“I thought they were all gone,” she whispered.
A dry cough outside proved that wrong. The cough was quite frail.
“Is someone there?” Darcy called.
Elizabeth pressed her ear to the wood. She heard a faint voice on the other side.
“My room…” said a woman’s frail voice. The voice sounded aged.
“Can you help us?” Elizabeth called. “My name is Elizabeth Bennet, and I am here with my friend, Fitzwilliam Darcy. Can you let us out?” She listened for a response; even a denial would have been welcome. But the scraping sound, which she now realised were shuffling feet, grew fainter and fainter as the person they belonged to wandered down the corridor until Elizabeth and Darcy could no longer hear them. Elizabeth groaned and pressed her forehead to the wood.
“It must be the old woman I saw earlier,” she said.
“What old woman?”
“Did you not see her? She looked out when we arrived. Lawson rushed to hide her away.”
“I saw him rush, but I did not see her.” Darcy rubbed his jaw. “Perhaps we can persuade her to help us.”
“If she comes back,” said Elizabeth. She sat on the bed again, trying not to give in to her disappointment.
“Try to sleep,” said Darcy. “There is nothing we can do now.”
As Elizabeth glanced uneasily at the bed, Darcy smiled. “I will sleep in the chair. I will be comfortable.”
The chair did not look even a bit comfortable, but Elizabeth could not argue with him. He would never agree to trade places with her during the night.
“Sleep,” repeated Darcy. “Everything will look better in the morning.”
Elizabeth climbed between the coverings. Before sleep claimed her, the last thing she saw was Darcy settling into the chair, keeping himself between her and the door.
11
It was dawn when Elizabeth woke. Darcy still sat in the chair, his head on his folded arms, which rested on the table in front of him. She slipped from the bed and approached him, touching his shoulder. He woke at once, immediately alert and only relaxing when he recognised Elizabeth.
“Forgive me,” he said. “I thought you were Lawson.” He gave her a tired smile. “I am delighted you are not.”
“I am awake now, so you should sleep in the bed for a while,” said Elizabeth. “Even if it is only an hour, it is better than this.”
Darcy straightened up and groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. Without waiting for him to agree, Elizabeth caught his arm and tugged him to his feet. He was too surprised to resist her, and he did not seem inclined to withdraw his arm as she pulled him towards the bed.
“Sleep,” she said, pushing him down. “Remember what I told you before. You will be no use to me if you cannot stand.”
“Then I have no choice but to obey you, my lady,” said Darcy, his words muffled by a yawn. He stretched out on the bed. Elizabeth smiled and pulled the covers over him. “Wake me if you even hear them on the same floor.”
“I will.”
She stood beside the bed, looking down at him as he fell asleep. It was clear from the shadows under his eyes that he had not slept for a very long time last night. From what she knew of him, Elizabeth suspected he had spent hours trying to stay awake so he might keep her safe.
Never, in all her previous dislike of him, could she allow him to have such courage as he had shown. She would never have suspected the proud Mr Darcy of being a man who would protect another person, especially not one he must consider far beneath him. No one would believe her if she told them of it.
Of course, she could not allow herself to forget Darcy would prefer no one to know of their misadventure. He might be kind and caring towards her, but he would do all he could to avoid marrying her if he could devise a way to escape with Elizabeth’s reputation intact. Elizabeth would be foolish if she allowed the bond forged by her experience to let her feelings grow to where she might have wishes Darcy would only fulfil under duress.
Farlow arrived some hours later with their breakfast. Elizabeth was glad Darcy had the chance to rest. Farlow dropped Elizabeth’s wool gown on the table before rushing from the room with an anxious look at Darcy.
When they had eaten, Elizabeth changed into her own gown while she blushed furiously. Darcy turned his back to her and stared out the window with a concentration the view did not require, Harper came back to the room and told Elizabeth to take the breakfast dishes and follow him. Once again, Darcy protested, and Elizabeth assured him she would be safe. It felt natural to lay her hand on his arm, and it felt right when he covered her hand with his own and kept it there for a few moments as he looked down at her.
Elizabeth followed Harper through the echoing corridors, keeping her head down to avoid conversation. Though Lawson was outright flirtatious, Elizabeth felt no great unease in his presence. Lawson’s flirting was designed to provoke, but he had never tried to lay a hand on her. Elizabeth sensed he would take it no further than that. Farlow was little more than a boy and too terrified of Darcy to even look at her for too long.
But Harper had a way of allowing his eyes to wander over Elizabeth’s form that made her shudder. He rarely attempted to speak with her, but his eyes followed her in a way she could never mistake for admiration. Elizabeth was relieved when Lawson joined them on the lower floor and accompanied them to the kitchen.
When they reached the kitchen, Harper mutter to Lawson that although he had doubts about whether their engagement was real, he was forced to admit he believed it was after seeing them together. His tone was scathing as if Elizabeth and Darcy were somehow obscene. Lawson gave Elizabeth a long look when he heard that, but he said nothing.
Elizabeth carried the dishes outside to wash them in a tub. The morning was duller than the day before, and a brisk breeze carried over the sea. She was glad to have her gown again, and she wondered about the woman who had once worn the other dress. Stolen goods or a lost sweetheart? Knowing what she did of her captors, it was more than likely stolen. As she carried the clean dishes inside, she stopped when she realised the kitchen was empty. Elizabeth poked her head outside the door, but she could see no one. She bit her lip for a moment as she pondered what to do.
Elizabeth returned to the kitchen and hurried to the place where Lawson had been sitting. He had not been careless enough to leave their room key lying around, though she searched everywhere. Next, she tried to find hairpins; either the ones Lawson had taken from her or something that might have belonged to another woman, perhaps the one who owned the dress. Maybe even the old woman Elizabeth had seen. But she found nothing she might use to pry open the bedroom door.
The kitchen door swung open, making Elizabeth jump. She hurried away from Lawson’s place to pick the bucket up again just as Lawson himself entered the room. He walked by her to pick up a dish and turn it towards the light.
“Not bad for a lady,” he said. “I suppose you are not all useless creatures.”
“If we were such useless creatures, you men would not spend so much time trying to win us or attract our attention,” said Elizabeth in a cool voice, though her pulse still raced.
“I suppose you are right,” said Lawson as he slowly lowered the bowl. His eyes roamed over her. “You do have an impact on us, as much as we resent it.”
Elizabeth turned away and wiped down the table.
“Do you have a wife?” she asked.
“Why? Are you offering for the role?”
When Elizabeth did not reply, he sighed. “I am teasing you. I suppose you don’t recognise it considering the cold-blooded creature you have pledged yourself to.”
“Mr Darcy is not cold-blooded. He is a good, kind, honourable man.”
“Unlike me, you mean.”
“I did not mean you in the slightest. I was not even thinking about you.” Elizabeth paused in her work and straightened up to look at her captor. She pursed her lips. “But yes, I suppose unlike you.”
“You would be surprised, you know. Yo
u judge me based on the behaviour forced upon me. You do not know what I am like when things are better.”
Elizabeth snorted. “Every dishonest person I have ever known claims they were driven to it against their will. There is always someone else to blame.”
Lawson gave her a long look. He lit his pipe, then crossed to sit at the table again. Elizabeth’s eyes flicked to where she had moved the items on the table while she searched for a key, then returned to her work.
“You are an unusual woman,” said Lawson after a long silence. “I wonder if Darcy realises how fortunate he is.”
“I am not sure how fortunate you can expect him to feel right now,” said Elizabeth.
Lawson laughed and conceded her point. Elizabeth finished wiping the table, then looked around the kitchen, inspecting her handiwork.
“Is there anything else you would like me to do?” she asked shortly.
Lawson released a puff of smoke. “Just one more. You will make a list of the provisions we need. Farlow will collect them from the village later. If we don’t give him a list to hand to the merchant, the fool will forget half the stuff and come back with a dozen things we have no use for.” He smiled. “Would you like to go with him?”
Elizabeth did not rise to the bait. “Do you have a pen and paper?”
Lawson extinguished his pipe and rose from the chair. “I will find some.”
Elizabeth wrote the list he called out to her, then handed it to him. Lawson scanned it, but his eyes were unfocused, and he nodded.
“Very well,” he said. “Also, I need tobacco.”
As he still held the paper, Elizabeth handed him the pen. Lawson looked at it, then shoved the paper towards her. “You will write it,” he said. “You will earn your keep.”
A growing suspicion gnawed at Elizabeth. She chewed her lip as she glanced down at the paper.
“What is the matter?” Lawson demanded.
“How do you spell tobacco?” she asked. “I cannot recall.”
“You do not know how to spell tobacco?”
“No. I have never needed to write it, and I have only heard it spoken.”
Lawson swore under his breath. “You should not need me to spell it out for you. Just write it as close as you can so I can send Farlow on his way.” His face burned, and he turned away from Elizabeth. She tried to suppress a smile. He could not read. Perhaps that was why he delayed forcing Darcy to write a letter to his family. He feared Darcy would provide them with revealing information, and he would not know it. She scratched the word onto the paper, misspelling it to avoid suspicion.
“I think that is it,” she said. “They will know what you mean, at the very least.”
Lawson took the list and looked it over. He gave a satisfied nod as if he understood the words.
“You may return to your beloved now,” he said. “I will call you when I want you again.”
Elizabeth rose from the chair and hesitated. “You will not escort me?”
“I will follow shortly to unlock the door, so I recommend you try nothing. There is little to be reached by foot around here, and we have horses. You would never get far enough before we caught you.” He nodded to dismiss her, then folded the list into his pocket.
It felt odd to walk about the halls alone, without Lawson to tease and torment her. Elizabeth took her time, paying attention to every door and window she passed. Most of the doors were closed and might have been for years. Every time she passed a window, Elizabeth looked out to see if she might spot anything that might help. At one, she spotted rooftops in the distance, enough to make her think it was a village, at the very least. The village might be filled with people every bit as untrustworthy as Lawson, but it would also mean roads and a way out. If Darcy was right and they were near Southend, they would not be far from civilisation. She trailed her hands along the thick walls and oak panelling, thinking it was a shame that such a charming old house had fallen into such disrepair. It must have been beautiful when it was alive with light and voices.
Somewhere below her, she heard Lawson’s voice and Farlow’s answering murmur. She quickened her step so Lawson would not find her dawdling. As she did, she once again heard the same shuffling footsteps she and Darcy had heard the night before. They were muffled somehow as if they came from around a corner. Elizabeth listened to ensure Lawson was still occupied, then gathered her skirt and hurried towards the sound.
There was no one there. Perhaps in a house like this, sounds might echo and make one think they were closer than they were. Besides, she could no longer hear anything. Elizabeth sighed, then picked up her pace when she heard confident and decisive footsteps coming not very far behind her. She did not slow down until she was outside her and Darcy’s room, where she had to wait for Lawson to follow.
12
Once again, Darcy caught Elizabeth into an embrace as soon as he saw her, demanding reassurance that she was well. Elizabeth tried to ignore the skip in her heart at the concern in Darcy’s eyes and the feel of his arms around her as she promised him she had come to no harm.
“When will you allow me to send a note to my family?” he demanded of Lawson, keeping his arms around Elizabeth.
“Soon,” said Lawson shortly. “Once we have decided how we will get the money. We do not all have agents willing to do our work for us.”
Elizabeth waited until he had left the room before turning to Darcy.
“He cannot read or write,” she whispered, keeping her voice low in case Lawson lingered.
Darcy’s eyes brightened, then grew thoughtful. “Are you sure?”
“Very sure. He asked me to write a shopping list, and though he tried to hide it, it was clear he could not do it himself. I think he not only has to worry about how he will get the money without your family alerting authorities or being found, but he also cannot be sure you will not include information about where we are that he will not know is there.”
Darcy smiled. “That is something.”
Elizabeth also told him of the small town she could see in the distance.
“If we can escape, we only need to make it as far as there,” she said. “Or at least get further away before we are caught. Perhaps no one even has to know we are together.”
Darcy’s arms tensed, reminding Elizabeth he still held her. She removed herself from his arms.
“You are so set against having to marry me, then?”
Elizabeth turned away to hide her flushed cheeks. “Of course. As much as you are. Neither of us would want to be forced to marry, and we both know we would never choose one another.”
Darcy paused. “I suppose you are right,” he said. “We would never choose one another for marriage. It would be a ludicrous idea.”
Elizabeth flinched at his words, but she steeled herself not to care. Darcy would marry her if they were discovered, but she would not endure a husband who did not love her and who would resent her all his days. Darcy might be kind and caring now, and there were even moments when she wondered if he might feel something for her. But they were in exceptional circumstances, and Elizabeth would not allow herself to believe that how he treated her now would be the case once they were safe and returned to their normal lives.
“Yes,” she said coolly. “We would never make one another happy.”
Darcy looked as though he would like to say something else but had resisted. He pressed his lips into a flat line.
“Now that we have established that yet again, perhaps we can turn our attention to more productive matters. We can worry about how to hide the fact that we were together once we are out of here. And how we can escape.”
Elizabeth rubbed her arms, feeling chilly. “He allowed me to return to the room alone,” she said. “I hope he grows careless. I think he will make a mistake, eventually.”
The following days passed in much the same way. Lawson came to the room after breakfast and took Elizabeth away to perform chores while watching her and trying to provoke her. Sometimes he was quite nice
to her and seemed sincerely interested in her views. Then, moments after being nice, it was as if he recalled he was supposed to tease her, so he would provoke her again, mostly about her supposed relationship with Darcy. Elizabeth noticed he seemed to enjoy it when she was pert, and she took advantage of the opportunity to make him laugh. The more he laughed, the more he seemed to enjoy her company and the more at ease he felt around her.
He allowed her more freedom. Not much, but he was content to send her to different rooms to fetch and carry for him, which allowed her time to look about her and see if she could spot anything useful that would enable her and Darcy to escape. But Lawson kept their room key on his person at all times, and he always locked her and Darcy in the room together afterwards.
Elizabeth had persuaded Lawson to let her light a fire in their room as the weather grew colder, and she took his begrudging allowance as a sign that he grew more indulgent with her. Elizabeth tried to convince Darcy to use the time when she was downstairs to sleep on the bed as he still did not sleep at night, but he was reluctant, and he was always awake and ready to receive her as soon as she returned to the room.
“What do you think our families and friends have made of our disappearance?” Elizabeth asked one afternoon as she lay on the bed staring at the moth-eaten canopy overhead.
“Bingley will have informed my family,” said Darcy. “We’ll be mentioned in every paper. Whether they realise we are together, I do not know. The workers were due to finish that evening, so they have no reason to suspect their disappearance.”
Elizabeth rolled on her side and tucked her hands under her cheek to look at Darcy. She marvelled at how much easier it was to be in his presence now. A week ago, she would never have dared lie at ease on a bed with him beside her.
“Lawson says he will wait until your family is so concerned for your safety that they will be relieved to hear you are alive and will send you whatever you ask,” she said.
Rescuing Elizabeth Bennet: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 7
