Rescuing Elizabeth Bennet: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Beauford, Kate

  “Why would he be cross?”

  “He said I was not to speak to you while you were in the kitchen. He said I must get my rest instead. He does not like me to wander about the house.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “You seem to manage it very well.”

  Mrs Rycroft giggled. “Oh yes. My grandson does not know this house anywhere near as well as I do. I can go anywhere, and he does not know. But you will not tell him we spoke, will you?”

  A stab of concern went through Elizabeth. “What will happen if he is cross with you?”

  “He will not be cross with me. I do not think he is ever cross with me. But he does not like when his women speak to me. Please go back to the kitchen. You will not tell him we spoke, will you? You are a nice girl. I do not want him to be cross with you.”

  The old woman looked so beseeching that Elizabeth caught her thin hands in hers on impulse.

  “I will not tell him,” she promised. “He will never know. I will return if it makes you feel better. I hope we might speak again soon.”

  Mrs Rycroft smiled. “I hope so too. It is nice to talk to someone besides my grandson. Be well, dear. I will see you soon.”

  14

  Lawson returned while Elizabeth was still in the kitchen. Harper had not harassed her again, but she suspected he was somewhere nearby. Instead, Farlow had taken his place. The young boy had brought a cake from home and insisted Elizabeth share it. Lawson found them sitting at the table together, drinking tea as they discussed the merits of lemon cake over fruit.

  “It is hard to maintain appearances when you insist on treating the prisoners to sweets, Farlow,” he remarked. He removed his threadbare greatcoat and flung it to one side. Farlow was still chewing cake, so his anxious defence was mumbled amongst crumbs. Elizabeth defended him.

  “You should praise his thoughtfulness,” she said. “We might be prisoners, but there is no need for cruelty.”

  Lawson raised an eyebrow. “Cruelty? When have I been cruel?”

  “Taking us from our families and keeping us locked away is what most would consider cruel.”

  Lawson gave her a long look. “Finish your cake,” he said gruffly. “Where’s Harper?”

  “He left,” said Farlow, throwing Elizabeth a grateful look. “He told me to stay with Miss Bennet and not allow her to run rings around me.”

  Lawson released a bark of laughter. “I can see how well you followed his instructions. Has Miss Bennet finished her work?”

  “You can see for yourself,” said Elizabeth.

  Lawson turned his head to look at the stacked crockery.

  “I trust you,” he said coolly. “Is there any tea left?”

  “No, but I will make more.” Farlow started to stand up. Lawson stopped him in his tracks.

  “Miss Bennet will make it.” He nodded to the stove.

  Elizabeth met his eyes. She took another bite of cake, then waited until it was gone before she went to the stove. Lawson’s eyebrow raised, and the corner of his mouth twitched, but he said nothing about the small show of rebellion.

  Elizabeth waited for the water to boil, then carried the cup and tea leaves to prepare the tea. When she lifted the pot, it was heavier than she expected. She gasped while Lawson cried out an alarmed, “Be careful, Miss Bennet.” Hot water splashed, catching Elizabeth’s skin, making her cry out. Lawson grabbed the pot from her hands, giving only a slight hiss of pain as some of the hot water met his rough, calloused skin. He caught Elizabeth by her uninjured hand and led her to where a bucket of cold water stood. He plunged her hand in, holding it there when she tried to pull away.

  “Miss Bennet, trust me,” he said through gritted teeth. “This will ease the pain and prevent injury.”

  Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears. Gone was the sarcastic, taunting man she had known. Lawson’s blue-green eyes were filled with concern.

  “I don’t think you were too splashed,” he said. “I think you will be fine.”

  Elizabeth swallowed. “Thank you,” she said faintly. It fascinated her to see him like this. To see the man he could be in a different world. Or if he made other choices.

  “How does it feel now?” he asked, still holding her gaze.

  Elizabeth looked down into the bucket. Lawson’s large, calloused hand held hers more gently now beneath the water. Her hand still throbbed, but it had faded quickly. She thought it would be gone in a few hours. She told him that.

  “Keep it in the water for another few minutes,” he said. His tone was gentle. Elizabeth shifted her gaze to look at him again. There was a sympathy in his eyes that surprised and touched her.

  A sound at the door caused them to look away. To Elizabeth’s dismay, Harper strode into the kitchen and threw a packet of tobacco on the table. He never took his eyes from Elizabeth and Lawson.

  “What’s this?” he drawled. “The fine Mr Darcy won’t like it if his wife gets too close to the grubby thieves.”

  Lawson released her hand and nodded for her to keep it where it was. He clenched his jaw.

  “Miss Bennet hurt herself,” he said shortly. “Where did you run off to?”

  “Mason’s. He owes me.” Harper didn’t take his eyes from the pair. “How did you hurt yourself, Miss Bennet?”

  “Hot water,” she said flatly. Harper’s eyes narrowed at her dismissive tone.

  “I have some salve,” he said. “Good stuff. I can apply it if you like. No scars, or so I’m told.”

  Elizabeth didn’t want Harper within inches of her, never mind touching her. She threw a pleading glance at Lawson. He frowned. For a moment, she was afraid he would make a sarcastic remark, something that would expose her once again to Harper’s anger and jealousy. Instead, he shook his head.

  “There is no need for that. I have excellent stuff I can offer Miss Bennet. And she still has the use of her other hand. She can shift for herself.”

  Harper marched past them, out the servants’ entrance, allowing the door to slam behind him. Elizabeth could see him through the window, the set of his shoulders radiating resentment and ill-usage. She glanced uneasily at Lawson.

  “Harper won’t hurt you,” he said in a low voice. “He’s all bluster and bark.”

  “He’s angry with me,” she said. “He complained earlier that I don’t talk to him as much as I do to you and Farlow.”

  Lawson released a brief laugh. “Well, he doesn’t talk much to encourage conversation. Harper is one of those men who is always dissatisfied with something. If it’s not you, it’s something else. And he is frustrated…”

  Elizabeth waited for him to continue. When he did not, she prompted him.

  “With what?”

  “He thinks this is taking longer than it should. As if he has any basis for comparison.”

  Elizabeth tensed. Lawson touched her forearm to lift her hand from the water and held it up to examine it.

  “And is it taking longer than it should?”

  Lawson shrugged. “Certain aspects are — unexpected.”

  He peered closer at her hand and abruptly turned away. He came back with a small tin he placed carelessly beside her.

  “Apply that,” he said. “Take it with you. I’ll not have Mr Darcy say we don’t take good care of his wife.”

  Elizabeth fumbled with the tin, but with her other hand still wet and still slightly smarting, it slipped in her hands. Lawson took it from her and opened it.

  “Hold out your hand,” he ordered.

  Elizabeth silently obeyed. Lawson took a scoop of the sweet-smelling ointment and spread it generously over the area that had been burned.

  “Leave it to soak in,” he said. “When it has, I will return you to your room.”

  “Thank you,” said Elizabeth quietly. The salve seemed to work, her skin feeling cooler and more soothed already. Lawson released her hand with all the appearance of reluctance. As they stepped apart, a movement at the window caught Elizabeth’s eye. She and Lawson both looked up to see Harper watc
hing through the window. He glanced away, seeming angrier than before.

  “I don’t feel safe with him,” Elizabeth whispered. “I feel like he means harm to us.”

  Lawson took a breath. “He won’t hurt you. Harper is an angry man, but he never acts on it.”

  “When did you send the letter?” Elizabeth asked. “How much longer are we to be here?”

  Lawson gave her a long, searching look. He picked up the tin and pushed it into her hand.

  “Use this as you need it,” he said. “Come on. I will take you back to Darcy.”

  Seeing the guarded look in his eyes, Elizabeth knew there was no point in asking more questions. She threw another anxious look at Harper. He stood with his back to the window, and though he paid them no attention, she still felt uneasy. Lawson followed her look but said nothing. He offered her his arm, something he had never done before, and escorted her back to where Darcy waited anxiously.

  15

  Lawson didn’t return for Elizabeth for the rest of the day. Elizabeth told Darcy about her meeting with Lawson’s grandmother, and they discussed various ways they could persuade her to help them. Having little else to do, they retired to bed as darkness fell.

  A noise disturbed Elizabeth’s sleep. She opened her eyes to see Darcy was already awake, his eyes fixed on the door. His eyes gleamed in the dying light of the fire.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  Darcy put a finger to his lips. He stood up and watched the door carefully. Elizabeth jumped up too and stood at his side, her heart racing. The sound came again, and this time there was no mistaking it. The heavy tread of a booted foot creaked on the wooden floor outside. As far as Elizabeth was aware, Lawson had never come to the door at night. She glanced at Darcy. His tense manner didn’t ease her fears.

  Metal scraped at the door, the unmistakable sound of a key being inserted into a lock. Elizabeth’s breath caught. Without thinking, she slipped her hand into Darcy’s, who squeezed it gently, then pulled her behind him.

  “Darcy…” she said nervously.

  “Nothing will happen to you, Elizabeth,” said Darcy with quiet conviction.

  The door swung inward. Harper leaned against the doorframe, a half-empty bottle of brandy hanging from his fingers. His lips curved when he saw Elizabeth.

  “There’s been a change of plan,” he said. “You’re coming with me.”

  His eyes remained on Elizabeth as he spoke, and Darcy evidently came to the same conclusion as Elizabeth.

  “I will kill you first,” said Darcy. His voice was so low it was almost a snarl.

  Harper’s smile broadened. Elizabeth had never seen him so animated. He lifted his other arm and pointed a pistol at them. Elizabeth gasped and tugged at Darcy’s arm, afraid he would fly at the other man and be killed.

  “I’m not separating the lovebirds,” said Harper. “I need both of you. Outside. Now.”

  “Where is Lawson?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Why?” Harper cocked his head. “Do you hope to wrap him around your little finger, as you’ve done so beautifully? Lawson’s part of this adventure is sadly at an end. You will come where I take you now.”

  When Darcy didn’t move, Elizabeth looked up at him and pressed his hand. If they remained there, he would kill them. If they went outside, they at least had a chance to escape. She only hoped Darcy understood and agreed.

  Darcy nodded curtly. Keeping himself between Elizabeth and Harper, he led her towards the door. As they passed him, Harper caught Elizabeth’s arm and pulled her to his side as she cried out, and Darcy swore with rage and reached for her.

  “The lady will travel with me,” he said. He raised the gun to remind Darcy it was there.

  Darcy was past caring. He lunged at the other man. Elizabeth screamed when the gun fired. Darcy pinned Harper beneath him, forcing his gun hand to the ground as Harper swore and struggled. Neither of them seemed hurt. Elizabeth looked around frantically for something to help Darcy. An ugly vase stood at one side of the passage. Elizabeth ran on bare feet down the cold corridor, her heart sick with fear that every second meant life or death for Darcy.

  Before she could grab the vase, Lawson ran around the corner.

  “Elizabeth,” he snapped. “What’s going on—“ He stopped as he stared past her in amazement. Swearing, he sprinted down the corridor to where Darcy and Harper still grappled, the gun swinging dangerously. Elizabeth picked up the vase and ran after Lawson, who bobbled and weaved as he avoided the gun’s aim. Without warning, he turned and shoved Elizabeth hard. Elizabeth was too astonished to cry out as she fell to the ground, the vase cracking. Only then she saw Harper struggling to aim the gun at her as Darcy tried to reach for it.

  Elizabeth scrambled to her feet and rushed forward, terrified for Darcy’s safety now that Lawson had joined the fray. To her astonishment, Lawson helped Darcy pin Harper to the ground and grabbed the gun from his hand, then aimed it at his accomplice.

  Darcy cautiously rose to his feet, looking at Lawson in confusion. Elizabeth touched his arm, and he turned at once, then pulled her into a fierce embrace. He didn’t remove his arms as they turned to watch Lawson, who had never appeared so angry.

  “What were you doing?” he demanded.

  “What you should have done. I found it, you know. You never sent it. You’ve grown soft, Lawson.”

  Lawson’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

  “I wouldn’t count on that,” he said in a low voice. “Who else do you have?” When Harper didn’t answer, Lawson spat at his feet. “Darcy, take Miss Bennet back to your room. Close the door.”

  Darcy and Lawson looked at one another for a long moment. Some understanding passed between them. To Elizabeth’s surprise, Darcy nodded. Keeping one arm around Elizabeth, he led her back to their room and shut the door. After a few moments, the sound of a key turned in the lock. Lawson and Harper could be heard arguing fiercely, but their voices faded.

  Elizabeth turned to Darcy in terror.

  “What now?” she whispered.

  16

  Elizabeth didn’t expect to sleep for the rest of the night. She lay shivering in Darcy’s arms as he stroked her back and murmured words of comfort.

  “What do you think that was about?” she whispered.

  “I have my suspicions, though I cannot know for sure,” said Darcy. “But I do know we must get you out. I do not care what it costs me. You cannot be here any longer.”

  “I am not having this discussion again. I will not leave you. I will—“

  “Shh.”

  “Do not tell me to shush. I have as much right as you to—“

  “Elizabeth, please.” Darcy was staring at the wall behind their heads. He sat up, gently pushing Elizabeth to one side, his body tense.

  Elizabeth fell silent at once. Something moved in the wall behind them.

  “What do you think it is?” she whispered.

  “I do not know.” Darcy’s gaze was fixed on the wall. “But that is not a rat.”

  He released Elizabeth and quietly approached the wall, pressing his ear against it. Elizabeth slipped from the bed to join him. Darcy pressed a finger to his lips, and she nodded. He raised a hand and tapped three times. The shuffling stopped for a moment, then a timid three knocks responded.

  “Who is there?” Darcy asked in a low voice.

  There was no response.

  “Is someone in there?” asked Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth just thought they had frightened their visitor away when a scraping sound made them both jump. The wood panel beside them creaked and groaned as it slid to one side, as though it was the first time it had opened in years. Darcy pulled Elizabeth behind him, keeping his arm outstretched to protect her from whatever might be about to happen. Elizabeth clutched at Darcy’s arm, her heart pounding. They both stared in amazement when a smiling face appeared in the gloom. Darcy stared at her in bewilderment while Elizabeth cried out and made to move towards her, though she had to struggle to remind Darcy t
o release her.

  “Mrs Rycroft,” she said. “What are you doing here? What is this?” She took the old woman’s hand and helped her into the room, then peered into the dark from which she had emerged. Elizabeth could see nothing but her hair ruffled in a slight breeze. She turned to look at Darcy with wide eyes. Darcy was courteously introducing himself to Mrs Rycroft, who beamed up at him.

  “You are very handsome,” she said. “Is he not, Elizabeth? You told me he was, but I think he is more handsome than you said.”

  Darcy raised an eyebrow, which Elizabeth chose to ignore.

  “Mrs Rycroft, what is this?” she asked. “Where will this take us?”

  Mrs Rycroft sighed and looked about the room with contentment.

  “I remember this place,” she said. “James would come to me here, or I would go to him, and no one would know.” She gave the pair a mischievous smile as her meaning dawned on them.

  “Then this will take us to another part of the house?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Oh yes. It will even take you out of the house. There are tunnels and passages all over it. I explored them all when I was a little girl.”

  “Mrs Rycroft.” Elizabeth crossed to her to take her hand. “Will you show us the way?”

  “You will not tell my grandson? I heard the commotion earlier, and I think you need to leave, but I wouldn’t like him to know I helped.”

  “I promise never to speak another word to your grandson if I can help it.”

  Mrs Rycroft beamed. “Very well. Come with me. This is exciting. I have led no one through here since I led James back to his rooms before the servants could discover us.”

  Elizabeth did not mean to look at Darcy after such a statement, but instead of the disapproval she thought to see there, he seemed highly amused.

  “No one is born old,” he murmured. He turned away towards the bed and took the wool blanket. He draped it around Elizabeth’s shoulders. “It is winter. We will need this.”

  Elizabeth waited while he pulled it around her shoulders, her skin prickling as he brushed it. Darcy took a stick from the fire and used it to light their way as well as he could.