The Curse of Land's End

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by Rose Lorimer


  Silence followed, and the only sound in the room was my ragged breathing.

  It took me some time to master my shaken body and loosen my grip on the pan as thousands of thoughts crossed my mind. But as much as I tried to control the pounding in my chest, those deadly words reverberated in my memory “… she will die a slow, painful death… and you will see it all.”

  Elizabeth!

  Putting the pan on the floor, I turned, approaching her bed.

  “No…” It could not be happening again! Her bed was empty! Had that creature taken her? I had locked the door! “Elizabeth?” I cried, pulling the sheets and blankets.

  I saw something under the bed. I fell on my knees, and there she was, hidden, her irregular breathing reaching my ears. Relief flooded over me as I pulled her out and into my desperate embrace. “God, Elizabeth! I thought… that thing had taken you from me! Oh, my love! Are you hurt?” I asked caressing her feverish face, seeking for any sign of mistreatment.

  “Forgive me…” she said between breathless sobs. “I heard steps… but I could not… run.”

  I rested my head on the top of hers. All that mattered was that she was safe.

  Safe but not well.

  My brief relief turned into concern again. I checked my watch. Two hours until sunrise.

  Still sitting on the floor, I leaned against the bed and kissed her burning head. How could we fight such evil if it really wanted us dead? I closed my eyes in despair.

  We could not leave that place, not when it was still dark; something I could not explain was lurking outside our door; Elizabeth was languishing before my eyes and there was nothing I could do to prevent it.

  “Please, Lord. Help me. I do not know what to do,” I whispered, tightening my embrace. “Please.”

  I inhaled and exhaled several times before making up my mind.

  If we were to die, so be it. But while I had a breath of life in me, I would fight for her life until we could get back to Bingley’s house. I must believe we could return. Faith was all that was left to me. What the future would bring was beyond my control. But what was in my reach, I would do. I would take care of her.

  “Take courage, Elizabeth. Soon it will be dawn, and when the first light reaches us, we will leave this forsaken place and find our way back. I promise you. I will take us back.” I took her in my arms and gently put her back on the bed, fetching the sheets and blankets I had shoved on the floor and covering her.

  Thankfully, I had not spilled the water.

  The next two hours were agonising as I kept my vigil, wetting her head, neck, chest and arms, trying to keep her fever from rising to a dangerous level. At least for this the bitter cold was helpful.

  When the first rays of light reached our bedroom, my weary body collapsed beside her, my eyelids insisting on closing. I allowed myself some rest. It would not do to collapse on our way back.

  The challenge was not over yet. As grateful as I was for surviving such a night, we needed to go back to the house.

  When dawn fully broke the murkiness of that new day, I raised my battered body and went to the door, peeking down both sides of the corridor, searching for any sign of another presence. Nothing. With one step after another, I went downstairs and checked the drawing room and entrance door. At daylight, it was as if last night had been nothing more than a bad dream.

  I returned to the bedroom divided by relief at being able to leave and concern over Elizabeth’s precarious condition. Despite my best efforts, her fever had not broken.

  I put aside the dreadful memory of that monster’s words and kept my focus on leaving the house.

  Once I had gathered what seemed enough for our uncertain return, I sat beside her. She had been unconscious for some time now.

  How am I supposed to take her back like this?

  After some minutes of painful considerations, an idea finally came to mind, and I began looking for things to bring it into reality.

  Absorbed in my hard work, another hour passed. Now that some pieces from the bed and some more blankets and sheets were crafted together, something similar to a stretcher appeared. I remembered Richard mentioning its use during times of war when soldiers used it to recover the wounded from the battlefield.

  And that was what I was going to do.

  I only hoped it would work.

  I took everything downstairs before returning for Elizabeth. Gathering all my remaining strength, I took my precious cargo in my arms and headed downstairs. Her eyes, usually so full of life and wit, were semi-closed; her struggle to breathe challenging my sanity.

  I took my eyes from her, concentrating on my steps.

  Reaching the entrance and accommodating her on the stretcher, I covered her with blankets. I knelt down beside her and brought her warm hand to my face. Stubborn tears found their way down my face. “I promise I shall do everything I can to save you.” I kissed her hand, tied the improvised strips and moved out of the house, dragging her stretcher after me.

  The cold wind hit my face as I stepped outside. The weather was cloudy and cold, but in a way I was thankful for it. It could help keep Elizabeth’s fever under control.

  A challenging journey began. How far away we were or how long it would take, I had no idea. For now, I was just happy to leave that forsaken house.

  After conquering the most difficult and uneven ground, we finally reached a road. I checked to see if the fabric beneath Elizabeth had been torn. I sighed, relieved. Despite some scratches, the stretcher was holding tight together.

  Another hour passed before I had my first glimpse of a coming carriage. I never thought I would be so happy to see an old smelly horse pulling a carriage in my life. I waved and asked the man to stop, throwing myself in his way when I noticed his hesitation. Suddenly, I realized the oddity of our circumstances.

  “Sorry sir, but we need help. We had an accident at Land’s End—”

  “Away from me, yer dammed wretch!” the man shouted, adding some other oaths and swearings, hitting his horse with his whip, forcing the poor beast into motion again, faster this time, almost running over me in the process.

  In despair, I shouted after him, offering money, gold, everything I possessed. But he did not stop.

  The fading sound of the horse’s hooves was the last nail in the coffin of my hope.

  I collapsed to my knees, weary to my bones, shouting in frustration. For the first time since that bloody fall, I wondered if it would not have been better to have died there.

  I crawled towards Elizabeth and lay down on the cold ground beside her, desperate with the sight of her feverish, still body.

  I could not continue.

  I took her hand and closed my eyes, the hope I had kept throughout the night up to that moment vanishing as steam in the cold wind.

  Chapter 20

  Darcy

  Horses’ hooves on the ground and men shouting orders breached my fogged mind, but as much as I willed my eyelids to open, they seemed too heavy to comply.

  Has that blasted man regretted leaving us behind?

  “Darcy!” a commanding voice boomed into my brain. I felt hands groping my neck. “Thank God! He is alive!” A pair of strong hands shook me. “Darcy. Darcy!”

  Employing a Herculean struggle, my eyes finally opened and a man’s face appeared before me. By the fierce frown set between his eyebrows, it could be no one else.

  Richard…

  I glanced beside me, seeing Elizabeth’s form being lifted by two other men I knew from Bingley’s house. With no strength left, I closed my eyes again.

  More shouts. I felt my body also being lifted, and placed in a cosy place. Something soft was wrapped around me as a flask was forced into my mouth, the taste of whiskey burning its way down my throat. Warmth spread through my tired body as I surrendered to the comforting rhythm of trotting horses. As my limbs relaxed, feeling the flow of blood returning, I finally opened my eyes again. I was not by the side of that cold road, but inside a carriage. Through the wi
ndow, I saw the two men riding their horses beside us.

  “Heavens, Darcy,” Richard said squeezing my shoulders. Then, faster than I could focus my eyes on him, he was shouting at me. “Bloody hell, Darcy! What happened to you? You scared the hell out of us! Do you have any idea what you put us through?”

  I frowned at his outburst. Was he happy to find me or not? I gave up thinking. I did not have the energy for it, so I just enjoyed the comfort of the moment.

  He let go of my shoulder, as the flood of insults ceased.

  “And Elizabeth?” I mumbled.

  “I am taking care of her.” He tilted his head to the opposite seat. Her still form lay there, wrapped in blankets. “Now that I know you are well, you can rest. We need to have a long conversation. Gather your strength for that.”

  Ignoring Richard’s expected threatening and protests, I knelt down in the space between the two seats, and caressed her flushed face, exhaling loudly. “You are safe now.”

  “Come on, Darcy. Rest now.” Surrendering to Richard’s gentle pull to help me sit up again, I closed my eyes and, grateful for the warm blanket around me, I succumbed to a more than deserved slumber.

  ***

  The smell of fresh clean linen filled my nostrils and before any other impression could reach my senses, I knew I was safe, back at Bingley’s house. I took a deep breath of relief. When I opened my eyes, I saw Richard’s face again. At least this time he was not swearing.

  “Ah! At last, Darcy. How are you feeling? I was beside myself already! Good heavens, man, you gave us a fright!’

  I knew Richard was as worried as I would be in his place. I could well understand his anxiety.

  “I am feeling much better now, Richard. Thank you.”

  My stomach rumbled and he looked at me amused. “You must be starving.”

  “I cannot deny it now. What time is it?” By the darkness settled outside, I guessed it must be late.

  “Unfortunately for you, it is past dinner time.”

  I sighed, sitting up, stretching my aching arms and back. “How long have I been in bed?”

  “Almost two days. We found you yesterday, around noon.”

  I paused surprised. I knew I was feeling stiff, but two days?

  “You were in a bad shape, Darcy, swinging from completely unresponsive to extremely agitated. As the doctor examined your injuries, you kept saying strange things — something about ghosts and that Miss Elizabeth would die. The doctor reacted in a strange way to what you were saying, but concluded you must have experienced something frightful and gave you a draught to sleep emphasising we should keep an eye on you.”

  I nodded, wondering how much I had revealed in my sleepy state. “I need to see Elizabeth. Is she well?” I asked, standing up. The whole room began to spin, and I stumbled.

  “Hold your horses, Darcy,” Richard said, supporting me before I could fall. “Once thing at a time. Like you, she has many injuries and a nasty gash in her leg. She was still feverish last I inquired. But do not worry. Mrs Bingley and Mrs Nancarrow are taking care of her.”

  He rang the bell. When the servant came, he asked her to bring me some food. He turned rubbing his hands. “Now to the facts—”

  “Thank you, for finding us, Richard,” I interrupted, knowing where he was going. “But before I can eat, or even tell you anything, I need to see Elizabeth. Please.”

  Richard looked at me and after some hesitation, he nodded. “Fine. But we cannot be long.” He helped me to stand up and went to fetch me some fresh clothes. Now undressed, I saw many bandages on different parts of my body.

  Once I was presentable again, we went to Elizabeth’s bedroom.

  Mrs Bingley opened the door. Gone were her spontaneous smile and easy countenance. Instead, dark circles surrounded her red eyes. Her sombre expression softened when she saw me. “Mr Darcy! Thank God! I am so happy to see you on your feet again. Can I help you with anything?”

  “Mrs Bingley,” Richard answered instead, “Darcy here will not give me a minute of peace or even eat until he can see Miss Bennet. I promise we will not be long.”

  She looked at me and her shoulders seemed to relax. “I am happy you came, sir. Lizzy has been agitated… asking for you.”

  I felt Richard’s eyes burning my back as I entered the room and sat in the chair beside Elizabeth’s bed. “How is she?” I asked looking down at her, and for the first time able to see every scratch on her face. Her lustrous and fiery hair was now wet and sooty, and a damp piece of cloth was resting on her forehead.

  “I cannot say for sure. This fever is so strong… She was awake a few moments before you knocked. I think it would be good if you could talk to her, Mr Darcy. I believe she needs to know you are well.”

  I nodded and took Elizabeth’s hand. Still too warm. “Oh, my dearest. What is happening to you?” I whispered, caressing her face, and forgetting everything around me. Her breathing was still difficult, fast and irregular. The sight shattered my heart beyond words. I brought her hand to my lips and kissed it, leaning my forehead over it. “Elizabeth, talk to me, please…”

  She moved and mumbled something, her heavy eyelids opening. Her emerald gaze rested on me, a weak smile contrasting with her strained face. “William… you are here…”

  “I am, my love. I would never abandon you,” I said, kissing her hand again. “How are you feeling?”

  Barely keeping her eyes opened she whispered, “I am happy… to see you…” her words faltering by intakes of breath.

  With my eyes blinded by moisture, I leaned down and kissed her head. “I am happy to see you too. But I must leave now. You need your rest. I will come back to see you soon. I promise. I love you.”

  She smiled and nodded, closing her eyes again. “Me too,” she whispered back. I rubbed her cheek, and stood up as tears found their way out of my eyes.

  I dried my face and turned, Richard and Mrs Bingley’s faces the perfect picture of confusion.

  Predicting their questions and concerns, I just said, “We need to talk.”

  ***

  As I ate something, Richard told me how Miss Wiley had become hysterical with our disappearance, begging Bingley to send her back home immediately. She started her return the following morning accompanied by Mr Bennet’s unwilling footman, Owen. Despite Owen and Mrs Bingley’s struggles to convince her otherwise, Miss Wiley was unrelenting.

  I cannot say it surprised me.

  About half an hour later, Richard and I met Bingley in the library.

  “Darcy,” Bingley said, coming and hugging me, “we were sick to death! Richard came back only when it was too dark to keep looking for you two. Miss Wiley was in a state — good God! — beyond any comprehension. Hysterical! And the whole house fell into an uproar! Even my business seemed to be conspiring against us!” His wife entered the room with a tray containing brandy, tea and some biscuits. He served me a generous portion of the French medicine, then added. “What happened, old friend?”

  I took a big gulp and went to the window, waiting until its calming effect could spread throughout my body before starting my story.

  “Well,” Richard said impatiently, drumming his fingers on his armchair.

  I turned and faced my audience, then looked down to my glass. “I must beg you all to forgive me, but I am not sure how to start or… even what to say. What I am about to relate to you is so difficult even I cannot understand it, much less, believe it. The events that took place since I last saw you all are much beyond anything I could ever imagine. So I ask you to listen to me, and, if possible, just interrupt if necessary. I need to tell you all the facts as I remember them, fresh, before they get lost in my own impressions and imagination.”

  “Good Lord, Darcy! You are scaring us. What happened?” Richard burst out.

  I turned to the window again. The night outside was so quiet. No wind, just the distant sound of the waves.

  So different from my own inner storm.

  I took another sip from my brandy a
nd faced them once more.

  “As you know, Elizabeth and I went to see Land’s End, but in our way we… had an argument. After we exchanged harsh words, we had a huge misunderstanding and she… well, she ran away from me. I went after her…”

  I looked at my friends and, with no little concern for my reputation, I told them my incredible story and all the events of last night—our fall, our newly discovered love and engagement, our dreadful experience in the mine and at the house, the noises, the sight of that horrible creature, my struggles on the following day to leave the house and the relieving sight of Richard’s face as we headed back to the house. As I asked, they did not interrupt me, holding back their pertinent questions to the end. Apart from my voice, only their gasps and interjections of horror — and disbelief — could be heard in the room.

  After I finished, there were questions about the creature and its menacing words, but despite my best efforts, their faces showed nothing more than great perplexity. I could almost hear the cogs working in their heads, considering, pondering on every detail of my story, deciding whether they could trust me — if I was still master of my senses or had gone completely mad.

  I could not blame them. If I were in their places, I would be having the same trouble believing this tale. As it was, I could just wait and see which one of them would be the first to discredit me.

  Richard, as if reading my thoughts, stood up and approached me, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Darcy, you know I would trust my life to you, but I hope you can understand how… difficult it is to believe everything you just said.”

  I lowered my gaze. “I do. And I understand. I blame none of you for doubting the veracity of my words. I hit my head, and was unconscious for some time — minutes, hours, God knows — but I can assure you, I was master of all my senses when we heard that sound and when…” I shivered, “when I saw that thing. I confess I do not have the answers for your questions, but for now, my priority is for Elizabeth’s recovery, and… for her reputation.” I turned to Bingley and his wife. “I would like to have your approval to marry Elizabeth and, due to the circumstances, as soon as possible. I will also send a letter to Mr Bennet and ask for his blessing.”

 

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