by Brenda Webb
“Take your assigned positions, and may God be with you.”
~~~*~~~
Inside Stillwater Manor
George Wickham sat at the old kitchen table sipping a cup of watery tea and cursing the fact that all the brandy had been consumed. He now deeply regretted having ever met Darcy’s wife or having brought her into his plan to capture Elizabeth Bennet.
The sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever he thought of how enraged Darcy would be if Miss Bennet died, rushed back full force, and he almost lost the contents of his stomach.
I want what Darcy owes me, but I do not want him trailing me to my grave to exact retribution. I hope Gisela will listen to me and leave the woman alone—at least until Darcy comes to collect her. By then, I should be miles away with the ransom in hand. Damn the woman! What a mess she has made of a simple kidnapping.
Suddenly the sound of a door being battered caught his attention, and he drew his pistol as he stood to investigate. Foolish hoyden, what is she up to now? Gisela is going to do something stupid. I just know it.
Clearing the kitchen door and beginning across the foyer, he stopped when the barrel of a gun was pressed into his side. Turning his head in that direction, he squinted, trying to make out the face of the one holding the weapon. That was impossible with the faint light provided by the lone candle in the room.
“Just you be standing still, your lordship!” Grimsby warned, chuckling as he brought the cold steel up to Wickham’s neck. Wickham stiffened at the sound of his voice and it cheered Grimsby. “Yes, it’s me, gov’ner! The one what was supposed to be killed, only the Mistress didn’t have it in ‘er to carry out yer orders. Now, lay yer pistol on the floor and kick it away.”
Wickham shivered at the realisation that Gisela had betrayed him over a murderer, but did as he was told. His jumbled thoughts were quickly replaced by fear as she walked out of the room where Elizabeth was being held.
Grady followed, dragging their prisoner behind, while Agnes seemed just as determined to hang on to the young woman. As she tugged at Elizabeth’s arm, she pleaded for them to stop at the top of her voice, “Ain’t no need to move her. Mr. Wickham ain’t gonna be pleased!”
Increasingly irritated at the old woman’s cries, Gisela screeched, “Silence!”
His mistress’ outburst was taken as an order by Grimsby, thus he took aim and squeezed off a shot, sending the maid crashing to the floor. Instantly, he returned the barrel to Wickham’s neck. Elizabeth screamed, trying to break free in order to go to Agnes, but she was unable to break Grady’s grip.
Infuriated, Gisela walked over to Elizabeth and stood as though inspecting her. Then with a cold gaze of hatred, she slapped her across the face before pushing her back towards Grady. “Take her to the roof and secure her there! Then return.”
Grady did as he was told while Wickham tried to talk sense into Gisela. “Do you not see? You will ruin everything, and we shall end up with nothing. In the end, Darcy will kill you if you harm her!”
“Then that shall be my problem, not yours.”
Grimsby shoved Wickham to his knees. “Let me kill him! He would’a had me killed long ago if you hadn’t stopped ‘em.”
Gisela scowled at Wickham. “You should not have threatened me, George. We were supposed to be partners.” Then she addressed Grimsby. “Do whatever you wish with him. I do not care.”
Wickham’s shouts of protest were met with a single shot to the back of the head, and he slumped to the floor just as the sound of gunfire was heard outside the house. It left no doubt as to what was happening. They were under siege.
Grady ran back downstairs just as Gisela stooped to pick up the pistol that Wickham had carried and shouted, “Smother that candle! Both of you stay here, and shoot anyone who comes through that door!”
With that pronouncement, she hurried up the stairs towards the one person she now despised most in the world. She had no doubt that her husband would get past Grimsby and his son at some point, but then he would have to deal with her!
That revelation had both consumed and sustained her since her first glimpse of Elizabeth Bennet. From that instant, Gisela had known what path she would take and that Wickham would never be of the same mind. In her heart, revenge was more precious than the Darcy jewels and safe passage to the Americas. The man she had desired against all logic must know what it felt like to die inside. Elizabeth Bennet would perish before his eyes. Only then would he comprehend unrequited love.
Reaching the balcony, she found Elizabeth struggling to break free of the ropes that circled her waist, strapping her to the rusted flag pole still fixed against the house. Moving to her, Gisela switched the pistol to her left hand and slipped a knife from the pocket of her gown. With it she freed Elizabeth from the pole, leaving her hands tied. Then she re-pocketed the knife and pointed the pistol at her nemesis.
“Climb up there!” Gisela demanded, jerking her head towards a rickety wooden bench that had once been an integral part of the railing that enclosed the balcony. A small crate lay in front for a step, and Elizabeth’s gaze dropped to it before returning to the bench. Observing that the entire structure was decayed and completely missing in spots, she refused, shaking her head vigorously.
“Climb upon that bench, or I shall shoot Darcy between the eyes the minute he shows his face. Surely you know that all the commotion is because he has come for you? But you have a chance to save him.”
It took only a second for Elizabeth to decide to comply. Gingerly stepping upon the bench at the strongest point she could determine, she balanced, trying desperately not to glance down the steep slope of the roof behind.
~~~*~~~
The torch directly in front of the manor had been extinguished, and Richard and William crept towards the front entrance with Milligan and Burke close behind. They had trailed one of Wickham’s guards across the lawn, intent on going inside if he did. Suddenly, a shot within the manor broke the silence and when he heard Elizabeth scream directly afterward, it propelled William into action. He bolted towards the front of the house, right behind the guard who was now running up the steps to the portico. Shaking his head at William’s impulsiveness, Richard jumped up to follow just as another shot rang out inside the manor.
At the same time, to the west of the manor, Lord Matlock had just smothered the torch on that side when someone pressed a knife to his back. Colonel Neilson, who was close behind Matlock, squeezed off a shot killing the miscreant. Simultaneously, Sergeant Robeson eliminated two men who had responded to the sounds of gunfire.
On the east side, Sergeant Pugh was in the process of extinguishing the torch there when a bullet slammed into the wall beside it. Pugh was then tackled to the ground, but killed his assailant with a knife. Simultaneously, two of Wickham’s men came running from out of the woods. One was shot by Lord Landingham, while Bingley knocked the other down and then completely insensible with the butt of his rifle.
The three marksmen in the rear of the property got the best of the skirmish as they had only to follow Richard’s instructions and wait patiently for the men in the stables to run out as the first shots rang out. They captured the lot of them with little resistance.
Meanwhile, totally unaware that Grady’s gun was trained there, the guard William was following bounded through the front door. He had barely made two steps before he was felled. William grabbed the man as he slumped, using him as a shield as they both sank to the floor. Grimsby called out a warning to his son just as Richard, Milligan and Burke burst in the room behind William. All three hit the floor as shots flew at them from different directions. Richard waited until he saw the flash of a gun being fired light up the darkness. Returning fire in that direction, he hit Grady, who pitched forward, dead. At that instant, Grimsby jumped up and ran towards the kitchen with Burke on his trail.
William was instantly on his feet, calling to Milligan, “Help him!”
Taking very few steps, William encountered a body, clearly a man, jud
ging by the size. This afforded him some measure of relief, knowing that it was not Elizabeth, however, as he turned the body over, his heart lurched to discover that it was George Wickham. If he was dead, where was Elizabeth?
Fear completely overwhelmed him and gaining his feet, he rushed ahead blindly, nearly tripping over yet another body—this one much shorter. As he dropped to his knees to ascertain once more if it was Elizabeth, unknowingly he held his breath. Severely wounded and breathing raggedly, Agnes managed to murmur, “She took her to the roof.”
William’s throat tightened, and he found it hard to swallow! She? It had to be Gisela!
More shots rang out from the direction Grimsby had gone. Milligan reappeared shortly thereafter. “We have him! Burke is tying him up!”
“Move this woman to safety, and go for Mr. Gladstone,” William declared. To Richard he added, “Follow me, but stay hidden. I fear Gisela has Elizabeth.”
Richard nodded and they both hurried up the grand staircase and then up yet another set of stairs that led to the third floor attic. Once there, the balcony was visible through a wide door at the back. Richard moved to stand behind the door while William stepped through it.
Elizabeth was perched upon an obviously unstable bench, her hands tied in front. Their eyes met and instantly a deep anger began to simmer inside him at the same time a painful thought flooded his mind. If she loses her footing she will fall to her death. Fear held him in a vice. There was no way he could live without her.
While William was focused on Elizabeth, Gisela unsteadily climbed onto the bench beside her. She wobbled when she made a show of placing the pistol to Elizabeth’s head. Her actions made William pale. At the sight of his ashen face, Gisela laughed uncontrollably.
“So, you have come to me at last!” Her lips curled cruelly. Half choked by a rising spasm of rage she added, “I finally have something that you desire! How delicious!”
William tried to appear unaffected, though his heart beat so soundly he could barely hear his own words. “Let her go. She has done nothing to you.”
“Done nothing? Done nothing!” Gisela exclaimed. “This whore has stolen your affections, my dear husband, affections that were due me as your wife. She is a thief. Why should she not pay for her sins?”
“She is not now nor has she ever been my mistress,” William began, but was promptly interrupted.
“Do not lie to me! You are a man, and men have needs. All this time you have bragged of having had no women, when you have been whoring around behind my back. That is what men like you do.”
William decided to try another approach. “Just let her go, Gisela. I give you my word that I will never see her again. In turn, I pledge never to divorce you, and we shall live as man and wife. Whatever you say, I will do. I swear it.”
A hurt expression crossed Elizabeth’s face, but he steeled himself to show no concern for her feelings.
From the look on her face, Gisela seemed actually to be considering what he had proposed. “You will live with me and treat me as your wife?”
“Yes.”
“Why should I trust you to do that now?”
“You know that I am a man of my word. If I give my word, I will keep it. You will have what you wanted all along.”
Gisela stood transfixed. Though she was long past thinking rationally, it was obvious that she was struggling to make sense of William’s offer. However, just when he thought she might concede, she began to laugh and turned the gun from Elizabeth to him.
“You are quite the actor, Darcy! You almost had me convinced! I shall hang for kidnapping your precious lover and for killing Wickham. Nothing you say will change my destiny, so your offer is of little use to me now!” Her blank gaze was chilling as she cocked the pistol. “I was going to let you watch your little tart fall to her death, but I have changed my mind. I have decided to kill you first. That shall assure that you shall not be able to interfere with my plans to see you both in Hades today.”
Elizabeth had been steadily working to free her hands and suddenly one slipped from the tangled knots. Stealthily reaching into her pocket for Darcy’s signet ring, she pulled it from its hiding place and dropped it on the floor. Being quite heavy, it made a loud thump when it hit and even more noise as it made several rotations on the wooden floor before coming to a stop. Distracted by the sound, Gisela’s scowl deepened when it dawned on her just what it was and to whom it belonged. She fixed her gaze on it, seemingly about to pick it up, when Elizabeth gathered all her strength into a passionate act of courage and pushed the arm with the pistol away from William.
Elizabeth’s feat caused Gisela to lose her balance and the weapon to discharge to the left of the balcony door, hitting the wall. Seizing the opportunity, William rushed to grab Elizabeth around the waist and pull her from the bench. As he did, he turned his back to Gisela, effectively shielding Elizabeth with his body.
Gisela regained her balance in time to grab William’s arm. While she tried to retrieve the knife in her pocket with her other hand, he shook free of her grip, causing her to fall backward onto the disintegrating railing. The wood gave way, and she screamed as she tumbled onto the roof.
Richard rushed out of the attic when the gun went off, but had to go around William and Elizabeth to get to Gisela. He was not fast enough to catch her, however, and as Elizabeth buried her face in William’s chest, he and Darcy watched as she rolled down the steep roof and over the edge.
For some time, they all stood motionless, then a great shuddering seized Elizabeth and she wept. William and Richard continued to stare at the edge of the roof as though they could not believe what had transpired and expected Gisela to reappear at any time.
Later, William would learn that Gisela’s neck, the attribute she always considered her most beautiful, had snapped when she landed upon the ground. She had died instantly.
“I could not reach her,” Richard murmured tiredly. Then noticing the ring next to his boot, he leaned over to retrieve it. After examining it, he held it towards his cousin.
Taking the ring and sliding it back onto his little finger, William replied, “Her death is not your fault.” Then he looked down at Elizabeth, gently lifting her face to peer into her eyes. “I shall send for the physician.”
Elizabeth was crying and shaking her head no at the same time, so William kissed her forehead before he slid his hands under her knees and picked her up. She rested her head under his chin as they followed Richard off the balcony. Just inside the attic, the constable and Lord Landingham stood, both having arrived just as Gisela began her fall. They stepped back to allow the couple to pass.
As the entire party descended back down the series of stairs, William enquired about the others, and Lord Landingham began to recount how the rest of their party had fared. To his knowledge, a few men had sustained cuts that needed stitching, but no wounds were life-threatening. Mr. Ross’ shoulder had been grazed by an errant bullet, Sergeant Pugh suffered a flesh wound to one arm and Colonel Neilson had suffered a broken rib, possibly two, but all were being treated.
Reaching the foyer, lit by the same poor candle as before, eerie shadows made those who had died appear a ghostly shade of grey. The dead, Mr. Wickham and Grady, had been moved to one side of the room, while Mr. Gladstone knelt over Agnes on the other, nearest the light. He caught William’s eye and shook his head, just as he clasped the end of a cloth and began to pull it over her body. Elizabeth, who had scanned the room until she found the maid, sobbed and looked away. At once, William fled the house while Richard stayed to take control of the situation.
Outside, Lord Matlock and Charles Bingley guarded the prisoners along with those who were to help transport them to the local jail until they could be transferred to London. Constable Carver had just joined that group when William appeared still holding Elizabeth.
Both Lord Matlock and Bingley were visibly relieved to see that she appeared unharmed. Nevertheless, the determined look on William’s face and his short, clippe
d answers to their enquiries soon led them to understand that what he desired most was to leave Stillwater behind as quickly as possible. He made an excuse and headed towards the horses.
Finding that none of the carriages had been fetched, William asked some men to bring them to the house, which sent riders racing in that direction. And since he had no choice but to wait, he found a stone bench near a walkway where he proceeded to sit down, careful to keep Elizabeth in his lap. Taking advantage of the dark, he pulled her even more tightly to himself and kissed the side of her face, before feathering kisses downward until he reached the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She sighed and he felt her hands slide to his back, her fingers digging into his skin. Unfortunately, their moment of solitude was interrupted by Richard, who had come to locate them.
“Good news, Darcy! We have come out relatively unscathed while the majority of Wickham’s men are dead. Of the ones taken captive, only a few need medical attention, and Mr. Gladstone is seeing to them. With so few injuries, we have adequate room for all the wounded in just two carriages, so you are at liberty to take the third and go on ahead. There is no need for Miss Elizabeth to suffer further by delay. Take her to Percival Manor.”
William offered his hand, and Richard clasped it, shaking it heartily. Almost overcome by the magnitude of all that had happened and the reality that Elizabeth was safe with him, William murmured roughly, “Thank you. I shall never forget your courage and skill in planning this undertaking. I could not have done this without your help.”
“Is that not what family is about?”
Elizabeth reached out to touch Richard’s arm. “I thank you.”
His face softened as he smiled at the young woman his cousin loved. “You are indeed welcome. I swore to bring George Wickham to justice after he accosted my cousin, but it seems one of his own kind has done me the favour. That I could be of service to you, while at the same time being a witness to his demise, made it all the more gratifying.”