Trapped at Rosings

by Emily Russell

  “Hey!” the man who held her called.

  Darcy looked up, and his eyes widened in horror when he saw Elizabeth held with a gun to her head. He made to run to her, but the man who held her ordered him to stop.

  “Move a step closer, and I will shoot,” he said. Darcy stopped at once. He put his hands up, his eyes fixed on Elizabeth. His expression was wild and desperate.

  One of the men staggered to his feet.

  “Well, I can’t deny you’ve impressed me, Your Lordship. I never thought those fancy boxing clubs in London would teach a man much, but it seems I was wrong. Now, if you will kindly hand over any money or jewellery and we will be on our way.”

  Darcy glanced at Elizabeth and nodded. He pulled a wallet from his waistcoat and removed a watch. The man holding Elizabeth released her, and she removed the only jewellery she wore, a little gold ring. The men snatched them up. They looked Darcy over and seemed satisfied he had nothing else to give them.

  “But what about this one, eh?” the leader came towards Elizabeth with a leering smile. “Have anything else on you, little girl?”

  “You have the only thing of value I have,” she retorted.

  The man licked his lips and looked her up and down. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that…”

  Elizabeth felt a cold trickle run down her spine as the meaning of his words struck her. Darcy stepped forward with a growl, and the man with the gun aimed it at Elizabeth again. He stopped, but his body was tense, like an animal ready to pounce. The leader laughed.

  “Don’t worry yourself, Your Lordship. I have not stooped to that level yet.” He sighed and looked up at the sky. “Well, the day is not getting any younger, boys. Shall we press on?”

  The other men cursed and murmured in agreement between nursing the injuries they’d received from Darcy. Elizabeth held her breath. Were they really leaving? It could not be as easy as that, surely.

  “But before we go, we would much prefer if you did not set the magistrate on us until we’ve had time to put some distance between us.”

  Darcy watched him carefully. The leader walked across to the man who held Elizabeth and took the gun. He gestured towards the cottage looking so peaceful in the early moonlight.

  “You will pass the night here. I don’t know how comfortable it is, but it will do. And if you scream loud enough, perhaps a passer-by might hear you and let you out.”

  Elizabeth stared at them in horror. Locked up for the night with Mr Darcy? How long would they be there before someone found them? She had been so smug that no one at the house knew she had gone out and now she bitterly regretted it. No one would look for her until she failed to appear for breakfast which was some fourteen hours away. Would they find a way to escape before then?

  She eyed the gun the man held. This time he aimed it towards Darcy. Elizabeth felt roiling nausea. No, being locked up was far better than the alternative. Darcy did not take his eyes from her while the men spoke. When they gestured towards the cottage, he wrapped an arm around Elizabeth and kept her as close to him as possible. Elizabeth was grateful for his warm, solid strength. This ordeal would have been far worse if he had not come along just as he did. Who knew what her fate might have been?

  “Stay strong, Miss Bennet,” he whispered. “We will get out of here once they leave.”

  The leader gave their backs a hearty shove. Darcy hardly felt it, but Elizabeth would have fallen to the dirty floor if Darcy had not held her. Darcy spun in fury but the man raised the gun with a grin.

  “Careful, Your Lordship. Your temper and your concern for the lady will make you forget what I hold. And you wouldn’t want her to be here all night alone, would you? We might keep her company instead.”

  Darcy tightened his jaw and stepped back. They swung the door closed, leaving them in almost darkness. Elizabeth heard the scrape of a beam being hefted and placed against the door, trapping them inside. They listened to the roars of laughter and congratulations among the men growing fainter until they had disappeared altogether.

  Chapter 7

  As soon as they left, Elizabeth felt the strength leave her legs. She wavered, and Darcy tightened his grip on her. He looked around to find something to support her. Through the faint light filtering through a few gaps in the boarded up windows, he spotted a small stool left by the empty fireplace.

  “I am not faint,” she protested as he led her there.

  “But you are in shock, Miss Bennet. You must sit down.”

  Elizabeth could not deny she was grateful for the seat. Her legs threatened to buckle.

  “And why are you not in shock? I hardly think this is an everyday occurrence for you.”

  “It has not hit me yet. It will. Are you sure you are well? That — I beg your pardon, that man clasped you tightly. I hope you are not injured?”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “No, he held me tight but not enough to cause injury. I think the only ones leaving this encounter with injuries are those brutes. And I must say, I am glad.” She gave him such a fierce look he smiled.

  “I am glad you are gaining comfort from it. Now, if you are not harmed, I will try to find a way out of this place.”

  He walked over to the windows. Some small gaps between the planks left in a few thin slivers of moonlight but they were thick and nailed firmly in place. Darcy removed his coat and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He grasped the planks and gritted his teeth as he heaved at them. Elizabeth watched anxiously. He pulled again. In the small amount of moonlight, the cords on his forearms stood out. Elizabeth swallowed. She suddenly felt rather warm but could not say why that was. But whatever the reason, she found herself blushing. When he addressed her again, she started and looked away as if he had caught her doing something she shouldn’t.

  “That one is firmly in place. Whoever nailed it did not want anyone to remove it.”

  Darcy went to all of them one by one and tried and strained to pull the planks free. They did not budge. He cursed softly and went to the door. He barrelled at it with his shoulder, but it did not move. He stood back looking up at it angrily as he tugged his coat on. Elizabeth chewed her lip. They were well and truly stuck. Unless…

  She glanced towards the chimney. It would be a tight squeeze, but she thought she just might be small enough…

  Elizabeth knelt and tried to peer up inside. She could see no welcome light of moon and stars. She sighed in disappointment. That was not promising. She braced herself and pushed her hand up, afraid of what she might encounter. Something fell on her, and she gasped and withdrew her hands. Darcy came to her side at once.

  “What is it, Miss Bennet? Are you hurt?”

  Elizabeth tutted at her silliness. “No, just some dirt and leaves. I hoped it might be open so I could climb out, but I think it is blocked.”

  Darcy pushed his arm up and felt around. After a few moments, he withdrew it and nodded.

  “I am afraid you are right.”

  He looked around with a sigh.

  “I am so sorry, Miss Bennet. Unless someone passes by, I fear we are trapped here for the night.”

  “Are you sure? There is no loose stone we could pull aside?”

  “Nothing at all.” He turned away from her and kicked the wall. “Those — forgive me. I am angry, and I do not like to feel helpless. There must have been something I could have done to prevent this situation.”

  ‘Like what? They had a gun and if we had not complied, who is to say they would not have shot one or both of us? You cannot blame yourself for this, Mr Darcy. It is no more your fault than it is mine.” As she spoke, she peered at his hand in the gloom. She pulled her fichu and tore it.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Your hand is bleeding. This is a crude solution, but it will do until we get out of here.”

  She took his large hand in hers. Darcy went very still and quiet. Elizabeth would not allow herself to wonder what he was thinking. It was the first time she had intentionally touched him. She bound his hand then moved
away. “There. I am no nurse, but I think that should hold. But please — no more kicking or punching walls. I do not wish to spend the night binding you up.”

  “Thank you.”

  The note in Darcy’s voice caught Elizabeth’s attention. She looked up, and to her confusion, he looked at her earnestly. There was something in his eyes she had never seen before. She did not know what to make of it, and she looked away.

  “Is anyone at Rosings likely to come in search of you before morning?”

  Darcy shook his head. “No one. They will believe I came in from my walk and went straight to my room. What about Hunsford? Surely they will search for you when you do not return?”

  Elizabeth sighed. “I am afraid not. I told no one I was going out, so they will believe I am asleep.”

  Their eyes met.

  “We are to remain here all night then,” said Darcy.

  Elizabeth swallowed. The implications of his words hit her. She was to spend her night alone with a man.

  And not just any man. A man she disliked excessively. What if they were discovered together and forced to —

  No, she would not allow herself to think that way. It would do no good. The situation was distressing enough without her worrying about the consequences. She would think about what might follow in the morning.

  “Well, if that is the case, before it is too dark to find anything, shall we see if the previous owners left behind anything that might increase our comfort?”

  Darcy watched as Elizabeth rose to her feet. What a night it had turned out to be. He thought to propose to her, and within minutes, he had to face the fear of losing her. It was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and comfort her. She was obviously distressed and doing her best to hide it. He wished he had the right to kiss her and hold her and tell her everything would be alright.

  But he did not. He had not proposed, and it would be monstrous of him to even think about doing so in their present predicament. She might even suspect his motives and assume he meant to take advantage of their situation. It was the sort of thing Wickham would do.

  For the first time, a terrible anxiety struck him; she did not have feelings for Wickham, did she? He could not endure that.

  He was distracted by Elizabeth calling out in triumph. She knelt in the corner with a small box on her lap.

  “Candles and flint. They will smoke but not too much. And they will give us some light. I should feel better if we had light during the night.”

  Darcy joined her and nodded.

  “That is something anyway.”

  “Now, if only they had been kind enough to leave a generous dinner, we might pass the night in good cheer,” said Elizabeth.

  Darcy smiled. Even at a time like this, she could make jokes. He carried the box to a small stool that would serve as a table and lit one of the candles. At once, the cottage changed, becoming light and cheery.

  “That is much better,” said Elizabeth. She sat on the stool and pulled her shawl around her. “What time do you think it is?”

  “By my estimation, I should guess it not long after nine o’clock.”

  “It will be a long night.” A thought struck her. “What did you wish to speak about? You did not have time to tell me before they interrupted us.”

  In the candlelight, Darcy appeared to colour. But perhaps it was just her imagination. He hesitated and appeared to occupy himself with clearing a space around the stool for him to sit.

  “To speak to you about? Oh — just that my aunt wishes to invite you to dinner tomorrow evening. I am sure she plans to send an invitation in the morning.”

  “Is that it?” Elizabeth laughed. “You made it seem so important. I expected a dark secret was about to come out.”

  “Nothing as interesting as all that I’m afraid.” Darcy kept his face turned away so she could not see his expression.

  They lapsed into silence. “What time do you think your family will notice your absence?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I should expect by ten. Richard will realise I am missing. He knows I went to the woods so he will search here at once.”

  “On the bright side, we are close to civilisation. If we were marooned on a desert island, we might have cause for concern. But within a stone's throw of both Rosings Park and Hunsford Lodge, I am confident we will survive.”

  Darcy’s smile flickered. “Your spirit and optimism will keep us alive, Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth picked up a stick and traced pictures in the dust on the ground. “I wonder you did not return to Hertfordshire after you went to London last winter. Or at least I am surprised Mr Bingley did not. I understood he liked the place very much and was happy to spend most of the year there.”

  “Bingley no doubt meant it at the time. But once he was in London, I believe he was just as happy there.”

  “Is Mr Bingley such a man then? One who says what he feels at the time but his intentions last no longer than the feelings? I am not sure such a man can be relied upon.”

  Darcy frowned. “Bingley is an excellent man. He as an easy, yielding temper but he is honest and loyal. Perhaps too prone to trying to please others and not deciding for himself.”

  “Well, I can see why he has endeared himself to you.”

  Darcy hesitated. “He has always endeared himself to me.”

  “I still find it strange you did not see my sister Jane in London. She has been there since Christmas, and I know she saw Mr Bingley’s sisters although they did not see fit to return the call. How strange that you did not know she was there. I am sure they might have mentioned it to you.”

  “I was much occupied in London with my sister and with my other friends. I have many demands on my time when I am there, and I do not always have the pleasure of spending time with whoever I want. But why Bingley’s sisters did not return your sister’s visit, there I cannot answer. They are the only ones who can provide satisfaction on that score. Perhaps they were as I was, and were much occupied. Not that it is an excuse to slight your sister.”

  They lapsed into silence. Elizabeth wished there was at least a fire or something to draw their eye rather than a puny candle which did not give them much relief. But she could not resist plying him with these questions. As long as she was stuck here all night with him - and she winced to think of it - she might as well take advantage of the situation and discover all she wished to know.

  “The militia is to travel to Brighton this summer,” she said. “No doubt you recall many of the officers during your time in Hertfordshire.”

  Darcy snorted. “Some more than I would like.”

  Elizabeth felt her irritation grow. After all he had done to mistreat poor Wickham, for him to speak of him with such contempt and ridicule was beyond the pale.

  “Some of those have had good fortune since you left,” she said in a sharp tone. “Including one whom I am certain you recall. Mr Wickham is engaged to a lovely lady called Mary King. It would not surprise me if they are married already.”

  Darcy looked at her sharply. “It is — I know there were many — Wickham had many admirers in Meryton, did he not? I hope the news of his wedding did not cause distress.”

  Elizabeth was surprised at his response. It was not what she had expected.

  “Some more than others,” she said, thinking of her youngest sister, Lydia, and her many laments of “how could he care for that nasty, freckled thing” when she discovered the news.

  As to Elizabeth’s own feelings, she was hurt but not surprised. She had a more realistic view of the situation. Wickham must have something to live on, and if he married her, they would both be poor. He needed a wife who could bring him a fortune. Perhaps if Old Mr Darcy had not had a son to contest his father’s will and deny Wickham the church living that had been intended for him, he would have been in a comfortable position and free to offer for her. And she believed he would have done so.

  But because of Darcy’s selfishness and lack of integrity, Wickham had been denied what was
his and was forced to make his own way in the world. He had little to live on, nowhere near enough to support a wife and family. It was another example of Darcy’s cruelty that Wickham was denied those things and was left to struggle in the world. How could he behave thus and still think so well of himself? Elizabeth could not understand him.

  And yet Darcy had shown great courage that night. He had been more protective and caring than she ever imagined he could be. Elizabeth was very aware of what might have happened to her if he had not been there.

  A movement from Darcy interrupted her thoughts. Something about her words seemed to unsettle him. He had stiffened and looked away.

  “I am sure those ladies will survive,” he said in an abrupt tone. “And they will have a fortunate escape. Miss King, perhaps, is not so fortunate.”

  “How good of you to feel such sympathy for Miss King. Truly a paragon of virtue.”

  Darcy turned to look at her with a frown.

  “Miss Bennet, may I ask why you are cross with me?”

  Elizabeth drew a deep breath to calm herself. Much as she was tempted to release her rage and tell him what she thought, the reality of the situation was they would be locked in this cottage alone together for many hours more. To have a fierce argument where neither could retreat to have space from the other was not a pleasant thought.

  Besides which, Darcy was injured and had obtained the injury while protecting her. Awful as he might be, she could not fail to feel appreciation for him. And unlike Darcy, she could consider the feelings of others. She disliked him, but she would not provoke him.

  “It is nothing, sir,” she said grudgingly. “I am merely distressed by our situation.”