Chapter 30
Darkness pressed heavily against Elizabeth’s eyelids.
For a long moment she could not remember where she was, or even why she felt so strange. Her body seemed to belong to someone else—distant, sluggish, unresponsive to the faint commands her mind attempted to send.
Something throbbed behind her eyes.
Her cheek burned.
Memory flickered faintly.
Mary’s hand.
The tea.
The letter.
Darcy.
Elizabeth tried to move.
Nothing happened.
Her limbs felt heavy, as though the bed itself had grown around her and would not release her.
Panic stirred weakly in her chest.
She forced herself to concentrate—to claw her way upward through the thick fog clouding her thoughts.
It was night.
She knew that much.
The darkness pressing through her closed eyelids felt deeper than sleep. The house around her seemed quiet… yet not entirely.
Somewhere nearby, something moved.
A dull sound.
Another.
It might have been footsteps.
Or perhaps voices.
Elizabeth could not tell.
The pounding in her head made every sound blur together strangely, as though the world itself had been muffled by the same heavy veil that held her captive.
She struggled again to open her eyes.
Her lashes fluttered weakly but refused to lift.
The darkness surged again, threatening to pull her back down.
Then—
A louder sound.
A sharp thud.
Voices—perhaps.
Someone speaking.
Or shouting.
Elizabeth could not distinguish the words.
Her heart fluttered faintly, hope stirring through the haze.
Someone is here.
She tried again to move, to call out.
Her lips parted slightly, but no sound emerged.
The drug still clung to her mind like chains.
Another crash sounded somewhere below.
Or perhaps it was inside her own head.
Elizabeth could not tell.
The blackness thickened again, tugging at her consciousness.
She fought it desperately.
Stay awake.
But the effort felt like swimming through deep water.
The room seemed to tilt and drift.
Her thoughts scattered like frightened birds.
Only one remained clear.
One name.
With the last thread of awareness she possessed, Elizabeth whispered silently into the darkness:
Fitzwilliam…
Please.
Save me.
For a moment—just a moment—she felt something strange.
Movement.
As though the world had fallen away beneath her.
Or perhaps she herself was rising.
Flying.
Then the darkness rushed back.
And Elizabeth remembered nothing more.
∞∞∞
Darcy was halfway to the Netherfield front door when Richard caught his arm. “You cannot simply arrive at Longbourn at this time of night,” the colonel said sharply.
Darcy turned on him. “Elizabeth may be drugged and carried away within the hour. I will not stand here discussing it like a parliamentary debate.”
Richard did not release him. “And if you arrive with no plan?” he said evenly. “What then?”
Darcy opened his mouth—and stopped. The question struck where reason lived, not where panic burned.
Against every instinct urging him to run—to reach Elizabeth before she vanished from his life forever—the rational part of his mind forced its way forward.
If he found her…
What then?
He could ride on horseback faster than in a carriage, but how would he move her to safety?
Drape her unconscious form across the front of his horse?
Even if she were alert, it was not as if he had a pillion saddle so she could ride behind him—never mind the fact that it would not be safe nor quick, especially in the dark.
This is not some fictional romance novel of Georgiana’s, man! Use your wits!
He exhaled sharply. “You are right,” he said hoarsely, changing direction and heading towards the drawing room.
The household had altered in the few minutes since Charlotte’s arrival. Georgiana had been sent upstairs to bed earlier, though Darcy suspected she would not sleep. The Hursts had withdrawn quietly, leaving the crisis to the family.
Only four people remained: Richard, Bingley, himself, and Lady Anne.
She sat very straight in her chair, Elizabeth’s letter resting in her lap. Her face had gone pale, but Darcy recognized the effort she made to remain present despite the fear that must have seized her.
He felt a deep surge of gratitude for her.
Richard began to strategize immediately. “First question—has Miss Elizabeth reached her majority?”
Darcy shook his head. “No. She is twenty.”
“Then legally she is still under her father’s authority,” Richard said grimly.
Darcy clenched his jaw.
“But I possess the common license,” he added quickly. “And the marriage settlements have been signed.”
“That helps,” Richard said.
They fell silent for a moment.
“If she has been drugged,” Bingley said slowly, “we cannot take her far. Scotland would be impossible.”
Darcy nodded. “Gretna Green is too distant in her condition, so an elopement is out of the question.”
“Then we must consider where we might hide her,” Richard said.
“London?” Bingley suggested.
Darcy shook his head immediately. “The house there would be the first place I searched. Pemberley as well.”
“But she has relatives there,” Bingley responded. “Maybe the Gardiners—”
“Too obvious,” Richard interrupted.
They all fell quiet again for several minutes, then Lady Anne spoke. “Perhaps… Kent?”
Three heads turned toward her. “Rosings,” she added softly. “My sister, Catherine, is there.”
The room went very still.
Lady Anne shrank slightly beneath their sudden attention.
“Perhaps it is foolish,” she said quickly. “I only thought—if a betrothed wished to hide a girl from her family… sending her to the sister of the betrothed’s stepmother might not be a connection they would make.”
Richard leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Aunt Anne,” he said warmly, “you are brilliant.”
She flushed at once. “I was only attempting to think in the opposite direction of London, Derbyshire, and Scotland,” she said modestly. “Somewhere southern that would not immediately appear connected to Darcy.”
Darcy’s mind raced.
Kent. Rosings. Lady Catherine.
It would indeed take time before anyone suspected such a place.
“Yes,” he said slowly. “Yes, that might delay discovery long enough.”
He rose abruptly.
“Lady Anne, pack what you can of your belongings and Georgiana’s.”
She blinked.
“You mean to take us with you?”
“I will not leave you at Netherfield without protection,” Darcy said firmly. “If I must leave to retrieve Elizabeth, you must come with me.”
Lady Anne nodded at once. “And it preserves a degree of propriety,” she added quietly.
Richard stood. “I will go with you as well, of course.”
Darcy did not argue.
“Are you taking the ladies with you to Longbourn tonight, then?” Bingley asked.
Darcy hesitated. “It would take too long to wait for them to gather the things they need,” he said at last. “Besides, if they accompany us, it may place them in danger.”
“But returning for them later could cost precious time,” Richard said.
Bingley suddenly straightened. “I have it.”
They turned to him.
“The Hursts’ carriage can take Lady Anne and Georgiana to a coaching inn,” he said. “Send them with the maids, Darcy’s valet, and two footmen.”
“They will be safe there,” Richard said slowly.
“And,” Bingley continued with growing confidence, “I shall remain here.”
Darcy frowned. “You?”
“Yes. If anyone questions me, I can truthfully say I never left Netherfield and know nothing of your current whereabouts.”
Richard snorted. “Bingley, no offense, but your ability to lie is as nonexistent as dignity in a pig wallow.”
“And what would you know about pig wallows?” retorted Bingley, looking pleased with himself for his bit of wit.
Darcy hesitated, ignoring the squabble. “I dislike deceit.”
Bingley lifted his chin. “In this case Mr. Bennet began the deception,” he said. “This is defense, not dishonesty. I have no qualms in stating half-truths about this matter.”
Darcy nodded slowly. “Very well.”
He began to make his way to the door once again, but he was stopped—yet again—with the voice of reason, this time in the form of Lady Anne.
“But what about your wedding tomorrow, Mr. Bingley?”
All three men froze and stared at one another with wide eyes.
In the chaos, they had forgotten entirely.
Bingley blinked. “Jane… I imagine she will wish to delay it, as her sister will not be present.”
Darcy shook his head. “No. The wedding must proceed.”
Bingley stared at him. “What?”
“It will buy us time,” Darcy said firmly. “Mrs. Bennet would never allow Mr. Bennet to miss his daughter’s wedding. Appearances must be preserved.”
Richard nodded. “And gossip would destroy the other Bennet girls if the wedding collapsed.”
Bingley frowned. “But what if Mr. Bennet forbids it?”
“The banns have been read,” Darcy reminded him, “and Miss Bennet is of age.”
Bingley ran a hand through his hair. “Jane will not wish to disobey her father.”
Lady Anne spoke quietly. “If I may be so bold… as a woman who once found herself in a difficult position.”
They looked at her, and Darcy gave her a nod of encouragement.
“A gentle woman like Miss Bennet,” she continued, “will find courage when she believes she is protecting someone she loves.”
Darcy nodded. “I will attempt to tell her,” he said, “but you might wish to entrust a servant with a note to only be put into her hands.”
Bingley sighed. “Once she knows it helps Elizabeth, she will agree.”
Richard clapped him on the back. “Congratulations, Bingley, on your upcoming nuptials. We will be sorry to miss them.”
Bingley returned the gesture. “Thank you. Be safe, the two of you.”
Moments later Darcy was striding upstairs. He entered his chamber and found his valet already moving briskly about the room, laying out his nightclothes and shaking out the wedding clothing to be pressed.
“Bates,” Darcy said, “you have fifteen minutes. Pack what is necessary, and then you are leaving with Lady Anne and Georgiana.”
The valet paused only briefly. “Very good, sir.”
Then, with careful hesitation, he asked, “May I inquire… does this mean Miss Elizabeth has cried off?”