Chapter Eleven #4
Mr. Darcy nodded, and then, before Elizabeth knew what he was about, he had lifted her up by the waist once more, depositing her in the carriage and then climbing up beside her.
As soon as the door was closed, they were instantly in motion, and quickly attained a rigorous pace as they sped down the front drive, toward the Meryton road.
Seated at her side, his eyes fixed on the small rear-facing window, Mr. Darcy boldly and deliberately took hold of Elizabeth’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
Nobody spoke until Wilson rapped three times on the carriage, indicating three men in pursuit.
Then they all breathed a collective sigh of relief, not only because the bandits had taken the bait, but because Captain Denny was still with them.
His duplicity had not yet been discovered, which must be to their advantage.
Elizabeth slumped backward, suddenly exhausted as she began to relax.
And then, as the reality of all that had transpired struck her, she began to burble with laughter.
She had assaulted multiple officers her mother would have happily seen her wed to, released belligerent livestock in the house, destroyed family heirlooms older than her father, and actually jumped out of the attic window.
Her giddiness went on until Mrs. Annesley and then Georgiana joined her in the cathartic release.
Mr. Darcy remained serious, his gaze fixed on the rear window, but he released Elizabeth’s hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer.
His countenance was severe, and yet she could detect raw emotion in his expression; she had come to know him so very well these last few days, and she laid her head on his shoulder, letting him protect her.
Georgiana shivered, drew a blanket around herself, and clung to Mrs. Annesley. She smiled at the sight of her brother’s unfettered affection for Elizabeth, which was entirely reciprocated. Yet fear still shaded the girl’s eyes. “What if they start shooting at us?”
“They would have to gain on us considerably, else it would be a waste of bullets. Even then, it is dark, we are in motion, and they are, too. Their accuracy will be significantly diminished. Captain Denny may be able to subdue them; if not, we will shoot back.” Mr. Darcy pulled back his coat to reveal his pistol.
Laughing once more, Elizabeth pulled a tiny purse gun out of her bodice. “I found it when we raided the attic,” she said. “Johnny tested it for me, and said it worked well enough, though there were only four bullets left.”
Mr. Darcy did not laugh out loud, though his chest rumbled with mirth; Elizabeth could feel it as she clung to him.
The carriage shifted as they turned onto the road that would take them south to London, toward where Colonel Fitzwilliam and his men were hastening north to apprehend the villains.
He opened his pocket watch, and the trace of a smile played across his face in the moonlight. “It is nearly nine o’clock.”
They lapsed into silence again, for how long Elizabeth was not sure.
They were simply waiting for something to happen, and then a shot rang out.
There were several voices shouting, some behind them and some from the other direction.
Elizabeth saw the moment Georgiana recognized her cousin’s deep, booming voice, for the girl instantly perked up and grinned. “We are saved!”
The carriage turned again, stopping in a small clearing along the side of the road. Three more shots rang out in rapid succession, followed by more raised voices. They felt the carriage jostle as Wilson leapt down from the driver’s seat. Through the window, he motioned for them to stay inside.
Mr. Darcy heaved a great sigh of relief, closing his eyes as he continued to hold Elizabeth. “If we were in danger, he would have told us to run.”
“Oh. Good,” Elizabeth said, yawning.
A few minutes later, there was a knock on the carriage door, and then Colonel Fitzwilliam opened it. “Good evening,” he said with a sweeping bow. “It is perfectly safe, if you would care to behold the fruits of your endeavor.”
Georgiana’s eyes went wide and she offered him her hand; he helped her down from the carriage and then turned to assist Elizabeth.
A moment later, Mr. Darcy stepped down and stood behind the two women, resting a hand on each of their shoulders as they took in the rewarding spectacle.
A pair of soldiers had clapped Forster and Wickham in irons and now led them to another carriage.
The two criminals looked up and sneered at the foes who had defeated them, before being shoved roughly forward by their new captors.
This was enough to satisfy Elizabeth, and she squeezed Georgiana’s hand, knowing it must mean a great deal to the girl, to see the man who had wronged her so deeply brought to justice at last. Georgiana smiled sadly at Elizabeth, giving a single nod of her head as a peaceful expression washed over her.
On Elizabeth’s other side, Colonel Fitzwilliam was grinning like the cat that caught the canary. He waved at Wickham, saluted the other colonel, and called out, “Happy Christmas, you filthy animals!”