and hands flew to my lap.
While the note I had offered to write did indeed allay our captors’ fears of discovery – it had not sufficed in quelling their thirst for riches. Again and again, their leader questioned Mr. Darcy. Again and again, Mr. Darcy denied having any more notes or gold at hand.
The result of the inquisition was clear.
My companion’s stubbornness would prove his demise yet.
“Elizabeth,” he called gently. I lifted my eyes, wary and pained. His fingers brushed against then rested upon mine. “Are you well?”
How was a woman to answer that?
Tears escaped me rapidly, raining on his hands and mine. “Mr. Darcy! You – you have allowed yourself to be treated so poorly, to be harmed in every possible way – and yet you insist on caring for me? You baffle me, sir. Your concern is undeserved and wholly unwarranted. How am I to –”
“Hush, Elizabeth.” His words rang with difficulty. I paused to listen. “You are safe – that is enough.”
Floodgates of feelings – ravenous and confused – threatened to overflow within me. I huffed and sniffed. In the corner, the benefits of strong drink kept a burly Bo sedated. I doubted he heard a word we said. If I wasn’t certain that far more alert accomplices lurked the hallways, I would carry my companion out the front door now.
“Elizabe –”
“No, do not – do not call me with such tenderness.” I cleared my nose and spoke quickly. My hands turned to grip his – my palms to his palms. “I thought I had delayed him – that the note itself would lead to our deliverance. How was I to know I had but postponed your punishment? His torture of you, sir – I cannot bear it.”
He smiled weakly. I wished breakfast had come. He needed it – if not I.
“You are brave – and wise.” He smiled while he spoke, his voice a mere whisper above the screeching of his wounds. My eyes watered despite my every effort to withstand more tears. “Miss Lucas will save us.”
“Yes,” I agreed, shallow and coarse.
He nodded wordlessly, his eyes dropping closed. I knew he needed rest.
It was too bad that I needed him.
I sniffed again, true fear overcoming me for the first time since I was first thrust into this room the night before. Without our compliance, Arnold’s teasing had fast descended into violence.
Would our continued defiance lead to further consequences – consequences which I dared not imagine coming to pass?
“Wa – water,” Mr. Darcy mumbled, a moment hence. I responded quickly.
He gulped down the contents of the cup readily. I rejoiced that my own parched lips proved my ability to sacrifice for him – however minutely.
“Thank you.” He smiled weakly again when he quenched his thirst at last.
“Whatever I can do, sir – I shall do willingly.” I meant every word I uttered. There was no reason for me to mistrust him any longer. Any man professing such feelings and acting with such bravado could only be sincere.
“What was in the note?” he asked softly.
I looked, embarrassed, towards him. “I would rather not say, sir.”
“A secret?”
“No – no, merely – silliness.” I smiled a little, at last. “I – I referred to words from our child play, implying our troubles. I can only hope Charlotte understands.”
“Cloaked references – yes, that is wise.” He smiled at me – and I decided I had never met another man so handsome, wounded or not. “You are wonderful.”
“No, no – I am not. I allowed you to be injured. I –” My self-incriminations resumed.
He stopped me with a warm, firm grip on my arm. “You are wonderful – and I refuse to argue.”
My heart roared in approval. My mind fell fast against the former’s onslaught.
“Mr. Darcy, you cannot mean –”
“Marry me, please –” His eyes begged as much as his words did. I realized that we had never concluded that matter at all.
“I cannot see why you would want me,” I answered carefully. My fingers wrapped gently around his corresponding forearm. “I have caused you naught but harm, sir. I –”
“You are strong, kind, and brave,” he interrupted. His chest rose and fell before he continued. “No one holds a candle to your character.”
“I am – tolerable, I suppose,” I said without thought. My eyes stung.
The touch of his hand stiffened. I met his eyes.
His lips shook. His face was entirely pale. “You – that was you?”
It was my turn to wonder. “You did not know?”
“Bingley mentioned a sister – ah, yes, of course.” He sighed, bitterness clear. “Irony has never been my friend.”
It was not difficult at all, I found, in the short span of two heartbeats, to forgive him.
“Do not worry, sir,” I assured softly. “I shall not hold –”
“You are beautiful,” he said, free and direct. My traitorous heart lifted once more. “I was a fool for not noticing.”
I licked my lips, suddenly noticing our intimate proximity.
I gulped.
“Thank you,” I answered faintly.
“Then you do not object?” He said – happiness in his voice despite its airy quality.
The sound of footsteps ech
oed in the hall. In the corner, Bo began to stir.
I blinked quickly; I took one long, solitary breath.
“Yes, sir – of course. I – I do not object.”
He smiled again before he fell asleep.
• • •
The sting in my cheek roused me most uncomfortably. I felt a rush of wind beside it – nearly colliding with the inevitable swelling. A man taunted. A woman barked back.
I blinked many times to clear my vision – only to discover the touch that blurred my mind all the same.
Elizabeth’s arm was entwined with mine, her body pressed close towards me. I recalled the proposal I had dreamt. Would she accept in actuality?
“Yer time’s running’ out, dear.” The malice was unmistakable.
I glanced and glared at the man hovering above us.
“Arnold,” I growled. “Release us, now – and we shall not report you.”
His hoarse laughter offered little promise of an amicable resolution. I flinched when his knife lowered until it hovered by my face. A sleeping Elizabeth leaned closer still.
“Can’t afford another scar to yer pretty face, per’aps?” His sneer was unsettling. The long night had stolen away any manners he’d possessed. He was nearly cheerful yesterday morning; he was entirely sinister now.
“We don’t have any more money,” I insisted again – only to swallow forcefully when the knife’s edge pressed against my cheek. “Let us be. You have enough.”
“Enough for me ain’t enough for George, ‘nfortunely.” Arnold pulled back, frowning. He tossed his knife repeatedly in his hand as he paced the room.
“George?” I croaked.
“None o’ yer business, Mr. Bingley.” His eyes were fiery when he turned again.
I pondered tentatively if Charles had achieved some blunder to have unveiled our farce.
I liked to think he knew better.
Deception was abhorrent to me – but currently our only path to salvation.
“The neighbors will wonder,” I began my most recent campaign to bring our captor to sense.
“Perhaps they already do,” Elizabeth – now awake – added beside me.
I nodded, encouraged when the pacing stopped. “We can promise to attribute the damage to a domestic accident. You and your men may leave unscathed.”
Arnold’s eyes narrowed. He was thinking. I was hopeful.
“My husband is a man of his word,” Elizabeth spoke beside me. My heart clenched at her casual reference to my false identity. The edge of her body pressed against my arm. I fought hard to remain unaffected. “We promise we shall not tell.”
“But where is the money?” Arnold thundered, marching towards us menacingly. I found comfort in Elizabeth’s presence.
“There’s no more money, sir.” She was unfazed. “My husband has shown you where he keeps it – and you have collected it all.”
“That is not all! George said there was more!”
“Whoever your accomplice or master may be – he is misinformed,” she insisted.
Arnold glared at me. I experienced, with startling clarity, a pang of fear at the weapons he wielded.
“There’s more.” His voice was calm, threateningly so. His eyes leveled with mine. “You ‘ave until tomorrow to share it – ‘fore your wife pays yer price.”
He stormed out the room, leaving us alone at last.
It took three gentle nudges from Elizabeth to direct my eyes to the bowl of porridge on the floor.
• • •
“Oh, wait, just a bit there.” I rushed to wipe his mouth with my sleeve. All sense of propriety had long gathered itself, departed for the coast, and drowned itself in the ocean. His hands were indisposed; his stomach growled. The least I could do was to assist him with whatever little food we were given.
“Thank you – Elizabeth.” He smiled weakly after swallowing the last spoonful of porridge.
If he hadn’t insisted that I eat as well, I would not have tasted any of the bowl’s lukewarm content. The taste was bland, the texture horrendous. The only palatable thing had been the odd excitement of sharing one spoon with Mr. Darcy. At least, now, we had minimal strength.
“You gave me too much.” He protested even after all the food was gone.
I smirked as I lowered the empty bowl onto the floor. There was comfort in controlling such a powerful man – however loosely.
“I do not starve yet,” I assured before meeting his eyes again.
His face was rendered completely uneven by the swelling beneath his left eye. His lip sported remnants of dry blood.
He had never looked handsomer.
“You spoil me.” He smiled despite a clear lack of strength and air.
I pressed my hand on his hand, taking care to avoid endangering any scratches. “You earned it.”
“I earned nothing.” His eyelids began to fall even as he spoke. “Providence gave you to me.”
His words stirred an awakening. I’d rather not inspect what it entailed.
“Sleep, sir.” I reached out to soothe his brow. Our circumstances had produced an odd sort of physical familiarity. It was almost as if the suddenness of our charade as husband and wife induced us to intentionally prove our act at every opportunity. I frankly did not know what society would say.
I comforted myself that society did not know – did not know of our unchaperoned state or any of our many touches at all.
The fact that his tenderness was only for me to see fueled further the awakening I fought hard to ignore.
“You must rest – too,” he whispered, eyes half-closed. His fingers brushed against my palm. His face, angry this morning, was all innocence now.
“It is not yet night, sir,” I reminded gently. “I can stay awake yet.”
He laughed softly. My heart responded with shocking alacrity.
“I forget the days and nights here,” he said, eyes hollow. “I worry.”
“Do not worry, sir,” I clasped his hands more tightly and inched instinctively closer to his reclining form. “Charlotte shall deliver.”
“Miss Lucas – yes.” His smile wavered between sleepy and fazed. He rolled his head from side to side, until his eyes rested fully on me. “But she is not you.”
My cheeks warmed of their own accord. I looked down – only to look up sharply when I felt fingertips on my face.
“Thank you – Elizabeth.”
“I don’t deserve –”
“You do – every single bit of it.” His hand rested fully on my face now. My eyes began to mist.
I barely noticed that he had not specified what he believed I deserved.
“Mr. Darcy –”
He pressed his lips to mine.
I found I could not speak – nor pull away.
Chapter Six
My hands, raw and sore, still bore full evidence of my clumsy descent in the early hours today. The morning dew, still and serene before, dripped now in beads of perspiration. My heart thumped wildly as I ran, my feet barely acquainted with Netherfield’s unfamiliar grounds.
I paused when the voices began, hand perched on a tree trunk as I panted. My morning escape had required the removal of all clothing save my shirtsleeves and breeches. Neither sufficed in warding off the morning chill.
“Are you certain, Miss Lucas?” The male voice that permeated the trees was full of disbelief.
I frowned, listening.
“Elizabeth’s note left no room for doubt,” the woman – most certainly Miss Lucas – insisted.
“The note has given no cause for alarm.”
“It has. Elizabeth was merely acting with wisdom. The reference was clear that –”
“Miss Lucas, the town has no time for female fancy!”
To hear the fairer sex so disparaged was enough to spur me through the last wooded barriers between me and company.
“I am certain –” Miss Lucas continued, “without a sliver of doubt that I – Mr. Bingley!”
All eyes – from each o
f the five people assembled – turned firmly upon me.
I placed my hands on my hips, panting still. “Hi – dear – neighbors.”
My limited strength mustered only a weak smile. I remembered Miss Lucas from the assembly, and inferred quickly that her mother accompanied her now, as did her sister, her neighbor, and the neighbor’s daughter.
“The robbers – have taken over.” It pained me to admit my failure as a host, but my mission had always remained clear. “They hold captive my sisters, Mr. Hurst, Mr. Darcy, Miss Elizabeth – and Jane.”
The raised eyebrow from Lady Lucas affirmed that my allusion had been clear.
If I was compelled to be the most alert in my entire life – it would prove helpful if the neighbors did just as much.
“Mr. Bingley, did you escape?”
My eyes took their time before resting on Miss Lucas’ worried face.
I swallowed, hungry. “I lowered myself with sheets.”
“From a high window?” Lady Lucas was unimpressed.
“Yes.” I frowned. “There was no other way.”
“And how are they?” Miss Lucas spoke again. Her voice was tense, with a slight tremor.
I looked slowly from her mother back to her.
My own voice was small, pained. “Upon my departure, all my guests were unharmed.”
The company nodded solemnly. I found solace in their understanding.
“Shall we need to interfere?” The man who argued before now stepped closer.
I eyed him openly. “It would be best to harness the town’s help. We do not know with whom the robbers conspire.”
The man nodded solemnly.
“Mr. Philips,” Miss Lucas asked before I could, “shall we not call Mr. Robinson and his men? I am certain our men shall prevail with adequate numbers.”
I looked hopefully towards the hefty man.
Mr. Philips nodded and frowned all at once. “Are there many of them?”
“Three – I believe,” I answered surely. “No signs of further accomplices have emerged.”
He nodded back. “And if we damage the property, sir?”
“I shall take full responsibility. I guarantee full absolution for any harm inadvertently done to the estate.”