Chapter Twenty-Two #3
Darcy inclined his head. "Good luck, Elizabeth."
"And to you," she breathed.
They separated, the ladies continuing in the same direction while Darcy led the gentlemen back in search of their next token.
The encounter had cost them only a few moments, but Amelia's ankle made every turn slower. Twice they heard distant shouts from the gentlemen and once the sound of cheering, and Harriet began shifting restlessly at their slow pace. Elizabeth shot her a quelling look and continued to aid Amelia.
Their final clue led them into the oldest part of the maze, where the paths were narrower and the yew roots had lifted the ground into uneven ridges.
A footman waited beside a stone bench upon which four spaces had been marked.
Beside them lay four carved wooden symbols: an eye, a bow, a lyre and a laughing mask.
A card instructed them to place the days of the Challenge in their proper order.
"We have not yet reached the centre," Harriet said. "This must be the final token."
Clara and Miss Drummond bent over the pieces, but it was Amelia who spoke first. "The eye must come first for observation and logic, followed by the bow for sporting prowess."
"The lyre for artistic merit," said Miss Lacey.
"And the mask for wit," Lady Frances finished.
They placed the four symbols in order. The footman inspected their work, then bowed. "Correct."
He handed Elizabeth the fifth ribboned token and pointed them towards the path leading to the centre. Harriet let out a triumphant cry.
"Stay together," Elizabeth reminded them.
The ladies moved as quickly as Amelia could manage, calling the turns and retracing them whenever Clara or Mrs Cartwright warned that they had begun circling back.
The noise beyond the hedges grew louder.
Somewhere outside, the spectators had begun shouting, though the maze prevented Elizabeth from knowing for what or whom.
At last the path opened into a circular clearing near the centre of the maze. Two footmen waited beneath the shade of the yews, each standing behind a small wooden table upon which rested a polished box lined with red velvet.
All ten ladies entered together, Amelia still supported between Jane and Lady Frances. The nearer footman counted them before taking the five purple-ribboned tokens from Elizabeth and placing them carefully inside the box.
"Five tokens and ten competitors. You have completed the maze and may choose your runner."
He drew out a square of purple silk, folded into a broad band. Every face turned towards Harriet, whose usual eagerness was briefly replaced by a look of startled concentration.
Elizabeth beckoned her forwards. "I have every confidence in you," she murmured to the unusually quiet girl.
She had only begun tying the silk around Harriet's upper arm when the sound of men's voices reached them.
A moment later Darcy led the gentlemen into the clearing, all ten present and several breathing hard from their hurried progress.
Mr Ashcombe looked particularly displeased, though whether with the maze or his companions Elizabeth could not tell.
The second footman immediately began counting them as Darcy emptied five blue-ribboned tokens into the other velvet-lined box.
"Ready," Elizabeth said, securing the final knot.
Harriet drew a steadying breath and moved towards the narrow passage marked by a strip of purple cloth. The footman stepped aside to release her, but before she entered the path she glanced back towards the gentlemen.
James Blackwood had already been chosen and Darcy was tying the blue silk firmly around his arm while Colonel Fitzwilliam urged him to make haste.
Harriet grinned. "Do try to keep up, Mr Blackwood."
"You need not concern yourself with me, Miss Harriet."
The footman directed Harriet into the passage. "Follow the purple markers until you leave the maze. The white post will be directly ahead. The first runner to take the crimson ribbon wins the Challenge."
Harriet set off at once.
James was released only moments later, disappearing into the neighbouring passage before the sound of Harriet's footsteps had faded.
A cheer rose from the ladies, quickly answered by the gentlemen.
Elizabeth turned towards Darcy and found him watching the two openings through which the runners had vanished.
There was determination in his expression, but none of the severity with which he had regarded her at the beginning of the week.
He glanced at her. "A narrow lead."
"Still a lead," she shot back.
"So it is," he said, tracing one finger lightly down her cheek. "Though I find I am considerably less troubled by the prospect of losing than I ought to be."
They both looked towards the distant lawn as another roar rose from the spectators beyond the maze.
Elizabeth wanted the ladies to win. She wanted it fiercely enough that her hands had curled into fists at her sides.
But when Darcy met her eyes again, the possibility of losing to him no longer seemed quite the calamity it once had.