Rescuing Elizabeth Bennet: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Beauford, Kate

  “I do not need that,” said Mrs Rycroft with all the boastful scorn of the young girl she had once been. Darcy smiled.

  “But we have not your talents. Can you bring us to the kitchen first, if it is empty?”

  “It is empty. My grandson and his silly friends have left the house.”

  “Excellent. We will take food for our journey,” he told Elizabeth. Elizabeth could only nod. She looked at the dark with apprehension.

  “What is the matter?” said Darcy. “I should have thought wandering a secret passage in an old house would be one of your favourite activities.”

  “You would think so,” said Elizabeth. She swallowed. “But I have never liked enclosed, dark spaces.”

  Darcy appraised her for a moment, then held out his hand. His fingers felt warm and strong around hers. “It will not be for long,” he said. “And then we shall be outside and free to return home.” His fingers caressed her hand. Elizabeth took a deep breath.

  “Very well.”

  Mrs Rycroft had been standing patiently by the entrance. She grinned as though disappearing into a dark, dusty, cobwebby tunnel was just a regular everyday activity, which it probably was for her.

  “On we go,” she said in a singsong voice. “Watch your heads. This was built many centuries ago when people were not so tall. Certainly not as tall as your fine fellow.” She gave Darcy such an admiring look that it took all Elizabeth’s willpower not to laugh.

  “Do not allow it to make you grow conceited,” she teased, to take her mind from where she was about to go.

  “It is already too late for that,” said Darcy. His smile was teasing and just a touch smug. “That already happened when I heard you told her I was handsome.”

  “Yes, well — you are not unpleasant to — anyway, we must not keep Mrs Rycroft waiting.” She could feel rather than see Darcy grin as the dark swallowed them up.

  The tunnel was much colder than Elizabeth expected. She was grateful Darcy has thought to make her wear the blanket. Cobwebs brushed her face, and in her already tense state, she had to struggle not to shriek every time it happened. Mrs Rycroft moved through the dark as quickly as Elizabeth might have walked across the park at Longbourn, and Darcy’s hand around hers was solid and sure. The air in the tunnel was musty and stale. Elizabeth half expected to find skeletons of former residents of the house who had gotten lost or poor fellows who had been imprisoned by Lawson’s ancestors or perhaps treasure long forgotten by some long-dead smuggler.

  “Fascinating,” Darcy murmured. “I have always wondered how they built these.”

  “Are you thinking of installing them at Pemberley?”

  “Gas lamps are my priority at the moment, but once they are in place, I will have more leisure for considering how to build dark, secret passageways. Fitzwilliam and I would have loved these as boys.”

  A rat scurried across Elizabeth’s foot. She clamped her hand to her mouth to stop herself from crying out and pressed against Darcy. He put his arm around her at once.

  “We might encounter a few of these, I’m afraid,” he said. “You are welcome to keep close.” The prospect of freedom had the opposite effect on Darcy. While it made Elizabeth nervous, scarcely able to believe they might soon be free and afraid to be too hopeful, Darcy’s mood was buoyant. She didn’t need light to know he smiled as they moved further into the cold gloom.

  Mrs Rycroft only paused to point them towards the room where James had once slept before she led them downwards. The stone was damp and slippery in some parts. Elizabeth did not object when Darcy tightened his hold on her.

  “Now we are outside the kitchen,” said Mrs Rycroft. She smiled proudly. “Opening this panel will lead you to a space behind the pantry.”

  “Perfect,” said Darcy. He helped Mrs Rycroft slide the door back, then assisted Elizabeth in climbing through. Elizabeth looked around the familiar room, so different in the dark. She showed Darcy where Lawson kept supplies, and between the two of them, they filled a bag with enough food and supplies to see them go a long way. Mrs Rycroft stopped them when Darcy started to walk towards the door.

  “You do not want to leave that way,” she said. “I have a better one.”

  To Elizabeth’s dismay, the better way involved the tunnel. Darcy squeezed her hand, and she gave him a watery smile, reminding herself that they would soon be free. Soon, they would breathe the fresh sea air.

  “You are taking us a long way,” Darcy observed as the passage led downwards through various twists and turns. “Are you sure you will find your way back by yourself?”

  A scoff was all the answer Mrs Rycroft decided that question deserved. After some time, Elizabeth felt a stronger breeze caress her face. Darcy’s quick look told her he felt it, too. A few minutes later, the tunnel widened into a cave. On the other side, Elizabeth could see a shingled beach and the waves lapping at the edges.

  “My grandfather showed this to me when I was a girl,” said Mrs Rycroft. “He was a smuggler.”

  Darcy raised an eyebrow. “I am surprised he showed it to his granddaughter.”

  “He did not know he showed it to me. I saw him disappear, and I followed him one night. Sometimes I used to watch them work.”

  “And he never saw you?”

  Mrs Rycroft’s smile was smug. “Never. Only James knew how well I knew these passages. Was that not clever of me?”

  “Very,” said Darcy warmly. “I do not know how we will ever thank you.”

  “I have not had so much fun in years, “said Mrs Rycroft. “That is all the thanks I need.”

  “What will happen to you if your grandson discovers you helped us?” Elizabeth asked anxiously.

  “He will never discover it. No one has these past sixty years.”

  Elizabeth took the old woman’s hand. It felt frail, yet Mrs Rycroft’s eyes shone with all the mischief of the young girl she had once been.

  “Thank you,” she said simply.

  “Where do we go from here?” Darcy asked.

  “I would not take the main road,” said Mrs Rycroft. “My grandson works with many people, and you could not be sure which ones are his accomplices. Take the lane to the right and climb until you see the forest. It will allow you to stay hidden, at least until you are far away so that you no longer need to worry about John.”

  With a last smile, she turned and disappeared into the passage, the dark swallowing her up.

  “I do not like the idea of her walking there alone,” said Darcy.

  “Neither do I, but I do not think it would go well if we told her that,” said Elizabeth. “And I think she is far more capable than we are.”

  “You are right.” He smiled down at her. “I think the two of you would have been thick as thieves if you’d met while you were both young.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Not if she insisted on dragging me around dark passages. I much prefer the air and the light. Speaking of which…”

  “Of course.”

  17

  The small beach was deserted. The only sound was waves lapping at the sand under the silvery light of the moon. Elizabeth could not see the light of any house as they took the path that carried them away from the beach and up through the cliff. It was a steep journey. Elizabeth was relieved she was so accustomed to walking and climbing. Darcy did not seem too troubled by the path either. A forest stretched before them, just as Mrs Rycroft had described.

  “We will put some distance between us first,” said Darcy. “Then we will find a place to rest.”

  Elizabeth nodded. It would be some hours before Lawson discovered they had escaped. If they kept walking, they could be far away before he realised it.

  The wind was chilly, and Elizabeth was forced to keep her head down. Her eyes streamed. Voices travelled down the path towards them. Elizabeth stared at Darcy with wide eyes before he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the trees. Elizabeth’s face was pressed to his chest, and she could feel the rapid beat of his heart as he waited for the voices to pa
ss. Once they were gone, Darcy led her to the path again.

  “It might have been nothing,” he said.

  “Better not to take the risk.” Elizabeth looked around and shivered. “And so we find ourselves in the woods at night, hiding from suspicious people. Does this seem familiar to you?”

  “It does. But this time, we will not be caught,” said Darcy firmly.

  They walked for what must have been hours, passing no one else along the way. Only when the sun rose, and Elizabeth struggled to suppress a yawn did Darcy decide they should stop and try to rest. They kept their eyes peeled for shelter.

  “What about that?” said Elizabeth. She pointed to what looked like a cave inside a large outcropping of rock. Darcy could not see what she meant at first, which made him agree it was an ideal hiding place.

  Darcy helped Elizabeth climb, and together, they pushed out some of the dead leaves and branches towards the entrance so they would be hidden from anyone passing by. Darcy piled them to form a windbreaker, though it was still cold.

  “Take my rug,” said Elizabeth as she sat on the ground. “I have been warm all night. It is your turn now.”

  Darcy shook his head. “I don’t need it.”

  “Yes, you do. Do you want to fall ill?” Seeing the stubborn set of his jaw, Elizabeth relented. “Fine. We will share it. It will be warmer that way, anyway.”

  Darcy agreed. He lay beside Elizabeth and arranged the rug over them. Elizabeth edged closer, seeking his warmth. The ground was hard and uneven, small stones digging into their sides, but even that discomfort could not prevent them from drifting into sleep.

  When they woke some hours later, Elizabeth’s head was on Darcy’s chest, and his arms were wrapped around her.

  “Good morning,” said Darcy as soon as she stirred. Elizabeth sat up at once. She looked about in confusion.

  “Have you been awake for long?”

  “A while.”

  “You should have moved me.”

  “Why? I did not want to disturb you. Besides, it was the best way to keep warm. Do you not agree?”

  “I suppose,” Elizabeth said vaguely. It was one thing to sleep beside one another on the bed when they were both captives. But now they were on their way home, and surely some lines could no longer be crossed?

  A tug at her hair caught her attention. Darcy removed a dead leaf from her hair and smiled at her.

  “No one seeing us now would ever believe we are a fine gentleman and lady,” he said.

  “They certainly would not if they looked at you,” said Elizabeth with a smile. “No man could sport such an impressive beard and still call himself a gentleman.”

  Darcy touched the thick, dark hair covering the lower part of his face. “I am rather fond of it. Perhaps I will keep it once we are home.”

  Elizabeth found she could not enjoy thinking about what would happen once they were home. When Darcy shaved his beard, she would see it for the first time when she was the resented bride forced upon him, and no longer the two people who had survived an ordeal and slept in one another’s arms.

  “Did you hear anything while I slept?” she asked.

  “Not at all. But they will have discovered our disappearance by now.”

  “I wonder what they will think happened to us.”

  “Perhaps Lawson will discover Mrs Rycroft’s secret at last.”

  Elizabeth awkwardly extracted herself from their makeshift bed and retrieved out one of the sacks. She pulled out a loaf of bread and some cheese, and they made a simple meal before leaving their shelter.

  “What time do you think it is?” Elizabeth asked as she looked at the blue sky filled with skidding white clouds.

  Darcy squinted. “About one o’clock, I should think. We have another few hours to put distance between us.”

  As they walked, Elizabeth noticed Darcy hesitate every so often before deciding on a path. After walking for about an hour, they came upon the outer edges of a small village.

  “Do you think it is safe?” she asked nervously. “Anyone here might know Lawson.”

  Darcy paused. “They will be told to look for a man and a woman together. Remain here. I want to get our bearings. If they think I am alone, it should not arouse suspicion.”

  Elizabeth nodded. She moved back among the trees where she found a fallen tree to sit upon and waited nervously for Darcy.

  He took a long time to return. Elizabeth stood up and moved so she could see the village, searching for a sign of him. What if he had been caught? For all she knew of their direction, Lawson might have found a shortcut there to warn people to watch for them. He might have captured Darcy himself, and she would not know. What if they had wandered in circles and were only a mile or two from the manor? All these thoughts and more tortured her as she dug her nails into the tree bark, desperate for a sign of Darcy. Her heart pounded, and as Darcy failed to appear, she felt sick.

  The undergrowth rustled behind her. Elizabeth turned in alarm and sagged in relief when she saw Darcy. She pressed her hand to her chest.

  “Good God,” she said. “I thought you had been discovered. What took you so long?”

  “I beg your pardon. I wanted to be certain of the road we took. Then another fellow wanted information about where we had come from, as he is to make the journey tomorrow, so I had to make something up. I also had to make up an accent so he will not recognise me from their description if he meets our old friends on his journey. At least I hope they will not.” Darcy stopped. “Elizabeth, what is the matter?”

  To Elizabeth’s horror, tears pricked her eyes. Now, of all times, the stress and worry and fear of the past week came crashing down on her, and the tears rolled down her cheeks before she could stop them.

  “You do not know how frightened I was,” she sobbed. “I thought Lawson must have been there and found you. Or Harper. I thought he might take you away and kill you. I could not bear it—“

  “Elizabeth—“ Darcy stepped forward and gathered her into his arms, leaving her to cry out all her tears into his shirt. “I am so sorry. I wanted to get back to you as soon as I could. I did not think about what you must have thought when I took so long to come back.”

  “It is not your fault,” said Elizabeth, hiccupping now. “I am sorry. I do not know what is the matter with me. I am not usually such a watering pot. Kitty is the weeper in our family. I never get overcome with—“

  “Elizabeth.” Darcy took Elizabeth’s face in his hands and tilted it up so he could look at her. His thumbs caressed her cheeks, wiping her tears away. “You have nothing to apologise for. You have every right to cry after such an ordeal. I do not know many people who would have faced it with a fraction of the courage you have.”

  “I hate crying,” Elizabeth said, still hiccupping slightly. “I have always hated it. Especially in front of other people.”

  “There is no shame in it. And after everything we have shared, I think you can be allowed to cry in front of me, can you not?”

  Darcy’s eyes were so warm and kind. It hit Elizabeth with the surety of an arrow that she loved him.

  She loved him. And soon, she would part with him. A fresh storm of weeping overcame her before she could stop it. Darcy pulled her to him again, murmuring words of comfort and endearment, resting his chin on her head and stroking her hair as she sobbed. How could she never have known what a good man he was? How could she love him so much when it was so hopeless? If he knew of her true feelings, he would never hold her like this. He would be as aloof as he had been in Meryton before she knew what a man he was. And he would be right to do so, especially when every kindness, every touch of affection, every warm look and smile made her love him all the more.

  Elizabeth finally pulled herself together. She gently pushed herself away from Darcy and looked at his shirt with a laughing gulp.

  “I have ruined your shirt,” she said.

  “My shirt was already beyond redemption before you got to it,” said Darcy with a smile. “My valet
will be horrified when he sees it. Even more when he realises I intend to keep it.”

  Elizabeth looked up at him in surprise. “Why would you want to keep it?”

  “Because it will always remind me of this time. I never want to forget it.”

  Elizabeth was about to disagree with him, but she paused to consider it. She felt the same way. Though there had been times when she was terrified and distressed, another part of her knew she would not trade this time with Darcy for anything. She could not decide if the thought brought her more or less comfort.

  “We should go,” she said. “Which direction should we take?”

  Darcy led the way, taking a path around the village.

  “How far are we from London?”

  “About the same distance from Hertfordshire. It makes more sense for us to go there first. I am anxious for you to be returned to your family.”

  “What will you do? Go to Netherfield?”

  Darcy shook his head.

  “I have been thinking about how best to handle the situation. If you are still adamant that we should not be forced to marry, I will accompany you until you are close to Longbourn. Once I know you are safe, I will journey straight to London, where I will invent a story to explain my absence.”

  “Explain it? But you wrote a letter to your cousin. He believes we are married.”

  Darcy smiled. “You did not pay attention to what they said last night, did you?”

  “It was difficult to concentrate when I was convinced you were about to die. What are you referring to?”

  “I don’t think Lawson sent the letter. I think that caused Harper to take matters into his own hands.”

  Elizabeth stared at him. “Why would Lawson do that? He was wild for the money.”

  “I am sure he had his reasons.” Darcy gave Elizabeth a long look. “But it means no one knows for certain we are together. Is it still your wish that they don’t find out?”

  Elizabeth nodded, though she felt her heart clench. After everything they had been through together, Darcy still found the idea of marriage distasteful.