Rescued by Mr Darcy

by Anne-Marie Grace

  Rescued by Mr. Darcy

  A Pride and Prejudice Variation

  Anne-Marie Grace

  Rescued by Mr. Darcy

  Copyright © 2019 by Anne-Marie Grace

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Anne-Marie Grace

  Chapter 1

  Elizabeth

  Elizabeth felt her eyes growing heavy; outside the carriage window, she could see that full night had fallen. A broken wheel had extended their journey by several hours, but she and Jane had decided to press on through the night to reach Longbourn on schedule.

  Their driver had been hesitant, the darkness hid many things, but Elizabeth had persuaded him in the end. Apart from the desire to be home after several weeks away, Elizabeth did not want to put her father in a difficult position financially—a night’s food and lodging, as well as the expense for an extra day’s hire for the coach and driver, would have required Mr. Bennet to scrimp in another area.

  No, it was far better to press on—even if it meant travelling in the dark.

  Jane was already asleep, her head resting on Elizabeth’s shoulder. Elizabeth smiled down at her sister, knowing she was exhausted. They always enjoyed visiting their Aunt and Uncle Gardiner in London, but their young cousins hardly made the visit restful. They especially loved Jane, who was always up for a game, a walk or to read a book. Elizabeth knew they liked her as well, but she did not possess Jane’s inexhaustible patience.

  Mrs. Bennet had insisted upon this trip. She had proposed it as a treat for her eldest daughters, but Jane and Elizabeth knew from the start that Mrs. Bennet had sent them from the county to search for husbands.

  Well, Elizabeth smiled to herself, Mrs. Bennet had sent her from the county. Was it Elizabeth’s fault that the men of Hertfordshire were so slow-witted that they found the second-eldest Bennet girl’s quick mind and quicker tongue intimidating?

  “Were they wolves and you a deer, they still would have naught to do with you,” Mrs. Bennet had observed.

  Elizabeth had quickly declared the feeling mutual, but her mother’s assessment stung. Perhaps that was why she had acquiesced to this London visit with a bit more alacrity than she might have under other circumstances.

  The carriage bumped on the road and Jane stirred in her sleep. She glanced at Elizabeth with sleepy eyes. “Are we home yet?”

  “Not yet, my dear,” Elizabeth told her. “An hour at least, perhaps two.”

  Jane nodded and sat up, stretching her back.

  “How did you sleep? Were your dreams much disturbed by a parade of eligible London bachelors?” Elizabeth teased.

  “Hardly,” Jane replied with a blush. “And I do not know why you tease so, for it was you they were intrigued by.”

  “For the space of a moment,” Elizabeth dismissed. “The few that had the courage to have an entire conversation exposed their faults with the rays of their ignorance. It was you that drew them, like flies to honey.”

  Her sister was beautiful, far more beautiful than Elizabeth herself, and Jane had long attracted the gaze of male admirers. But Jane was shy and slow to open up, and few of those admirers had either the patience or inclination towards the time needed to break past Jane’s reserve.

  “And yet we return from our trip unattached,” Jane observed. “Mama will be so disappointed.”

  “And you, sister,” Elizabeth asked, truly curious. “Are you disappointed?”

  “A bit,” Jane admitted. “What woman does not want marriage? And children? A house of her own?”

  “I believe I am that strange creature,” Elizabeth said loftily. “For I shall not be saddled to a man unless I truly and deeply love him. And to be loved by me he must be… kind. Intelligent. In possession of both wit and humour. A man with an easy smile and beautiful eyes. And, of course, he must be disgustingly rich.”

  “Is that all?” Jane asked, laughing. “Well, it is no wonder no one has yet caught your eye. However, if such a man exists, I dearly hope you meet. For I wish nothing more than to see you made silly with romance and love.”

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply when the carriage suddenly stopped. Both sisters were flung forward, striking the front of the carriage. Elizabeth pushed herself back onto the seat and looked at Jane.

  “Are you unhurt?” She asked quickly.

  “Yes, I am fine,” Jane said, slowly sitting back down. “What happened? Why have we stopped?”

  Elizabeth shook her head, not knowing the answer. They could hear shouts and cries coming from outside, and Elizabeth looked carefully out the carriage window.

  The scene that met her eyes made her feel sick. Two men, their faces obscured by scarves, were approaching the coach. Each man clutched a heavy, deadly looking club in their hands.

  Elizabeth pulled her head back into the carriage quickly.

  “Highwaymen,” she whispered to Jane.

  Even in the darkness, Elizabeth could see Jane’s face go white. Jane grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and gripped it tightly.

  “What shall we do?” She asked quietly, fear in her voice.

  Elizabeth was thinking furiously, trying to find the answer. But her mind was blank. Highwaymen! There had not been highwaymen in Hertfordshire since before she was born! Since Mr. Bennet was a child! What were they doing here now?

  The door suddenly swung open, revealing one of the robbers. Elizabeth could see his clothing was filthy and caked with dirt and grime. The smell of strong drink assaulted her nostrils and she felt herself recoil against Jane.

  “All your valuables,” the man growled. “Now. And no one gets hurt.” The man had a leer in his eyes that told Elizabeth his word was not to be trusted. Her fear was pushed out of her body by a wave of sudden rage.

  “I will give you nothing!” She hissed, resisting the urge to kick the man’s ugly face. His scarf had slipped, revealing a gash of a mouth full of rotted teeth beneath his bulbous nose. Behind him, Elizabeth could see that the other bandit had the coachman on the ground. Elizabeth felt sorry for the man—she could see he had already taken a heavy beating. One eye was already swollen closed and his nose was bleeding.

  “You want to listen, miss,” the other highwayman called.

  “You’re a pretty one,” the man before Elizabeth said,
seeing Jane for the first time. “It would be a shame if something happened to her.”

  “Lizzy…” Jane said, her face a mask of fear. “Maybe we should listen.”

  “And after that?” Elizabeth asked heatedly. “How do we know they will let us go?”

  “I guess you’ll have to do what we want and see,” the highwayman said nastily. “Now, give—” His words suddenly cut off and his head whipped around towards the road. Elizabeth listened closely and heard horse’s hooves pounding the ground. She heard the galloping stop and a hard voice ask:

  “What is going on here?”

  “Nothing that concerns you,” the highwayman with the driver said warningly. “Move along unless you want the same.”

  “I would say this concerns me a great deal,” the stranger’s voice said, anger filling every syllable. “How dare you attack a carriage like this!”

  Elizabeth saw that their captor’s attention was elsewhere. Now that she had assurances of help, an idea began to form in her mind. In a flash, she made her decision. Bracing her back against the seat, she used both of her feet to kick the robber’s chest, sending him sprawling on the ground. Curses filled the air, from both the highwaymen, but Elizabeth ignored them.

  “That’s for threatening my sister!” She said harshly.

  In the darkness, she saw a figure on horseback loom over the fallen highwayman, making no effort to keep the horse’s hooves away from the man. Elizabeth heard a cry of pain and knew the man had suffered some injury from the beast. The man astride the horse had his arm outstretched towards the second man.

  “It is dark,” the strange man said, his voice steady but not yet free of anger. “So I will give you the benefit of informing you that I have a pistol trained upon your heart. Should you attempt to continue your robbery, you will find that my horse can do more damage than a few broken fingers, and I will put a lead ball through your body.”

  Elizabeth felt a chill roll down her back. She believed the stranger would do it.

  The horse and rider blocked her view of everything that was happening, but she saw the highwayman on the ground scramble to his feet, cradling his hand. He started to back away, and Elizabeth could see his confederate join him on the run.

  “They’re going,” Elizabeth told Jane with a sigh of relief. “We are safe. I think.” She did not believe the man on horseback meant them harm, not after he had chased away the highwaymen so effectively, but it was wise to remain vigilant.

  Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the carriage. The stranger was already kneeling by the driver.

  “Is he hurt?” Elizabeth asked, suddenly filled with worry for the poor driver.

  “I am fine, miss,” the driver answered for himself. He had a handkerchief to his nose but his face looked thunderous. “It is lucky for them they caught me by surprise. In daylight, I would have given them both a thrashing they’d not soon forget.” He looked at Elizabeth, shamefaced. “I apologise, miss, you never should have been put through this.”

  “Nonsense,” Elizabeth said quickly. “These men were obviously well-trained in their… trade.”

  She turned to the stranger who had come to their rescue. The lanterns from the front of the carriage threw just enough light for her to see that the man, whose back was still toward her, wore a fine, dark blue coat. Whoever he was, he was obviously wealthy.

  “And I think we owe you, sir, a great debt of gratitude.”

  The stranger turned toward her, and she felt her breath catch in her throat. Beneath slightly curled chestnut hair, the man had bright, sharp brown eyes that reflected the lantern light. He had a straight, slightly pointed nose and full lips. His jaw was heavy and his chin had a small cleft. Elizabeth could see the shadow of a beard on his cheeks. She felt herself blush, noting that the man was very handsome. And not from around Meryton—she certainly would have remembered him.

  “I repeat your reaction,” the man answered, his eyes boring into hers. “Nonsense.”

  Elizabeth smiled slightly, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

  The stranger’s face turned to concern. “Are you well?” He asked. “And your companion?” Elizabeth turned and saw that Jane had poked her head out of the carriage, and was watching the exchange.

  “Yes, thank you,” Elizabeth answered. “But I do not know that we would be without your intervention. Again, I say, we are indebted to you.”

  “And, again, I must disagree,” the stranger said, his face relaxing upon Elizabeth’s confirmation of health. “However, I think it unwise to remain here. Those ruffians may have friends nearby. We must move before they decide to come back this way.”

  He stood and Elizabeth saw that he was tall, very tall, at least six feet. And a couple of inches, she thought. He would tower over her if they stood side by side. Elizabeth shook her head, why was she noticing such things at a time like this? She hoped her mind would clear soon, for she did not believe their night was over yet.

  Chapter 2

  Darcy

  Darcy turned to help the coachman to his feet, his head still spinning with the activity of the last few minutes. When he had decided to come into Hertfordshire, he had never expected to meet highwaymen along the road—the King’s justice usually worked well to discourage such things. But he was exceedingly glad that he had stumbled upon the robbery when he did.

  Though, he thought to himself, there was little doubt that the fiery woman in front of him would have thought of something. She had already proved herself to be exceptionally courageous, and her eyes sparkled with intelligence.

  “Thank you, sir,” the driver said humbly, taking a step towards the front of the carriage. He stumbled and Darcy caught him before he could fall back to the ground.

  “Are you certain you are well?” the woman asked, worried.

  “I am fine,” the driver said stubbornly. Darcy admired the man’s determination, but he could see that the man was not up for the rigours of driving a team of four in the dark. He glanced towards the women, first to the beautiful blonde still inside the carriage, then to the one standing before him. He made his choice without hesitation.

  “I’ll drive,” he said. “I can tie my horse to the back of the carriage.”

  “We couldn’t possibly intrude upon your generosity further,” the woman said, her cheeks flushing.

  “There is no reason to trouble yourself, sir,” the driver said at the same time, but Darcy held up his hand, and both fell silent.

  “I had intended to accompany you anyway, at least until the next village,” he said. “These roads are hardly safe, and it would bring the utmost dishonour upon me to allow you to go off into danger once more.”

  The woman turned and looked at her sister, moved her eyes back to the driver, his face a mass of bruises, and bit her lip, obviously thinking. Darcy could sense her internal battle with her pride, and understood the battle well.

  “Are you saying, sir,” she asked slowly, a smile playing upon her lips, “that it would be unwise to travel alone this night?”

  Darcy felt a smile twitch upon his own lips—if this was the logic she needed to accept his help, he would allow it.

  “Indeed,” he said with a bow. “I would appreciate the company as well.”

  “In that case, we accept,” she said, returning his bow with a curtsy. “With gratitude. I suppose introductions are necessary. I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and this is my sister Miss Jane Bennet.”

  “Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy,” he replied with another bow. “Are you headed to Meryton?” Darcy asked, helping the coachman onto the driver’s seat—it was large enough for them both to sit comfortably. “I stopped for dinner at an inn a few miles back and they said Meryton was the next town. As that is my destination—well, near there—I decided to press on.”

  “We live on an estate just a mile outside of Meryton, called Longbourn,” Miss Elizabeth Bennet said, her eyes following the activity.

  Darcy was surprised. By their clothing, he had thought the women were
the daughters of merchants or tradesmen. He had not expected they were a gentleman’s daughters.

  Not a prosperous estate, he thought to himself.

  “The inn made no mention of highwaymen,” Darcy said, not wanting to dwell upon his previous thoughts.

  “No,” Miss Elizabeth replied. “No, Hertfordshire has been free of such bandits for years. Well, had been free. Apparently, lawlessness once again threatens our roads.” She shivered and rubbed her arms. “I just do not understand!” She said, her anger flaring. “The militia is posted in Meryton even now. I would think that the officers, if not the magistrate, would keep these brutes away!”

  The coachman settled firmly on the seat, and Darcy turned to face the woman. Despite the anger in her voice, he could see the fear in her eyes. She was brave, of that there was no doubt, but the episode had still affected her.

  “Officers,” he said, his own mouth twisted in distaste, “are not a guarantee of safety. They are not all the honourable men they pretend to be.”

  One particular officer, a despicable man called Wickham, was responsible for this particular opinion. However, Darcy did not concern himself about including other officers in his opinion. The militia had a poor reputation in general, and it was well-earned.

  Miss Elizabeth nodded, but Darcy could not tell if she nodded because she agreed or because she did not know what to say. He shook his head. He did not like to think about Wickham.