Elizabeth stilled. An icy hand gripped her heart.
The Duke laughed again. “Yes. You see now, do you not, my dear? Either you marry me or your precious Jane will never marry Bingley.”
He released her. “I shall call for you at seven o’clock.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. His voice was hot in her ear. “Do not keep me waiting.”
Chapter Nine
Darcy stepped into the open room of the coaching inn,his eyes scanning the darkening interior. Ah! There he was.
“Weston! Well met.” Darcy extended his hand to the older man seated in a comfortable chair near the fire, one leg outstretched on a small stool
“Mr. Darcy.”
“No, no. Do not stand, Weston. I have spoken to the doctor who attended you yesterday. I shall not have you further injured on my account. I am sorry, indeedthat you met with such trouble at the hand of Marsden, for I am sure he was behind your accident.” He glanced down at the man’s damaged leg, profoundly glad that it was only a twisted ankle and a concussion, instead of a broken leg and skull to boot. “Were it not of the utmost urgency, I would not have come to beg you back to Longbourn.”
“Of course, Mr. Darcy. I understand the necessity of my presence in this business. He coughed, wincing a little as he did so.
Darcy shook his head. “As you say, sir. I must apologize once more. It did not once occur to me that in setting you upon your investigation I should be endangering your very life.”
Mr. Weston’s eyes twinkled. “No. Why ever should it? ‘Tis not a common occupational hazard for a solicitor.”
Darcy smiled and bowed. “I have a carriage waiting just outside. Are you able to continue, sir? I consider it to be in the best interests of the Bennet family that we apprise them of your information as soon as possible.”
“I shall do, Mr. Darcy. Is Marsden still with them??”
Darcy nodded grimly, desperate to get back to Elizabeth and ensure she was safe. “He is of greatest concern. His manner has escalated to the point that I question the soundness of his mind. Indeed, I fear for the safety of the Bennet family. Especially Elizabeth, on whom his attentions have been most focused.”
“Then we must make all haste. Help me to the coach, if you would be so kind, sir.”
Though they traveled as quickly as reasonable to prevent further injury to the solicitor, it was above two hours later that the coach finally came to a stop in front of Longbourn.
Darcy, heart nearly bursting from his body in his eagerness to see Elizabeth, banged loudly on the door.
“Good evening, Hill. Mr. Bennet is expecting me, I believe.” He stepped quickly into the hall, leaving the footman to assist Mr. Weston from the traveling coach.
Hill bobbed a quick curtsy. “Beggin’ yer pardon, Mr. Darcy, sir, but the Master isn’t home. None of ‘em is.”
Darcy looked up. “From home?” Fear clung to his heart.”
“I don’t know about all that, sir. All I know is that they’ve all left for Netherfield for a family dinner.”
Darcy replaced his hat on his head, relieved. Bingley had not told him he was expecting the Bennets for dinner, but then again he was entirely wrapped up with Jane. He pressed his lips together. “To Netherfield. I see. And what time did the family depart, Hill?”
“Oh, as to that, they’ve not been gone above an hour, Mr. Darcy.”
“Ah. Thank you.” He nodded at Hill and turned to the door.
“All except Miss Elizabeth. The Duke come for her near half an hour ago. I told her she’d be late for the dinner, but she didn’t listen.” Concern twisted her lips. “Mighty pale she looked to me. I feared she must be ailing, but she ain’t come back, so she must be fit.”
He could barely get the words from his throat. “In which direction did he go?”
“Why, to Netherfield,” Hill replied, frowning. “Sir?”
Darcy did not reply, dashingd down the steps anduntyingd his horse from behind the coach., Mounting hastily, he asked Weston to return to the carriage before shouting orders to his driver and coachmen
“Bring Weston to Netherfield!” Turning to a startled Weston, he gave his apologies. “. I must go ahead. I fear Elizabeth is in grave danger! Marsden has her.”
He leaned nearly flat on Sultan’s neck. Netherfield seemed an eternity away. “Fly, boy, fly!”
#
Her head throbbed. She must have fallen asleep in a most awkward position. But, where?
From the rocking sensation, she surmised she was in a coach, traveling at a rapid pace.
Hot breath assaulted her face. “Awake, are you, my dear?”
Marsden.
Elizabeth squeezed her eyes tightly closed.
“Humph.” The heaviness lifted and the hot breath on her skin ceased.
Her lips were so dry. She tried to put her tongue out to lick them and gagged. There was a cloth stuffed in her mouth!
She opened her eyes and searched the interior of the foul-smelling carriage.
Glittering dark eyes met her gaze.
“I knew you were awake. ‘Twill do you no good to attempt dissembling with me, my girl.” Though she could not make out his face in the shadows, Elizabeth could hear the threat in his voice. “I assure you, I know all the tricks—have even employed most of them myself at one time or another.”
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, unsure if her captor could see her or not. Although speech was impossible through the cloth, she made noises in her throat.
“Oh, very well.” The Duke leaned toward her and rolled his eyes as he loosened and then removed the wrinkled cloth. “We are sufficiently distant from the nearest town to render screaming quite a waste of energy.” He raised his eyebrows. “And, you do need to conserve your energy, my dear.”
“Where are you taking me? To London?” Elizabeth coughed and peered out the window. Inky darkness enveloped them. No help there.
The Duke leaned back against the cushions across from her.
“Ha! No. Although, I confess London was my first thought.” He looked out the window, then back at her. A sneer twisted his lips.
“Then, I had a better thought. In a large way, my dear, you have determined the direction of our flight.”
Elizabeth raised her brows, but did not speak.
The sneer spread into a grin. “Yes. Your, shall we say, ‘less than enthusiastic’— response to our betrothal forced me to employ more…physical means of persuasion than I should have liked.”
“Did it, indeed?” Elizabeth tried to pull her arms apart beneath the bundle of blankets and rugs wrapped around her. No good. Her arms were bound in front of her at the wrist, the rope digging into her flesh with each attempt to pull them apart.
“I am afraid you shall sport quite the bruise when we arrive at Gretna.” He held her gaze, brushing his right index finger over his right temple.
Her temple throbbed again. She closed her eyes. “And why might that be, sir?”
His laugh bounced off the walls of the job carriage and rang in her ears.
“I must give you credit, my dear.” He pulled a bottle from a compartment beneath his seat, unstopped it, and drank from it. He rubbed his sleeve across his lips. “You put up quite the fight when you realized we were not on the road to Netherfield. You have a bit of hellcat about you. I should not have guessed that.”
Bile rose in Elizabeth’s throat, but she held her tongue. As he talked, she was able to control her breathing and the pain in her head was reduced to a dull ache. There must be some way out. Surely, they would have to stop to change horses?
“Surely, we shall be missed at Netherfield.”
“We surely shall not. I sent our regrets to Bingley before coming to Longbourn. As far as he is concerned, you have the megrims and are unequal to even a family dinner.”
“I see. And how, sir, do you expect my family to react once they discover your deceit?”
His smile sent a cold chill down her spine. “I expect, my love, that they shal
l hie to London. Which is why we are on the road to Scotland.”
“I must say, Elizabeth, when I embarked on this adventure, I had not expected to find you so…refreshing. So, beautiful.” She shrank back into the corner as he leaned toward her.
“Shall we be stopping soon, sir? I find myself in urgent need of the necessary.”
“Do you, indeed. Well, to be expected, I suppose. Just to show you how much I care for your comfort-” he knocked on the roof of the carriage. A panel slid open behind his head.
“My lord?”
“We shall stop at the next inn. Miss Bennet is in need of…sustenance.”
“Aye, your grace.”
As the ill-sprung coach rumbled into the night, Elizabeth busied herself making and discarding plots for escape once they reached the unknown inn.
#
“Good God, Darcy!” Bingley surged to his feet, nearly knocking Jane’s wine glass from her hand. The first covers had just been removed when Darcy burst through the doors. “Do you say that Miss Elizabeth is missing? That Marsden, that cad, has carried her off?”
Darcy pulled his gloves on. “Since she is not here, Charles, I must surmise that the blackguard has carried her to London. Excuse me.” He bowed briefly toward the assembled company, noting Jane’s pale face and Mrs. Bennet’s red one. “I must lose no time. I shall be off.” He turned to the door.
“Oh! Oh, my child! Oh, Mr. Bennet!” Mrs. Bennet quivered in her chair, her laces and kerchiefs trembling violently. She pushed up and stood, hands splayed on the table.
“Oh, Mr. Darcy! You must go after her. You must bring her back!”
Mr. Collins, seated to Mrs. Bennet’s right, patted her hand.
“Now, madam. I am certain there is some gross misunderstanding.After all, we know the Duke…”
Thankfully, it was Mr Bennet who rose to his feet. “He is not the Duke, sir. He is an impostor.” All the colour had drained from his face as he turned to Darcy. “I had thought her a trifle ill this evening. Never did I think the Duke would….” He trailed off, before sitting down heavily.
“Marsden will have given her a reason not to speak to you,” Darcy replied, grimly. “I shall find her, sir. Have no fear.”
Bingley had come around the table and gripped Darcy’s arm.
“Come, man. I shall ride with you. My fastest mounts are fresh and can be readied in a trice.”
Mr. Bennet pulled himself up from the table once more, following Darcy and Bingleyinto the hall.
“Darcy.”
“Mr. Bennet.” Darcy looked at Bingley.
Bingley bowed to Mr. Bennet, then nodded to Darcy. “I shall bring the horses to the front.” He turned and ran out the door.
“I mean to come, as well, sir.” Mr. Bennet pulled himself up to his full height.
Darcy bowed. “No, sir. I must beg you do not.”
Mr. Bennet’s face darkened. “This is my Lizzie,” he continued, although Darcy could see his mouth trembling. “By God, I shall not lose another daughter to perfidy.”
Darcy put his hand on Mr. Bennet’s shoulder and looked in his eyes. “And nor shall you, sir. Bingley and I shall bring her safely back. I make no doubt he is taking her to his London residence. Bingley and I know the London road better than most and shall catch them up. They must stop at an inn somewhere, for the roads will soon be too dark to travel.”
Mr. Bennet pressed his lips together. He looked a moment longer into Darcy’s eyes. Then, he nodded and gripped Darcy’s arm briefly. “Bring her home to me, then, sir.”
Darcy nodded his head. “Your servant, Mr. Bennet.”
The front door slammed against the wall and Darcy’s coachman burst through, assisting a somewhat rumpled gentleman into the hall.
“And who is this?” Mr. Bennet stepped toward the pair.
Darcy stepped forward as well. He kept his voice low, but infused it with urgency.
“Mr. Bennet, this is Mr. Weston, my solicitor. I brought him to Longbourn, but when I found you were here thought it best to bring him to you directly.” He placed a hand on Mr Bennet’s shoulder. “You see now why it is best you remain here? He is able to inform you of all the information I have regarding Marsden and has brought proof of it, I believe.”
“Thank you, Darcy,” Mr Bennet replied, walking towards Mr Weston in order to assist him. “By the time you return, we shall have the evidence in order.”
.”
Satisfied, Darcy nodded. “Now, Bingley. We must away.”
Chapter Ten
“Ho, there! Ostler!” Darcy pulled up his mount, followed by Bingley.
A grimy, sleepy-eyed youth emerged from the depths of the stable next to the Meryton Inn. He pulled his forelock.
“Yes, guv’nor?”
“Have you seen the Duke of Windfell today?”
“Yes, sir. ‘E ‘ad me hitch up a pair to a job carriage ‘e ‘ad brought out from Lunnon.”
Darcy frowned. “Job carriage?”
The boy bobbed his head. “Yes, sir. Nasty, ratty thing it were, too.”
Darcy turned to Bingley. “He must be attempting to disguise his flight by not using the ducal coach.”
Bingley nodded.
Darcy flipped a coin to the boy. “Thank you, my good man.” He turned his horse in the direction of the London road. Something gnawed at the back of his mind. He twisted around to address the boy once more.
“How long ago did they take the London road?”
The boy wrinkled his nose.
“The Lunnon road? No, sir. They wasn’t taking the Lunnon road. I ‘eard ‘is nibs say they was ‘eading fer Gretan…someplace or ‘nother.”
Darcy’s eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat. “Gretna Green? Was it Gretna Green?”
The lad nodded his head again. “Yes, sir. Gretna Green. That were it. As to how long…mebbe two hours gone?”
Darcy whirled his mount and galloped to where Bingley had stopped beside the road. He leaned down to the window.
“He has taken her north. To Gretna. He has two hours on us.”
A hard look came into Bingley’s eyes. “He must have something on her, in order to get her to agree to this. Come, Darcy. We must get to Elizabeth before it is too late.” Darcy nodded and spurred his horse to the gallop with Bingley close at his side.
#
Elizabeth tried the door to the private dining room the Duke had hired. Locked. Still, there might be a way.
“Elizabeth.”
She turned.
The Duke was slouched in a chair before the fire, bottle in hand. His coat bore a multitude of wrinkles and his waistcoat smeared with food and brandy. His jet-black eyes glittered at her.
“You cannot escap, so leave off trying or I shall have you bound again.”
Elizabeth walked to the table, rubbing her wrists. She pulled out a chair.
“No! Over here.” The Duke waved the bottle at her, sloshing a fair amount of liquid on the arm of his chair.
She narrowed her eyes. If she sat near him, it was possible he would drink himself into a stupor and she could contrive some way to escape. If she refused, it was likely he would become agitated and make good his threat of binding her hands again.
“As you wish, sir.” She settled herself in the chair farthest from his and folded her hands in her lap.
The bell above the inn door clanged. Another traveler. No, more than one. She could hear their voices through the door.
“…a job carriage…”
She gasped. She knew that voice. Darcy. Darcy had come for her.
“What? What is it?” Marsden opened his eyes and peered at her.
Heat crept up her neck. “I…it…it was a…spider, .”
He eyed her critically, his eyes glazed a little from all the liquor he had drunk. “You are afraid of spiders?”
“No…er…yes.” She screamed and jumped to her feet. She pointed toward the fireplace. “There’s another one!”
“Where?” A little unsteady,
Marsden rose from his chair and wobbled toward the fireplace.
“There!” Elizabeth shoved her chair. It slid into the Duke and knocked him to the floor. She flew towards the door, attempting to open it. “Darcy! I am here! In here, Darcy!”
A hand clamped over her mouth from behind. A sharp point pressed into her flesh just below her right ear.
“Now, that is enough of that! You feel that? It’s the tip of my knife. I shall not fail to employ it if you do not do exactly as I say.” Stale breath turned her stomach as the Duke pressed his cheek against hers. “Are we in agreement? One sound—one tiny little noise—and you shall be on your way to meet your Maker. And Darcy will follow you directly.”
Dear Lord, she would never break free. She nodded.
“Now, sit down. You shall never see Darcy again and you must come to terms with that.” He glared at her. “Remain here. I must see if that stupid oaf has found us out.” He held the knife towards her. “One sound, one movement, and I shall kill you where you stand.” His mouth turned into a leer. “Then Darcy will meet you at the pearly gates.”
Tears welled in her eyes, but she pressed her lips together. She had to focus. Elizabeth would not listen to Marsden’s threats, knowing that this was her chance. The moment the Duke opened the door, she would run forward, out past him and shout aloud for Darcy. There was no other way.
Marsden slowly opened the door, before stepping outside. He was about to pull the door shut, key in the lock, when Elizabeth made her move.
Rushing forward, she yanked the door with all of her might, sending Marsden staggering. Pushing him hard, she ran past him, hearing his gasp of shock, before making her way towards the yard. Fear prickled down her neck as she peered into the gloom, never staying still.
“Darcy?” she cried, hoping he had not left the inn. “Darcy? I am here! Where are you?” There were saddled horses in the yard and she heard carriage wheels on the street. She would try for a horse. And failing that, she would beg the people in the carriage to rescue her.
Confusion, Confession and Conviction Page 12