The Darcy Monologues: A romance anthology of Pride and Prejudice short stories in Mr. Darcy's own words

by Joana Starnes

  I took one of the sticks without further comment.

  We avoided the road as we traveled the rest of the way up the hill. Nearing the buildings, we heard voices in the distance. It sounded like the outlaws were preparing for dinner.

  “This is probably a good time to find your sister,” Lizzy whispered. “I do not think Wickham would allow her out with the men.”

  “What about Lydia?” I asked.

  “She is probably the one cooking,” Lizzy answered with a frown.

  Creeping through the trees, we got our first glimpse of the buildings. Stark, weathered plank houses lined a dirt street. Most were in terrible disrepair. Any glass windows were gone, likely removed by the miners before they left. I could see overgrown herb gardens and rosebushes, left untended for years, their sprawling vines dotted with late blooms. A couple of buildings were recently patched up, with fresh boards over the windows and any holes in the roof.

  Two men, talking and gesticulating with their hands, entered the smallest of the repaired buildings. I recognized one of them as the man who shot at my feet when I tried to chase them. They were close enough now I could scent the aromas of cooking and freshly baked bread through the open door. I remembered what Mrs. Young said about Wickham taking over the largest house. He would keep Georgie close, so she was probably there.

  The biggest house I could see was a few buildings down. It seemed more professionally made than the others, with a railed porch and faded blue shutters on the windows. It probably belonged to the mine’s foreman. “I think Georgie is likely in there,” I murmured, pointing it out to Lizzy. My belief was supported by the presence of a short, red-headed man sitting on the porch smoking a cigar, with a rifle across his lap. He seemed to be the only guard. “There may be a back entrance.”

  Moving as silently as we could, we followed the tree line until we stood directly behind the house. There was a door, but it was boarded up, just like the windows. We exchanged a quick glance.

  “We will have to get past the guard,” Lizzy whispered.

  “We cannot get behind him while he is on the porch, and if he spots us he will sound the alarm.”

  Lizzy grinned. “Then we had best get him off the porch.”

  This was a terrible, terrible idea. I waited, pressed against the wall, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure the guard would hear it, a stick clutched tightly in my sweaty hands.

  “Ready?” Lizzy mouthed.

  I nodded, ready as I would ever be.

  “Help!” Lizzy cried softly, her voice pitched higher than usual to imitate her sister. I prayed no one but our intended target would hear. “Oh glory, it’s a rattlesnake! I can’t move! Please, somebody help me!”

  I heard a low curse and the creaking of wood as the guard stood. His spurs clinked as he stomped across the porch.

  “Help! Oh God, it’s going to strike!”

  The footsteps came closer, the man rounded the corner and—thunk!

  The force of the blow vibrated through my arms, and the guard slumped to the ground with a satisfactory thud.

  Lizzy beamed. “I told you it would work,” she whispered as she knelt and stripped off his coat and hat, and then tied him up with a length of rope fetched from her saddlebags for just this purpose. I was beginning to believe she kept an entire wagon train’s worth of supplies in there. She searched his pockets and boots, where she found a large knife and a handgun. She passed them to me. “You may need these.”

  I pulled on the man’s coat and hat and helped Lizzy drag his bound and helpless form into the woods, where hopefully it would not be found for a good, long while. “I need you to do something for me,” I said, bracing for her argument.

  “Anything.”

  “When we get Georgie, I need you to take her down to Velvet right away. I will stay and get Lydia.”

  “No way am I leaving you alone up here!” She glared at me. “We are partners. I am not going to run off to safety and leave you to get in trouble by yourself. Besides, Lydia does not know you. What makes you think she will listen to anything you say?”

  “I will convince her. Please, Elizabeth. I swear to you I will not leave this place without your sister, but there is a good chance I will stir up the whole camp doing it, and I need Georgiana to be far away when it happens.” I would also prefer Lizzy to be far away, but I was not going to say so out loud. “I trust you to get her away safely. Please trust me to do the same with Lydia.”

  Lizzy grabbed my hands. “I do trust you, but don’t you see? It is not just my sister I wish to see safe. I also care about you! I would not be able to forgive myself if you were hurt because I was not here watching your back. We need to stay together.”

  I kissed her. I did not plan to. The desire to claim her, to hold her in my arms, to protect her, was one which had been growing since . . . I know not when. My hands cupped her face, fingers tipping her hat off and tangling in her curls.

  She responded eagerly, exploring without hesitation. She tasted of molasses and cinnamon bark, innocence and enthusiasm. Her arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer as if we could meld into a single person. Feeling her lithe form, every delicate, barely concealed curve of it, I wondered how I ever thought such a breathtaking creature could be a man.

  We broke apart slowly, reluctantly, our breath mingling in the twilight air. I felt cold at the loss of her warmth.

  “If that was an attempt to convince me to leave, you chose entirely the wrong argument.” A smile played on her rosy, well-kissed lips.

  “No, I kissed you because you are the most extraordinary person I have ever met, and if I did not, I would regret it for the rest of my days. Take Georgie to Velvet, then come back. I will watch the camp, but I will not make a move until you return unless I think your sister is in danger.”

  Lizzy eyed me with suspicion, but nodded. “Very well.”

  “Good, then we are agreed,” I said, my skin prickling at the lie, just as it did when I was a boy.

  With the guard’s hat tugged low, I approached the house once again, this time aiming for the front door. I did not see anyone about, so hopefully they were all still eating, but I tried to walk as if I belonged. Climbing the porch, I checked the street one last time before unbarring the front door and stepping inside. “Hello?” I called softly into the dimly lit room.

  “Who is there?” It was Georgiana’s voice, high and frightened. Thank God she was alive! She probably thought I was Wickham.

  “It is me, Georgie. It is Will! I have come to get you out of here!”

  “Will!” She shrieked and leapt out of her hiding place and into my arms. “I was so scared.”

  “So was I, Georgie. So was I. Hush, love,” I whispered, squeezing her in a fierce embrace. She was here and whole in my arms. “Are you hurt? Did any of them touch you?”

  “No, George kept them away from me. He told me no one would hurt me, but Henry . . . Henry looked like he wanted to. I was so scared, Will.” She was shaking like a leaf.

  “Which one is Henry?”

  “The one who shot at you . . . the one who shot Charles. He has cruel eyes. He and George fought after they brought me here. He thought they should have left you a horse. George said you walking would be fast enough and give them more time to arrange the exchange.”

  I frowned, puzzled. I thought Wickham shot Bingley, but I suppose there was no way for Bingley to tell while their faces were still covered in bandanas. Had I misjudged Wickham? Had he not fallen quite as far as I thought? I pushed the question aside for later. “You must do precisely as I tell you. We must be absolutely silent if we are to escape without sounding the alarm. Come with me.” Holding her hand, I led her to the door. I stepped out first, making sure no one was in sight. “To the woods, hurry!” I sent her ahead as I closed the door and reset the bar. With any luck, no one would think to check if they thought it was still secure. I followed quickly after Georgie, keeping my body between her and the town.

  We made it into the woods, whe
re Lizzy waited anxiously. “Thank the Lord! My hair has gone gray waiting for you to return.”

  “Georgiana, meet Elizabeth Bennet. Lizzy, meet Georgie.” I ignored Georgiana’s consternation at being faced with what appeared to be a man with a woman’s name. “Georgie, I need you to go with Lizzy. She will take you to a safe place.”

  “What about you? Why are you not coming with us?” Georgie was on the verge of panic, clinging to my arm.

  “Lizzy will tell you on the way.” I gently disentangled her. “There is someone else here we need to find, and I cannot do it unless I know you are safe.” My eyes met Lizzy’s. “Keep her safe.”

  “You have my word,” Lizzie vowed. “Come, we do not have much time.” She pulled Georgie away, looking back at me to say, “If you get yourself hurt, whatever they do to you will be nothing compared to what I will do.” With those parting words, the two women who now meant the most to me disappeared into the deepening shadows.

  When had Lizzy Bennet become so important to me? How? There was no sudden realization; it was simply there, as if it always had been. My feelings would not be repressed. My mind mocked the absurdity as I had learned she was a woman merely hours ago, for goodness sake! Yet I could not deny it . . . had no wish to deny it.

  Which is why I sent her away.

  It was inevitable Wickham would discover his hostage missing before dawn, and he would know the only place near enough for her to go was Velvet. The gang would descend upon the outpost, and we would be in even worse trouble.

  Getting a clear picture of the crumbling buildings was my first step. I circled it, sticking to the trees. I noted where the horses were stabled, where the well was located, and the outhouse. I slipped out of hiding once, to filch more rope.

  Soon enough, the gang finished with dinner and came out onto the street, scattering. No one seemed to notice the missing guard, which told me this was not an organized outfit. My guess was Wickham, being a survivor by nature, managed to surround himself with stronger men with limited enough intellect for him to manipulate. A precarious situation, but one Wickham was cocky enough to think he could handle.

  Finally, the man himself stepped out, leaned against the doorway, and lit up a cigar. He puffed at it, staring out at nothing, doubtless contemplating how he would spend his share of the ransom money. Or perhaps, a part of me who remembered laughter and long games of hide and seek wondered, he felt a small sense of regret for his crimes.

  A young woman emerged, a pail in her hand. She looked close in age to Georgie; her hair was the same as Lizzy’s. This must be Lydia. She headed for the well, so I headed to intercept her. I waited, crouched by a wheelbarrow, as she drew near. Once she was close enough, I could see how tired she looked, how patched and stained her once-white apron was. I could also see the gentle curve of her rounded belly. Lizzy was not going to be pleased by this development.

  “Do not turn around. Your sisters sent me to find you,” I called to her, pitching my voice low so it would not carry. “My name is Will Darcy.” This was a risk. She could shout an alarm and have the whole gang on me in seconds if she so chose.

  She did not, though; she just went dead still. Living with outlaws in the woods, frequently on the run, doing their cooking and cleaning for them—this life likely held little resemblance to the one she imagined for herself when she left with Wickham.

  “Do you wish to leave here? Return to your sisters? They want to take you with them to San Francisco.” From what little I knew of her, I thought the city would probably hold appeal.

  “They want me to leave my husband?” Her murmur was barely audible.

  So, he married her after all. “I think you have learned by now he is not who you thought he was. He lied to you, as he has lied to many others. Your sisters are not angry with you for leaving, they just want you safe. You know you—and your baby—are not safe here.”

  She hesitated, a hand to her belly, then nodded. “I want to go home.” She sounded so damn young; I wanted to kill Wickham for doing this to a girl barely more than a child.

  “Okay, I need you to listen closely, Lydia. Do you know where Velvet is?”

  She nodded again.

  “Good. Stay in the woods until you are clear of the buildings, then follow the trail until you reach a large, pointed rock. You will find Collie tied to a tree behind the rock. Do you remember Collie?”

  Another nod.

  “Wonderful. Take him and ride to the boarding house in Velvet. Your sisters are there. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  A shout went up. They knew Georgiana was gone!

  “Go! Go now!” She dropped the pail and ran, not once looking back.

  “Spread out! Search everywhere!” I heard Wickham shout. Dusk was fully upon us now, allowing me greater freedom of movement, but I did not have much time. Already, they were lighting lamps and torches for their search. I made my way to the stables, where I surprised another bandit with a sharp knock of my stick. Acting quickly, I confiscated his weapon and bound him, hoping the hasty knots would hold. Then I began to free the horses, slapping them on the rump to send them fleeing into the woods.

  “The horses! Someone’s stealing the horses!”

  A bullet screamed past my ear, aiding me by terrifying the animals even more, scattering them further into the night. If I accomplished nothing else, I gained my loved ones the time it would take the gang to walk down the hill on foot. I thought about taking one of the horses and escaping myself, but I feared Lydia would not be far enough away yet.

  Using the stables as cover, I slipped back into the woods.

  “Where did he go?”

  “Where’s Zeke and John?”

  “Darcy!” Ah, it seemed Wickham at least knew who was to blame.

  “I know you are listening! Come out and face me!”

  “This does not need to end badly,” I yelled, knowing bargaining was a long shot but trying anyway. “If you swear to take the ransom and go far away, I will give it to you.”

  “He’s lying!” One of the bandits fired blindly in my direction, missing by thirty feet.

  “With ten thousand dollars, you can start a new life . . . all of you!” I continued, and then moved rapidly to a new tree. Staying in one place would only allow them to narrow down my location. Another bullet whizzed past, splintering wood.

  “Wait! Stop shooting!” Wickham cried.

  “Are you crazy? He’s seen our camp. He has to die! Forget about the ransom. No man is mad enough to pay up without a hostage!” More shots.

  “I know this man. He keeps his word,” Wickham argued. “He is the most idiotically honorable man I know.”

  I dashed through the trees. While they argued, a plan began to take shape.

  “I’m done listening to you, George. If we’d done what I said, this guy would be in Frisco by now, collecting our money. Now, even if he did get the goods, he’ll deliver it with a full posse at his side to round us up before we can spend it!”

  I knelt beside the bound guard. He was awake now and glaring over the gag in his mouth.

  Wickham and Henry were still arguing, but where was the third?

  “Hey, I caught ’im! Found ’im at the well!”

  I stilled. The third man?

  Wickham exclaimed. “Who the hell are you?” No, no, no. It was not her. It could not be her.

  “Darcy, we have your little friend! What is your name, boy?” Henry’s voice, followed by a thud. “I said, what’s your name, boy?”

  “Elias.” Her voice was hoarse, pained. He had struck her. That bastard struck my Lizzy. How did she come back so fast? What had she done with Georgiana?

  “We have Elias, Darcy, whoever the hell he is. How much is his life worth to you?”

  Everything.

  “Do not . . .” Lizzy stopped short with a groan. My fists clenched with rage. I pulled out the knife Lizzy gave me and cut the rope binding the man’s feet, then pulled him up. I put the blade away and drew the revolver, push
ing it against my prisoner’s back. “Zeke or John or whatever your name is, do what I say or you die,” I whispered.

  The outlaw nodded vigorously.

  “Come out, Darcy! Here is a new trade. You for Elias. He can get Georgiana out from wherever you have stashed her, and they can ransom you!” Wickham laughed, triumphant now things were swinging his way again.

  “No!” Lizzy yelled, then cried out in pain.

  “Stop hurting him! I am coming out!” Shoving the guard in front of me, I stepped into the street which was now aglow with moonlight.

  Wickham stood fifty feet away, rubbing his hands together in satisfaction. Beside him stood Henry, holding Lizzy by the throat. Behind them stood a skinny, nervous man . . . the one who went through Georgie’s underthings, I realized.

  “Here I am, Wickham. It seems we are at an impasse. I have your man; you have mine. What are we to do?” I kept my voice steady, feigning calm I could not feel when I could see blood on Lizzy’s lip, a bruise swelling up her eye.

  “’E’s got my brother!” cried the skinny bandit.

  “Yes, I can see that, Frank,” said Wickham, gritting his teeth.

  Lizzy glared at me. “You were supposed to wait for me, not go and get yourself shot at. I thought for a moment they killed you.”

  Here she was, held prisoner by a man twice her size, and she had the audacity to scold me! I almost smiled. “I did not want you hurt. You see, I have decided you are mine to protect.” He looked at Wickham. “Here is the deal. You let Elias go. I will remain in his stead. In two days’ time, my friends will return with the ransom. Do we have a bargain?”

  Wickham opened his mouth but Henry cut him off. “He’ll bring an army of lawmen down on us! He’s seen our place, seen our faces. We can’t deal with him—neither of them!” Henry turned his pistol toward me. “I’m sorry, John. I’ll try my best not to hit you, but I can’t let him go.”

  “No!” Wickham objected. “We need the money!”

  Henry sneered at him. “You came to our group with your fancy plans and clever words, but what have they brought us? Our horses are scattered to the four winds, folks know our hiding place, and nothing but a few dollars and trinkets to show for it! And all the while, you get the nicest house, the pretty little wife you won’t share, and the pretty little hostage we can’t touch. Well, I’m sick of it!”