Darcy rose to his feet at once and strode to the window. “I wish he would get on with it,” he snapped. “I am tired of waiting for what comes next. At least if I had written to Fitzwilliam, his response would mean something is happening.”
Elizabeth sighed and stretched onto her back. “I know,” she said. “I have tried to persuade him, but he will not have it. I think he is out of his depth and does not know how to correct it.”
Before she could say more, Darcy turned towards the door at once, putting a warning finger to his lips. Elizabeth sat up at once, following his gaze. The door opened. Harper stood on the other side. His eyes moved to Elizabeth, who felt disturbingly exposed on the bed. She stood up. Harper looked at Darcy, who had moved to place himself between him and Elizabeth. He drew out a pistol. Elizabeth’s hands flew to her mouth while Darcy went still.
“You’re wanted,” he said shortly. He waved the gun towards the door, his eyes fixed on Darcy.
Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged startled looks. This was the first time Darcy had been taken from the room without Elizabeth. Elizabeth felt a sudden chill. She recognised something of the fear Darcy must have felt every time she was taken away. Images of Darcy being hurt or worse and her none the wiser danced through her mind. They might do anything to him, and she would not know.
“Why is he wanted?” she demanded.
Harper shrugged, his eyes lingering on her in that way she despised. “Get on with it. I don’t have all day.”
Elizabeth hurried towards Darcy, and this time, it was he who reassured her.
“They will not hurt me,” he whispered, his lips close to her ear, tickling her skin. “I will not allow it. And they can earn a lot of money from me.”
“Darcy—“
“I will return as soon as I can.”
Elizabeth was so frightened she could barely speak. All she could do was nod. Darcy pulled her into his arms, then released her and crossed the room quickly. Elizabeth could do nothing but watch as the door closed behind him and the key turned in the lock.
How did Darcy endure this every day? Elizabeth paced the room, her nails digging into the palms of her hands. What was he doing right now? Why did they need him? They had never done this before. What had changed? Elizabeth slumped with her back against the wall, hearing nothing but the faint scratching of rats on the other side. She lay her head against it, drumming her palms against it, half-listening to the rat scratching on the other side. When would Darcy return? No wonder he did not sleep when she was away. She could no more imagine finding rest now than she could imagine escaping this dreadful place.
The sky was almost dark when she heard footsteps approaching. Elizabeth ran to the door, and Darcy barely had time to enter the room before Elizabeth had hurled herself into his arms, tightening her arms around his neck.
“Is this not touching,” Lawson said in a drawling voice. “You can desist from squeezing him, my dear Miss Bennet. I have not harmed him. Although I suppose it would be more accurate now to call you my dear Mrs Darcy.”
Elizabeth was so distracted by looking over Darcy and reassuring herself he had taken no harm, it took a few moments for Lawson’s words to enter her mind.
“I beg your pardon?”
Lawson smirked and bowed. “I will leave you to explain to your wife.” He pulled the door behind him.
Darcy took Elizabeth by the hand and led her to the bed.
“What does he mean?” Elizabeth demanded as he sat beside her.
“I have written to Fitzwilliam, and they will send the letter at once,” said Darcy. “It is a relief. Our safety is assured while they wait for an answer.”
“But why does he say I am your wife?”
Darcy grimaced. “Because he has me say that we ran away together to be married. I had to ask Fitzwilliam to send funds from my agent and gave him the seal that would allow him to retrieve the money. I had to tell him we have gone on an extended trip and would return to explain everything to our families. I could not give away our destination because they had an accomplice there who could read and would check what I had written.”
“Oh my God,” said Elizabeth.
“The money is to be sent to a town close to here, where I am to give Lawson my ring that he might have access to it. Lawson assured me they would release us then.”
“Do you think he will?”
“I do not know. And I do not intend to take his word for it.” Darcy paused, then took her hand. “Elizabeth, I have been thinking the matter over. Next time you are at liberty and see an opportunity to leave, you are to take it. Leave and do not look back. I do not think they will go after you. I am the real threat.”
Elizabeth stared at him incredulously. “That is out of the question.”
“You must see reason—“
“No, you must see reason. What a thing to ask me. Do you really think I will leave you here behind? To have anything happen to you? How do you think I could do it?”
Darcy shook his head. “It will ensure your safety, and that is all I care about.”
“And what I care about does not matter, does it not? How would you feel if you were the one to leave, and I was the one to remain behind? Could you do it?”
Darcy’s eyes darkened. “Of course not. The very idea is abhorrent.”
“Then why do you suppose the idea is less abhorrent to me?”
“Because that is different. My feelings are — you do not —“
Elizabeth stared down at him. “I do not what?”
“It does not matter.”
They stared at one another, both their eyes flashing with emotion. Finally, Elizabeth sat down again.
“It is out of the question,” she said again. “I am not leaving you. That is the end of the matter.”
“Fine.” Darcy fell silent, but Elizabeth knew she had not convinced him. He would raise the subject again when he could. It would do him no good. She was not about to leave him behind. How could she live with herself if she did?
That night, Elizabeth convinced Darcy to sleep in the bed. She placed some spare pillows between them as a nod towards modesty, though it would not stand up if anyone in society knew of it. Still, she rested easier knowing he was beside her and would be refreshed in the morning.
13
By morning, Elizabeth woke to find the pillows had been moved during the night, and though she and Darcy did not quite sleep in one another’s arms, she was nestled by his side, and his head was turned towards her, his hand stretched out as though reaching for her in his sleep.
Elizabeth eased onto one elbow and gazed down at him. Her heart gave a strange lurch. He looked so peaceful, in a way she had never seen him before, not even before they had been taken. How odd that such an imposing man could look so boyish in rest. A perverse thought arose in her mind: though their situation was vile, she felt a strange happiness at having Darcy by her side. She would never confess to being anything less than horrified if anyone asked. Still, a part of her felt almost sorry at the idea that once this was all over — and it would be over — that she and Darcy would return to their lives, nothing more than aloof and indifferent strangers.
No, that would not happen. Darcy’s cousin would receive a note claiming they were already married. There was no way he would keep news like that to himself. By the time they were free, everyone would know of it, and she and Darcy would have no option but to make it official. He would be her husband.
What kind of marriage would they have? A droll part of her mind acknowledged that they would at least have a more exciting story to tell their grandchildren than most people. Perhaps, even if Darcy never loved her, the sharing of such a unique experience would still form a bond between them and allow them a sense of unity and intimacy that, even if it were not love on his part, would be something that would suffice.
“You are staring at me,” said Darcy, his voice deep with sleepiness.
Elizabeth stared at him aghast and moved away to sit up.
“I just wondered if you were awake,” she said quickly, grateful his eyes were still closed so he could not see how her face burned with embarrassment.
Darcy smiled, his eyes still closed. “It took you a long time to figure it out,” he said.
“Oh, stop it,” said Elizabeth. “Do not flatter yourself. But can I take it from this jocular mood that you achieved a full night’s sleep at last?”
Darcy yawned and stretched, his shirt rising a little from the waist of his trousers. Elizabeth found it hard not to stare, and she averted her eyes before he could notice.
“I cannot recall a time I slept so well.”
Neither could Elizabeth. How strange. They should not be able to sleep at all, and yet neither of them had slept better.
Darcy sat up, running his hands through his tumbled hair. A beard had sprouted from his jaw in recent days. Elizabeth had rarely seen any man who was not clean-shaven, and she could not help looking at it with fascination. It gave him a ne’er-do-well look that suited him. He looked like a romantic young girl’s idea of a pirate or a highwayman.
Darcy looked down at the pillows that had started the night between them and now lay tossed around the bed. He did not comment on them.
Elizabeth climbed out of bed and walked to the window, combing her fingers through her hair as she heard Darcy splash his face in the basin of water on the table. How many days since Lawson had taken them? It was difficult to keep track.
Harper came after breakfast to take Elizabeth downstairs.
“Now you know what this is like for me,” Darcy murmured to her before she left. Elizabeth touched his arm.
“I will return soon.”
“See that you do, or I shall run mad.”
Elizabeth smiled. “You shall be the beast that haunts the castle. Every ancient dwelling needs one.”
Darcy smiled slightly, but his eyes were still worried. “I am serious, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth pressed his hand, and he turned it over to catch hers in his.
“I will be back soon,” she said again. She hurried from the room before Harper could produce his pistol again.
The days spent in one another’s company had done nothing to change Elizabeth’s mind about Harper. He rarely attempted to speak with her, but more than once, she had turned around to see him standing there watching her without saying a word. Even now, he walked behind her instead of at her side, as Lawson always did. She glanced over her shoulder to see him a step or two behind her, a glint in his eyes that made her flesh crawl. Elizabeth turned away and walked quickly, feeling relieved only when she arrived in the kitchen and saw Lawson there, smoking as usual. How odd that she should see him as a refuge.
“Mrs Darcy,” said Lawson in a jovial tone. “Good morning to you. I am afraid I have no other wedding gift to offer you except for more dishes to be washed. I cannot even tell you it will be practice for your later life. I doubt Mrs Darcy will ever need to lift a finger again, so enjoy it while you can, eh? They say hard work is character-forming.”
“And you would know?” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, and Lawson burst out laughing.
“You are a tonic on these dull November days, my dear. We shall be sorry to lose you. I cannot stay, I am afraid. I only stayed to glimpse your bonny face before I leave on some important business.”
Elizabeth knew he expected her to ask, but she did not respond.
When Lawson finally left, Elizabeth filled the tub with water, keeping her head down to avoid Harper. He did not speak for a while, and she was grateful. Perhaps he paid no attention to her.
But when she glanced at him from under her lashes, he watched her as always.
“You do not speak to me as freely as you do the others,” he said. “Why is that?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “You are often silent. It does not invite conversation.”
“You wish me to invite conversation with you?”
“I did not say that.”
“Then you do not wish it.”
Elizabeth dried her hands and did not respond.
Harper stood up and walked towards her. He remained by her side, not touching her but much too close for comfort.
“I do not like being treated differently,” he said in a low voice. “Especially not by the likes of you.”
“I am sure I do not know what you mean,” said Elizabeth coolly, though her heart pounded.
“I think you know. I think girls like you like to fawn over some men while singling others out for neglect. I think it makes you feel powerful. Is that not so? You think you can ignore some men to make them dance to your tune, and you expect them to tolerate it.”
“I do no such thing. I speak to those who converse with me. If someone does not, I assume they wish to be left alone, so I respect that.”
Harper took a step closer.
“What would you know of respect?”
A crash from outside interrupted them before Elizabeth could answer. Elizabeth’s heart pounded, though she was grateful for the distraction. Harper had moved much too close for comfort, and his words had grown increasingly angry.
Harper hurried to the door and looked outside. He picked up an old sculpture that had stood on a table and looked around to see how it might have fallen. Cursing, he dropped it, causing it to smash against the stone floor. With a final long look at Elizabeth, he strode from the room.
Elizabeth sagged against the tub with relief. In all the time she had been here, that has felt like the first time she might have been in real danger. She had never had such an encounter, but her aunt in London had warned her about resentful men who felt they were slighted by women, claiming they were some of the most dangerous men of all. Thank God he had left.
To reassure herself he really was gone, Elizabeth walked to the kitchen door and looked outside. To her relief, there was no one there. She was about to return to the kitchen when she saw a small face look at her from behind the door of what might have once been the housekeeper’s closet, just as the door swung closed. Taking another look around to make sure she was alone, Elizabeth slipped from the kitchen and hurried towards the closet. She knocked gently on the door.
“Might I come in?” she asked. “Please. I would like to make your acquaintance.”
For a moment, Elizabeth thought she would not get an answer. Then the door opened slowly, and she nudged it the rest of the way.
A small elderly woman stood before her, blinking up at her. She smiled a little shyly.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I am —“ Elizabeth hesitated. What should she tell her? “My name is Elizabeth Bennet. I have stayed here for a few days. What is your name?”
“I am Margaret Rycroft. Have you seen John? He went out, but he did not come to see me this morning. I think he forgot me.”
“I am sure he didn’t. Is John your grandson?”
The lady’s eyes brightened as she nodded. “Yes. He is handsome, is he not? Just like his grandfather.” She sighed and leaned towards Elizabeth. “He is like his other grandfather in character, I am afraid. Gets himself in trouble.” She nodded sagely.
Elizabeth hardly knew how to respond to that. “Does he sometimes bring other people to stay here? People like me, I mean?”
“He sometimes brings lady friends. I do not care for them so much. I wish he would find a nice girl to marry.” Her face brightened. “Perhaps he will marry you?”
“I do not know about that,” said Elizabeth with a smile. “There is a chance I must marry another man.”
“Is he handsome?”
“Very. Do you live here?”
“I grew up here. I came back when my husband died. You are in my room.”
Elizabeth blinked. “I beg your pardon. I did not know.”
“I don’t mind. I don’t sleep there anymore, but it was mine when I was a girl.” Her face creased into a mischievous smile. “I had so much fun getting in and out. No one knew how I did it.”
“I am sure they did not.”
/>
Elizabeth could not help warming to the elderly woman. There was just that touch of childishness in her nature that reminded her of her mother’s mother, who had died when Elizabeth was eleven, but Mrs Rycroft seemed sharper than her grandmother had been. “Do you know where Lawson — I mean, John goes when he leaves the house?”
“I do not. He tells me nothing.” Her face darkened. “I wish he would bring that other one with him.”
“Which one? Harper?”
Mrs Rycroft nodded. “I cannot abide him. He reminds me of a groom we once had. Papa had to dismiss him.” She shuddered. “But John does not listen to me.”
“I hope he takes good care of you and is kind to you,” said Elizabeth with concern.
“He is very kind to me. I could not ask for a better grandson. But he does not listen to me when I talk about his friends. I think you are a nicer friend.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I am delighted to meet you, Mrs Rycroft. It is good to know there is another woman in the house.”
“I knew you were here,” said Mrs Rycroft proudly. “I heard you pace about my room. I did the same when I thought James would not come. But he did, and he stayed here until we married, and we had many wonderful years together.” There was a faraway look in her eyes that made Elizabeth suspect she had drifted into the past where she was young and in love.
Elizabeth cleared her throat. “I wonder if you can help me, Mrs Rycroft. I have misplaced the key to my room. Do you know where I can find it? Or perhaps a copy?”
“Oh, no, dear. Only John would have that. I am sure he will help you find it if you tell him.”
Elizabeth looked at the sweet-faced older woman, and for a moment, she considered telling her of her plight. But would she believe the truth of her beloved grandson? She paused as she considered how to approach the subject.
“May I get you anything, Mrs Rycroft? Is there anything you need?” she asked her.
Mrs Rycroft’s eyes sharpened as if for a moment she had forgotten Elizabeth was there.
“You must leave,” she said with sudden urgency. “My grandson cannot know we have spoken. He will be cross.”
Rescuing Elizabeth Bennet: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 8