by Louise, Kara
Darcy looked up and waited for Foster to continue, although he was not particularly sure he wanted to hear what he had to say.
“We have Lockerly, but we do not know who helped him escape the last time, and we think they may try again.”
Darcy looked from Foster to the captain and back to Foster with a questioning look. “He should be secure in the hands of the British Navy. Captain Newton said so himself.”
Foster clasped his hands tightly together, bringing them down onto the table. “Oh, he will be, but I should like to arrest those who were involved in the escape last time.” He took in a deep breath and said, “There is just one more thing I would like you to do.”
*~*~*
Elizabeth’s heart sank as the carriage conveyed them away from the dock. She had searched futilely for Mr. Darcy and could only conjecture he did not wish to be found by her. She looked out the window, scanning the harbour one last time to see if she could spot him. Her heart was heavy; she knew it was futile to think that he might have feelings for her still. Yet she could not dismiss the way in which he had treated her all the while she thought he was Captain Smith.
Both her father and cousin had been anxious to return to the comfort and refuge of the Clowers’ home and did not wish to remain a moment longer than was necessary. They were disappointed they could not personally thank Mr. Darcy, but he was nowhere to be seen. As the arrangements were being made to secure a carriage to take them to their relatives’ home, they had sent a message ahead informing them they were returning and would explain all once they arrived.
They had also sent letters home, one to the Gardiners and one to Longbourn. They chose merely to tell them that a storm had thwarted their plans to sail back to London and they would attempt to make the journey again in a day or two – by way of Portsmouth. From there, they would take a carriage to Brighton, pick up Lydia, and then travel by road the remainder of the way to London. It would take longer, but Mr. Bennet had had his fill of sailing. A shorter journey at sea was much preferable. A final letter was written to Lydia, in care of the Forsters, informing her to be ready to travel home with them in about three or four days.
Once the harbour was out of her sight, Elizabeth looked over at David, whose eyes were bright as he talked with Mr. Bennet about how much Melanie would enjoy the stories of their adventure. He laughed as he said, “I believe, at first, she probably will not believe any of it, but then she will become so envious of our adventure, that she will likely wish she could have been a part of it!”
Elizabeth tried to smile, but felt a heavy weight upon her. Much like an anchor that holds the ship in place against the battering waves in a storm, she felt as though it would be difficult for her to move forward as her emotions continued to pound against her.
When they arrived back at the Clowers’ home and told them briefly what had happened, the conversation rose steadily to an uproar as questions were asked, every detail and sentiment related, and each different perspective shared.
David was correct about Melanie’s response. She listened with rapt attention and responded in disbelief. This was followed by heartfelt sighs, saying how much she envied them for their adventure and wished she had been with them. She teasingly expressed resentment that despite having lived all her life in a place known for pirates, she had yet to see one.
Elizabeth retired early that night, looking forward to her first good night’s sleep in two days. She longed to be home, but it would still be nearly a week before she would be able to enjoy the solitude and sanctuary of her own room at Longbourn. It could not come soon enough.
*~*~*
At first light the next morning, Darcy, still dressed as a pirate, set out with Foster on a small ship to Portsmouth. Foster made sure word was spread that Lockerly was being transported from the port, then on through Brighton, and finally to London. The plan was to travel the exact route Lockerly had travelled when he was boldly snatched out of their hands the last time. That time they had not been ready. This time they would be, and it was Darcy who was going to be in the carriage, not Lockerly.
They made the crossing from St. Mary’s to England’s mainland without any difficulty, and Darcy was hurried away to a waiting carriage. He was handcuffed, to ensure the appearance of him actually being the captured pirate.
As the two men began their journey towards Brighton, Foster removed the cuffs that bound Darcy’s wrists. He stretched out his arms in front of him and opened and closed his fists. He enjoyed this bit of freedom, as they would be replaced at the first sign of something unusual. Seven men followed at a short distance on horseback and in an additional carriage. If anything happened, they easily would be able to capture those involved in the escape attempt.
Darcy leaned back in the seat and looked out the window, his arms tightly crossed. Foster had done it again, and he was just as angry with him now as he had been a few days back. Darcy’s jaw tightened as he recollected Foster informing him that there was just one more thing he wanted him to do. He had agreed, however, when Foster told him his crew would receive the highest commendation and even greater prize money for their efforts on behalf of the Crown if they were successful in apprehending the culprits.
Darcy propped his elbow up at the window and rubbed his forehead between his brows. He mumbled, “I hope you know what you are doing.”
Foster glanced over at him. “There is nothing for you to worry about, Darcy. The driver and I are both armed, but we plan to readily release you into the hands of anyone attempting to set you free, to lessen the chance of bloodshed.” Foster looked at Darcy pointedly. “You, of course, have no reason to fear, as they believe you are Lockerly. Rest easy.”
“I assure you, Foster, I will not rest easy until I am safely back in London.”
Darcy rubbed his chin and let out a groan when his fingers tangled in his beard. He was tired of the disguise and wanted nothing more than to return to London. He looked forward to a good shave and bath before he did anything else. He had already written his valet requesting him to return to his house in London. He had also sent a quick letter off to Georgiana, asking that she come to London at her earliest convenience. He was anxious to see her.
They were about an hour outside of Brighton when the driver of the carriage called out. “I think this is it! On the left! Get ready!”
Darcy and Foster looked out the window, seeing a young lady waving a handkerchief. She was lying on the ground holding her ankle, as if she were injured.
“Ahh,” said Foster. “Very cunning. A young lady in distress.” Turning to Darcy, he said, “This may be nothing, but we shall put the handcuffs on you just in case.”
Darcy reluctantly agreed, placing his wrists together in front of him so Foster could snap them on.
“You shall likely be on your own for a short time in the carriage. Could be others hiding up ahead. We shall follow close enough so we will not lose you, but far enough back that we won’t be seen.”
The carriage came to a stop, and Foster and the driver hopped down.
They walked over to the young lady. Darcy watched as they bent over to talk to her.
From out of the bushes came the sound of gunshots, and Foster and the driver put their hands up quickly in mock surrender. A man rushed out, grabbing the girl by the hand and pulling her up. They both rushed to the carriage.
Darcy’s heart pounded as he watched the scene unfold outside the window. He tightened his fists, hoping they would not realize he was not Lockerly. But he hoped to a greater degree that the men on horseback would arrive in time to make an arrest before these two evaded them!
He turned his head to the door as it opened.
“Get in, quickly!” a voice ordered. The man shot the gun wildly into the air. Foster and the driver stood unmoving with their hands in the air.
Once the girl was in, the man looked up and smiled. Darcy’s eyes widened as he looked into the face of George Wickham!
“You’re safe now, Lockerly!” Wickham’
s eyes were wide and his voice shook. “Your friends are waiting for you just up the road!”
Darcy was grateful Wickham had not recognized him, but he was sickened at the thought that his onetime childhood friend had stooped to such depravity. Yet he was fairly certain the man was not acting brazenly. He was terrified. Wickham jumped up to the driver’s seat, taking the reins and setting off.
Darcy turned back to the young lady who now sat across from him. She was looking down at her hands, and the brim of her bonnet covered her face. He stared at her, wondering what sort of young lady would agree to do such a thing!
“This was so much fun, but I hated having to get down in the dirt!” she said laughingly as she wiped her hands. She let out a huff as she fluffed her dress about, looking for smudges.
When the young lady looked up, Darcy had a second shock in as many minutes. He had to restrain himself from calling out her name. It was Elizabeth’s sister, Lydia! His jaw tightened as he considered what this meant. She met his glance with a raised brow.
“Pray, excuse my dirty dress,” she said as she began to wipe away some dirt. “George told me I had to make it appear as if I were really in distress. I do believe I did a splendid job!” She bounced on the seat and gave a nod of her head.
Darcy had to loosen his jaw to speak. “Do you know who I am?”
Lydia lowered her brows and tilted her head. “No, but I should like to find out!” She let out a flirtatious laugh and looked down demurely at her hands, which she quickly folded.
“So… George… did not tell you anything about me?”
Lydia shook her head. “I don’t think he knew anything about you. He only told me he was doing a favour for some friends… well, I don’t think they were real friends… I think he owed them money. He just said he desperately needed my help to get someone out of the hands of some ruthless people.”
Darcy raised his brows. “Ruthless people? So that is what he told you?”
Lydia nodded. “I think George was so brave to do this! There are a lot of wicked people in this world. Why would someone hold you like they did?” She leaned towards him, her eyes wide, and she whispered, “Were you kidnapped? Did they want a ransom?”
Darcy shook his head at this naïve and foolish young girl. “Do you see my hands?” Darcy asked, lifting up his arms to show her his cuffed wrists.
“La!” she exclaimed. “These men certainly did not mean for you to get away! I don’t think George has a key to open them, but maybe your friends do.”
Darcy knew that Lydia could face a severe punishment for her participation in this crime. Perhaps even death. He hoped he could find out more about this scheme before the authorities stopped Wickham. He let out an incensed huff. He would leave Wickham to fend for himself.
“Do you know who these men are that Wick… that George owes money to?”
She shook her head. “No, but I think they were kind to forgive his debts, don’t you? And I think they are going to give him a reward, as well.”
Darcy debated what to tell Lydia. He did not want her to know who he was, but he desperately wished to teach the foolish girl a lesson. “Did you ever consider,” he said leaning towards her with a piercing gaze, “that I might be wearing these handcuffs because I am the ruthless one, and I was being transported to gaol by the police?”
Lydia’s face drained of all colour. She tried to smile, but it appeared she could not. “George would not do something like that!”
The sound of horses’ hooves pummelling towards them prompted Darcy to nod at the window. “The authorities will not look kindly on what you and your friend have done. I suggest you tell them everything you know and perhaps they will go easy on you.”
The carriage came to a halt, and several men on horseback surrounded it. Foster ordered Wickham to drop his pistol, put his hands up in the air, and step down. “If you try anything stupid, we’ll shoot you without a second thought!”
Another carriage pulled up and stopped alongside theirs. Darcy and Lydia watched as Wickham was handcuffed. She turned back to Darcy, her eyes filled with fear. “This cannot be happening!”
The door to Darcy’s carriage was thrown open, and Lydia drew back with a cry, recoiling from the two men reaching in for her.
“Come, ye little pest!” One of the men grabbed her by the wrists to pull her out, as she tried to wrestle from his grip. She was not strong enough, however, and the two men were easily able to extricate her. Darcy watched as they took her to the waiting carriage. At least she was helped into it a little more politely than Wickham had been.
Darcy’s insides writhed as he considered Lydia’s plight and what this would mean for the Bennet family. He slowly climbed out of the carriage and called Foster over.
“We got them!” Foster said. “Thanks, Darcy. I owe you a great deal.”
Darcy shook his head. “You did not catch the ones truly responsible. These two were merely doing the bidding of the real culprits. They were going to take me to them. You need to find out where those men are.”
Foster narrowed his eyes. “Are you certain?”
Darcy nodded. “I am. And Foster, I have a favour to ask of you since you do owe me a great deal.”
“Certainly. What is it?”
Darcy blew out a frustrated puff of air. “I shall tell you, but first, would you kindly remove these handcuffs?”
Chapter 22
There were innumerable emotions two days later as Elizabeth, her father, and cousin set off for the docks at St. Mary’s to make the return voyage to the mainland of England. It had not been easy to say goodbye to their loved ones a second time. Staying with the Clowers had been a well-needed respite, and yet while being asked again and again about their adventure, their only thought now was to return home. David had visited the local doctor, who felt that his arm had not been broken, but still needed to be kept wrapped up for another day or two, to insure its complete healing.
While there was much anticipation to finally reach London, the dread of another sea voyage loomed over them, particularly Mr. Bennet. They were all grateful for the shorter journey.
They were thankful for the beautiful sunny day as they boarded the sailing vessel. If the winds remained favourable, they would reach their destination at the port of Plymouth by day’s end.
As they sailed across the shimmering blue waters, Elizabeth remained on deck, enjoying the warmth of the sun. Her thoughts were somewhere else, however, as a myriad of emotions were a constant reminder to her of how she had begun to feel about Mr. Darcy, from the small tingles that rippled through her to the deepest warmth that made her feel as though she might melt.
She kept watch for that first sign of land, and by late afternoon she was rewarded with the sight. She, her father, and David breathed a sigh of relief as the ship finally pulled into the dock just before twilight. As they made arrangements to spend the night at a nearby inn, a beautiful sunset welcomed them home.
*~*~*
Another day and a half of travel brought them to Brighton. Travelling by carriage was certainly not as quick, nor as pleasant for the body, as one was confined in a small space for hours on end. It was more reliable, however, and while there was always the possibility of being waylaid by accident, a break down, or even highwaymen, they were pleased that their journey to Brighton was tediously uneventful.
As they made their way through the town to the Forsters’ address, they began to see more and more redcoats walking about. Elizabeth kept her eyes to the window, wondering if she would recognize any of the soldiers who had been in Meryton. She let out a sigh as she concluded Lydia would have certainly had her share of dances, balls, and parties these past few weeks.
The carriage pulled up and stopped in front of a modest home. As they waited for the door to be opened, Mr. Bennet looked at Elizabeth and David, a single brow raised. “What say you that we do not tell Lydia, her sisters, and especially Mrs. Bennet about Lizzy being held captive by pirates? I suppose there is no way we can
avoid telling them about the pirates attacking the ship, but let us not allow Mrs. Bennet the delight of imagining that we were in the gravest danger.” He sat up as the driver came to the door. “She need only know that we were safely locked up in the bowels of the ship as our crew victoriously fought off the pirate’s crew.” They all agreed, and the door was opened so they could step out.
“I hope Lydia will be ready to leave with us and not squabble about it,” Elizabeth said. “You know how stubborn she can be!”
“Is Lydia stubborn?” Mr. Bennet asked with a laugh. “I cannot imagine why you would say that, Lizzy!”
David looked at Elizabeth quizzically. “I have not heard much about this sister. Is there anything I need to know?”
Elizabeth’s curls bounced about her face as she gave a quick shake of her head. “I beg you, David, please do not take her behaviour to be an example of that of the rest of our family.”
“Come, come now, Lizzy. Is she that bad?” Mr. Bennet turned to David. “She is young and a bit immature, but she shall outgrow it.”
David nodded his head at Mr. Bennet, but gave Elizabeth a sympathetic smile.
They came up to the door and knocked. It was opened, and they were brought into a small parlour, where Colonel Forster greeted them. “Welcome! Come in, we have been expecting you.”
Mrs. Forster was there as well. After she greeted her guests, she walked to the back of the room wringing her hands, a worried expression on her pale face.
Mr. Bennet introduced David to the Forsters. When Mr. Forster did not seem inclined to say anything, he said, “I hope my daughter was not too much trouble during her stay!”
The look between Mr. and Mrs. Forster did not go unnoticed. “Please, sit down.”
They sat down, and when the Forsters said nothing more, Elizabeth asked, “Is something amiss? Where is Lydia?”
Mr. Forster, who was still standing, came up to them, his hands tightly clasped together. “Something of a most unexpected and rather… dreadful nature has occurred.”
