This is the best alternative, she told herself. After the terror she had felt that morning, the outcome where she could marry Darcy and stay with him was far preferable. This is a good thing. It will not matter how people gossip if any harm comes to us, and we are never found again. Darcy is right. What matters is that we get through this. So, she repeated the words that in a similar situation would bind her to him for life.
“You may kiss the bride,” said the clergyman. Elizabeth’s heart jolted. Kiss Mr Darcy? As the thieves cheered and laughed, she remembered they believed she was already engaged to him. And, oddly enough, she did not want to shame him by turning away from him before these people. He had been kind to her, and she owed him too much loyalty to be missish.
Darcy looked at her, a question in his eyes. She took a deep breath and nodded. Elizabeth raised her face to his. As his warm lips brushed hers, something in her stomach tightened, and she drew a deep breath. Her heart pounded. Darcy made a low noise in his throat that made her wish to curl into him and put her arms around him. But all too soon, he released her. Elizabeth almost staggered. She turned her face away from the rest of the room until she was sure it had returned to its usual colour.
“Are you well?” Darcy asked. His breath tickled her ear. She nodded. He wrapped his hand around hers and held it against his chest, then turned back to the men.
“You have what you want. We are married. Now, leave us alone together.”
Shaw laughed. “Eager, are you not? I cannot say I blame you. But you will go nowhere until you have signed the marriage certificate. Your uncle will need to see it, after all.”
Darcy and Elizabeth exchanged a look, and Elizabeth nodded. They signed the piece of paper Shaw produced, then Jameson entered the room with a cask of wine.
“A toast, to the happy couple,” he cried.
Darcy wrapped his arm around Elizabeth. “We will return to our room.”
“Aye, I know you are eager. But it is rude to refuse to drink with us. We have brought you together. Do not be so ungracious to your hosts. You have all night together after this.”
Elizabeth forced herself not to look away as Jameson grinned at her. She snatched the glass of wine from his hand and finished it in one sip. Darcy stared at her in surprise as she put the glass on the table.
“Thank you for the honour. Now, my husband and I wish to be alone,” she said in a ringing voice. She took Darcy’s hand and led him from the room. The thieves followed to lock the door behind them, jeering all the while and calling advice to Darcy that mortified Elizabeth. As they passed a door, they saw Wickham standing in the frame. He glanced down at the ring on Elizabeth’s finger, then walked back into the room and closed the door.
“He will have much to answer for when we get out of here,” said Darcy darkly. “More than he already does.”
Elizabeth looked at him, but Darcy had already opened their door, and she was eager to avoid the leers of the thieves. Darcy shut the door behind him and turned to Elizabeth.
“I must admit, I am relieved with how today has gone. I feared something far worse was in store when they took you. This is the best possible outcome.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I am sure people have had worse starts to married life.” She smiled at her new husband. “I still say the person who has had it hardest in all this is Miss Bingley.”
Darcy shook his head. “No. I will not have it.” His expression was so severe, Elizabeth looked at him in astonishment. He smiled. “It is definitely Mr Collins.”
Chapter 18
The next few days passed with little incident. Shaw informed them that they had sent the letter to the Earl of Matlock, sending instructions for the ransom if he ever wanted to see his nephew and his new niece again.
“What do you think your uncle will do?” Elizabeth asked one evening as they lay side by side in the bed as had become their habit. “Will he send the money?”
Darcy twined one of Elizabeth’s curls around his finger. In the previous days, they had found comfort in little acts of affection. Though Elizabeth told herself it was merely a way for them to feel comforted in their circumstances, she could not resist the thrill that ran through her every time Darcy touched her. If she were not careful, she might find herself in love with a man who would surely return to his old, arrogant self once they were free.
If they were ever free.
“I do not believe so,” he said. “He will not believe the letter at first. Once he confirms I am missing, if he does not know it already, he will consult solicitors who will almost certainly advise him not to give in to their demands. After that, I cannot say what will happen.”
Elizabeth shivered and moved closer to him. His arm went around her almost of its own accord.
“You have heard their threats,” she said. “You know they will have no use for us if they do not receive the money. What shall we do then?”
Darcy pulled her in closer. “It will take a while before they can expect a response from my uncle. In the meantime, we shall keep a lookout for an escape. They will slip up eventually. They will leave and not return in time. They will drink too much and fall asleep. They will grow careless and forget to be as watchful as they are. The moment they do that, we will be ready.”
Elizabeth nestled her head on his shoulder.
“They must slip up soon.”
The worst parts of Elizabeth’s days were when she was separated from Darcy to clean and work around the house. They considered Darcy too much of a risk to allow him out of the room, but the thieves decided that the separation allowed the couple to worry about one another and ensure their good behaviour. Though Elizabeth hated those times and hated the way Shaw and Jameson jeered at her and thrived on her discomfort, she would not allow them to go to waste. She could tolerate their behaviour if it meant she could watch them and see when they might let their guard down.
Elizabeth and Darcy had been married for a little over a week when she was once again called to clean the room where the men liked to spend their evenings. As usual, it was a disgusting mess of tobacco and spilt alcohol. Elizabeth noticed they had been drinking more and more in recent days, no doubt to relieve the boredom of their waiting. Empty bottles rolled on the bare floor, and playing cards were scattered over the threadbare rug as if it had been flung there in a tantrum.
As Elizabeth bent down to pick up the mess, she froze. Dust motes in the path of sunlight led a path to a shelf almost hidden in an alcove. A small, dusty bottle sat there. Goodness knows how long it had remained in that spot, but though the label was faded, Elizabeth could see it clearly.
Laudanum.
Elizabeth glanced about her, straining her ears for the sound of someone approaching. When all remained silent, she sidled up to the shelf and examined the bottle.
It was covered in dust and had not been used in some time. But it was still more than half full. How many draughts was that? Surely it was more than enough to fell a herd of oxen.
Her hand snaked toward it, eager to feel the weight of it in her pocket but she froze.
No, it would not do to risk someone missing it. Kitty and Lydia had once discovered a dusty bottle of brandy in a sideboard at Longbourn. Having satisfied themselves that it had been forgotten and that no one would miss it, they had stolen it away, eager for their first taste of spirits. And it had been just their luck that their father had kept it for a special occasion — one that arose a month after they had taken it. When he discovered they were the culprits, he had roused himself to an anger none of them had ever seen before. For at least a year, Kitty could not see a bottle of brandy without bursting into tears. It had taught them all a lesson that though an object might appear all but forgotten, that was not necessarily the case. Elizabeth’s fingers closed in her outstretched hand, and she heaved a frustrated sigh. But she would not forget it was there. If a moment came when she could use it, she would not hesitate to do so. She eyed the bottle a moment longer when a sound behind her made her turn around in a
larm, her heart pounding.
Wickham had walked into the room. He looked surprised to see her there. He glanced back toward the door, and for a moment, Elizabeth thought he might leave. He hesitated, then turned back to her.
“You are well?” he asked.
Elizabeth dusted at the table, hoping he had not seen her staring at the bottle.
“As well as can be expected,” she said. “I hope you do not consider me ungrateful when I saw my situation is less than ideal.”
Wickham poked at an empty wine bottle, his eyes lost in thought.
“How is married life?” he said. “It must be nice to know you have secured Darcy. What a home awaits you when you are free.”
“If we are ever free. Your friends do not strike me as honourable,” said Elizabeth.
Wickham flushed. “They are not my friends.”
“No. They do not seem to think much of you.”
Elizabeth picked up a tray of glasses and carried them to a bucket to clean them. Wickham still stood there. Elizabeth kept her eyes turned away from him, longing for him to leave. Why did he not go?
“If the earl cooperates, there is every reason to believe you will be freed soon,” he said after some silence.
Elizabeth declined to respond.
“Do you hate me?” he asked. His voice was close. Elizabeth turned around to see him standing close by. His expression was uncertain.
“Is that what you are concerned about? What I think of you?” Elizabeth shook her head, incredulously. “I suppose the worst part for you in all this is that a lady might not find you charming. What a blow that would be to your pride.”
“Darcy is the one with pride!”
Elizabeth put the glass down to glare at him. “Don’t you dare. You will not speak of him. Not after what you have done.”
An angry look crossed Wickham’s face.
“I suppose that is to be expected,” he said in a bitter tone. “Darcy gets everything. Everyone will always see him the hero while I am considered not fit to clean his boots.”
“Well, I have no sympathy for you there. Perhaps the fact that you are involved with thieves and holding us against our will while he has tried to save me might explain the differences in my perception of you both.”
“I tried to save you.”
“From a situation of your making.”
They glared at one another. Elizabeth was so angry she might have tipped the dirty water over his head. She forced herself to remain calm.
“We should keep our voices low,” she said begrudgingly as she returned to her task. “They will be here in a moment if they hear us.”
“They will not. They are not here.”
Elizabeth raised her eyes to stare at him.
“What did you mean? They were here earlier. I served their meal. Where are they?”
“Shaw and Jameson are out attending to — er — business.”
“Thievery,” Elizabeth corrected. “Who are their victims this time?”
Wickham shrugged. “Whoever passes by in a carriage. Sometimes they hold them up with violence. Other times, one of them pretends to be ill or injured. When the carriage stops, the other attacks.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “They are truly wicked.”
“I know. I do not like them.”
“And yet you involve yourself with them.”
“I had no choice,” said Wickham. His voice was heated. “I had no money and no place to stay. I needed to borrow money from Shaw. He charges a high price in return, but I was too desperate to care. If it were not for your precious Darcy…”
“I told you, do not speak of him.”
They glared at one another.
“Where are the others?” Elizabeth asked, finally.
“Kenneth has gone to a town for supplies. I do not know when he will be back. It could be today or tomorrow. He is less involved with the other two and tends to come and go. Shaw’s mother does not live here all the time. I imagine she has returned to her home. She may come back, but I do not know when.”
“That old woman is Shaw’s mother?” Elizabeth was astonished then laughed. “No wonder he was so in awe of her. The fearsome highwayman, terrified of his mother.” She shook her head, still smiling.
Wickham’s lips quirked in a smile, but he tried to suppress it.
“Please do not say that to him. I beg you. I know you like to tease, but he is not the man for it. He is dangerous.”
“If he is dangerous, then let us all run away now.” Elizabeth dried her hands and moved towards him. “Come, there is no one else here. We can gather what we need and escape, the three of us together.”
Wickham averted his eyes. Elizabeth reached out and covered her hand with his.
“I do not hate you,” she said softly. “I think you have made some bad choices and in trying to fix them, have been led further and further into a situation you hate. You have so many talents. You could have a bright future. Come, let us all go together. Please, Wickham.” Elizabeth gazed up at him, her eyes burning, willing him to agree.
Wickham looked down at her. His brown eyes softened, and he swallowed. He drew his hand from under hers.
“Do not ask me again,” he said. His voice was harsh. Elizabeth stared at him in dismay.
“Wickham, please. I know you are a good man. You do not want this. You can make it right. Please. Come with us. Darcy will help you. Whatever trouble you are in, he can guide you through it.”
Wickham’s eyes narrowed. “Darcy will never help me,” he said. He almost spat the words. “He hated me before, after — after —“ He shook his head. “No. He will hate me more than ever after this. He will gladly see me hang.”
“He would not. Darcy is not vindictive. He knows you tried to save me.”
Wickham shook his head. “Besides, I will never be free of Shaw. He will always come after me until my debt to him is paid. My portion of the ransom will enable me to start a new life. I will not throw it all away for a man who hates me and would cheerfully throw me into Newgate.”
“What about for me?” Elizabeth asked, desperately. “I know you feel some fondness for me. I felt it for you too. I was so looking forward to seeing you at the ball. We were such good friends. Will you not release us for my sake?”
Wickham looked at her for a long moment. His smile was bitter.
“Not even for you, my dear Mrs Darcy. Do not ask me again. I will not risk my life for anyone, and my life would not be worth living if Shaw caught me. You will both remain here until the money arrives.”
“And if it does not?”
Wickham declined to answer.
“Wickham…”
“Do not try me again,” he snapped. Elizabeth recoiled at his sudden rage. He pulled his coat open so she could see the pistol there. “I promise you, Mrs Darcy, if I need to choose between my life and yours, I will choose my own. I am more than willing to use this if you try to escape. I would rather not, however, so I think it best if you return to your room.”
Elizabeth stared at him. He would not use that against them, would he? She had a sinking feeling he might. She was starting to realise Wickham would do anything to defend himself, no matter who it cost. She nodded and rinsed the remaining glasses. She paused at the door and looked back at him, but he had turned away from her.
Darcy was pacing their room when she returned. He turned at once and was at her side in two quick strides.
“Are you well?” he asked.
A warm glow came over Elizabeth at the sight of his concern. There was something comforting about the way he wished to take care of her.
“I managed to steal something for us,” she said. “See what happens when I keep company with thieves? I become one of them.”
She drew out a little parcel of bread and beef.
“I cut generous slices for them. They will not notice a few extra that went missing.”
Darcy’s eyes lit up at the sight of the meat.
“I commend you, Mrs
Darcy. Here; you must take the bigger portion.”
Elizabeth shook her head.
“I assure you I took full advantage to enjoy my fill. I do not believe I could have another bite. No, this is all for you.”
They sat side by side with their backs against the wall as Darcy devoured the beef like a man who had been starved.
“Please forgive my lack of manners,” he said as he swallowed another chunk. “I was beginning to forget what meat tasted like. When we leave here, I intend to find us the finest fare I can.”
“I look forward to that. I hope you will have custard tarts present.”
“As many as you can eat and then some.”
Elizabeth smiled, but Darcy caught how it faded.
“What is it?”
“I spoke to Wickham. I thought I might persuade him to release us, but he refused.”
Darcy’s expression was grim. “Wickham only cares about himself. He will never risk his own self-interest for another person. What you say does not surprise me.”
Elizabeth sighed and leaned her head back against the wall.
“I suppose it does not surprise me either. But a part of me really thought this was our chance.”
You do not lose faith that we will leave here?”
Elizabeth ran her finger over a groove in the bare floorboards.
“I hoped we might have done so by now. How long have we been here? I think I am losing track of the days. Is it one week or two?”
“Almost two,” said Darcy. He glanced toward the door than dropped his voice. “But you will believe me when I say I will not rest until we are free. I am watching all the time. They will make a mistake eventually, and when they do, we will leave here.”
Elizabeth looked at Darcy’s solemn dark eyes.
“Laudanum,” she said.
Darcy blinked.
Follies and Vices Page 10