Chapter 51
CHAPTER 51
A n elderly butler was shocked when a pounding started on the door of the castle. He opened it, prepared to soundly chastise whoever it was for disturbing the peace so late at night. The lady he served slept but little, but that was no excuse to disturb her. He was shocked to open the door to find one whom he had not seen in twenty years, perfectly preserved, before him.
“ Gather everyone and ready her carriages. She is no longer safe here ,” the comte said to the man in French.
“ They know ?” gasped the butler in the same language.
“ The French know, and a landing party shall breach these shores within the hour ,” the comte answered, “ She must go north at once. She can hide in London for a time before she moves again .” Anyone could hide in London if they knew how. The city was teeming with people, all too busy with their own lives to take much note of others. The butler showed him to a small parlour before leaving to attend to the comte’s order. A beautiful, graceful woman, still stunning despite her age, occupied a chair before the fire.
“ If you insist upon refusing to age, comte, the least you can do is stay away from those who must ,” said the lady. “ It is rude to turn up as fresh as a daisy to remind me of my age .”
“ Your time here is at an end , madame ,” the comte said. “ You must leave with all haste .”
“ Oh, I am sure it is ,” answered Madame. “ I knew that the moment I heard your voice in the hall. Do not worry, comte. I have been preparing for my flight for some time .”
Elizabeth drew closer to Beachy Head in the darkness. Where was the cave? She crouched in the darkness and listened carefully. Suddenly, out of nowhere, appeared Mr Wickham. Elizabeth waited as the man passed her hiding place in the darkness, and then followed him to a cave that they had seen from afar in their explorations before. They had been told by their guide that day never to approach those caves, for the high tide came in quickly, and if you were taken unawares, one might be trapped in the caves for hours, or worse, during certain times of the year, the tide could be far higher than usual, and one might drown. It had been made very clear to the young ladies and gentlemen of Bourne House that smuggling was very active in the vicinity, and to tour the caves was to put themselves at risk, so none went exploring.
Elizabeth crouched in the entrance to the cave, listening to the echoes of Mr Wickham’s footfalls, attempting to determine to what depth of the cave he was going. She followed, a bit at a time, as she found her bearings in the dark.
“Well Fitz, I suppose we have run short of time,” Wickham said nervously, as Elizabeth listened carefully.
“Wickham, it is not too late to remove yourself from this situation,” Elizabeth heard Darcy say. “Perhaps it is too late for you to prevent whatever is happening tonight, but it is not too late to save yourself from the consequences.”
“I would never escape, Darcy,” Wickham said with certainty.
“We can go straight from here to London. We can acquire horses; I will accompany you to London and obtain passage for you on the next departing ship,” Darcy promised. “Come now; you and I both know that the reason I am still alive is because you have no desire to kill me.”
“Damn you, Darcy!” snarled Wickham. “If you had only given me the living, or let me marry Georgiana, neither of us would be here right now. If only you could have been as generous as your father, none of this would have happened!”
“George, as generous as my father was, we both know that he would never have let you marry Georgie,” said Darcy. “And as far as the living went, if my father had lived to see you take it up, it would have been impossible for you to hide your true self from him forever. If my father had lived, he would have seen you defrocked. Knowing this, how could I possibly have given you the living? You have been on a course to self destruction since we were boys, George. Let me set you on a safer path, please.”
“You do not give a damn about me!” said Wickham scathingly. “You only want to save your own skin.”
“I also want to prevent the friend of my youth from becoming a murderer,” said Darcy. “I have heard from listening that you have already attempted it, at least twice. Do you truly wish to succeed?”
“Well it is too bloody late, is it not?” shouted Wickham in anger. “Look away, Darcy. I do not wish to see your eyes.”
“No,” returned Darcy. “If you want to kill me, you shall have to look me in the eyes as you do it. I will not make it easier for you.”
“Very well then!” Wickham snarled.
“Nooooooooo!” cried Elizabeth as she ran into the cave and shot Wickham.
All three of them looked at one another in shock as blood spread over the shoulder of Wickham’s coat. Elizabeth looked down at the ladies’ double shot derringer that Darcy had given to her before he left for Chichester.
“It is not my place to give you a pistol, since I am not your husband or father,” he had told her. “But Wickham is here somewhere. And I find I cannot go without leaving you with something with which to defend yourself, in case you need it.”
Elizabeth had always been in the habit of insisting that her gowns be made with pockets, even her ball gowns. Sometimes she found it very inconvenient to carry a reticule. She had only done so tonight to carry the blue ribbons. Her pockets and Mr Darcy’s pistol had served her well this evening.
“Elizabeth!’ shouted Darcy in surprise.
“She shot me!” Wickham cried. “Your bloody strumpet shot me!” The man dropped the musket he was holding to reach up and attempt to examine his injury, and Elizabeth darted forward and kicked the weapon away, still pointing her pistol at Wickham.
“Give Darcy the key to those manacles,” Elizabeth demanded of Wickham. “I will shoot you again, I swear it!”
Wickham tossed the keys to Darcy, then collapsed onto his rear, and continued to attempt to examine his shoulder.
Elizabeth rushed to Darcy and helped him unlock the manacles. The poor man could barely stand, such was the pain in his legs from the cruel contraptions, but he rose and threw his arms around Elizabeth.
“Well, well, well. What have we here?” said a gravelly voice. Darcy and Elizabeth whirled about to reveal Mr Huggins, and three rough looking men.
“Leave us alone!” Elizabeth cried. “We have nothing to do with your business, and we have no way to prevent it, so I will thank you to let us pass!”
“I’m sorry, madame , I am afraid I cannot allow it,” laughed Huggins. “You will raise an alarm, and I cannot have that.”
“Even if we did, it sounds as if it is too late to prevent anything. You have no need of us; I refuse to remain.” Elizabeth put her nose in the air and took hold of Darcy’s hand.
“Even if that were true, I cannot allow you to leave,” Huggins said carelessly. Then to Wickham, “Would you get up, you snivelling brat? It is beyond my comprehension how my sister bore a useless idiot like you, boy.”
“So you are his uncle, then,” breathed Darcy. “I had my doubts.”
“I do not care if he is Queen Charlotte’s uncle!” Elizabeth shrieked. “You do not need Darcy, and we are leaving!”
She grasped Darcy’s hand tighter, and suddenly the men with Huggins moved into action, circling the two of them with their swords. Suddenly another man rushed into the room, sword raised.
“Croucher!” Darcy shouted, recognising his uncle’s man at once. Darcy hoped this meant that more help was on the way. Pushing Elizabeth behind a stack of trunks, Darcy picked up a stray sword – the room was filled with weapons of all kinds – and joined Croucher in attacking the men. The men fought, and weak as Darcy was, he fought valiantly, though Elizabeth could see that the matter was hopeless. Soon, the bad men would overtake Mr Darcy and Mr Croucher. She only had one shot left in her pistol, and she must save it for the right moment. She crouched behind the trunks, then spotted the musket that she had kicked away from Mr Wickham.
Elizabeth crawled towards the weapon, but another enormous group of rough men rushed into the room to join the others. She shrank back and hid again as Mr Darcy and Mr Croucher were surrounded.
“Well, if it is not the famous Mr Darcy,” said a high ranking officer, as he entered the cave with the men. Elizabeth did not know what all of his regalia meant, but she thought he might be some sort of general. “You know, half of Sussex has been searching for you. Bad form to make everyone worry.”
“Who the hell are you?” Darcy demanded.
The man ignored the question. “Where the devil is your cousin? It is difficult to pin all of this on the foreign secretary’s son, if he is not here.”
“What does my uncle have to do with this?” Darcy asked
“Everything of course,” the man said. “The French have their purpose here tonight, but I believe we can safely say that neither you, nor I, nor any of the English here would be in this cave tonight if it were not for your filthy uncle!”
“Who are you?” Elizabeth cried. “What do you want?”
“I want to destroy Lord Matlock of course,” the man said scathingly. “I want to chop down his family tree, and make it look as if his own son did it. I want to kill or destroy as many of his loved ones as I possibly can. I want to ruin his life.”
“But why?” said Darcy.
“Because I want him to know how it feels!” the officer cried. “I want him to know what it is like to have everything ripped from him, I want him to feel the pain I have felt, because when it happened to me, he protected those who did it! He let go the men who killed my Marguerite, my child, because they outranked me, and because it would be bad for morale for them to be punished. I want the man who disregarded my pain to feel his mistake the way I felt his mistake!”
The officer turned on Huggins. “When are they coming?” As if his words carried an order, suddenly they heard an explosion from afar.
The sound did not come from the water but from the other direction. It came from the direction of the cliffs, where Elizabeth knew the militia had set up the fireworks display earlier that day.
William Bennet ran. He ran as if he had never run before. He ran at full speed in the direction of the cliffs. His chest burned, his stomach cramped, his legs screamed as he ran, but he never slowed. He blessed his recent weight loss and increased activity, for otherwise, this would never have been possible. Just as he neared the field where the fireworks were prepared, his heart dropped as one of the combustibles flew up into the sky and exploded into light.
“Wait!” He cried as he collapsed in front of the men. “No fireworks! Your colonel said no fireworks!”
“Whatever do you mean, sir!” a young officer asked in surprise as William gasped and heaved on his hands and knees.
“I am come from Lady Amesbury’s ball, there is an emergency!” William breathed, “I do not know what it is, some sort of plot, but your colonel has received an express, and needs all of his men without delay, that is why he sent me! You are to leave the fireworks, and rush to the ball with all haste!”
The young privates immediately turned about and headed in the direction of Lord Amebury’s estate. They had a journey ahead of them, it was on the other side of Eastbourne, and even at a run, it would be at least twenty minutes before they reached it.
William lay on his back and stared at the stars for several moments, then, when he had caught his breath, he rose and began to collect all of the prepared explosives. He carried them all to the edge of the cliffs and threw them off, then turned in the direction of the Martello Tower, and began to head, at a brisk trot, in that direction to see if young Tom Tyler had been successful in his mission.