Elizabeth should have been begging for her life. She should have been blinded by tears, heaving desperate pleas, or trying in vain to cast herself on the ground and out of his power. Instead, an eerie calm settled over her. She would take one final step backward, through the window into darkness, would fall into the embrace of evil but rise to the light.William!
She closed her eyes, strained one more time against the hands that locked her so savagely, and felt herself being pulled back. Then, the crash of a fist sounded, followed by defiant shriek. The painful grip fell away, and there was nothing but William’s arms catching her, drawing her securely to his chest, William’s voice murmuring calm reassurance, and his hands covering her ears, blocking out the death scream of the falling man.
Chapter sixty-seven
DarcycarriedElizabethbelow.She was more than capable of walking, but he would not release her for a second, nor did she seem inclined to be put down. He had almost lost her through that dark window, and he did not think he would soon erase that horror from his mind.
Behind them, Richard followed with Amália—shaken and pale from her ordeal, but determined to move. Darcy wondered if it had yet occurred to either that she was now a widow, and therefore free. Certainly Richard had already taken note of the fact, but what could come of it, he would not venture to guess.
Gardiner’s butler and housekeeper had been roused, and someone had already gone for Darcy’s own doctor. Mrs Gardiner was fully conscious now, and laboured in both medical aid and prayer at her husband’s bedside. Elizabeth went instantly to her aunt.
“It is bad, Lizzy,” she choked through her tears. “He was wounded in both his head and his chest, and has lost a deal of blood!”
Richard nudged Elizabeth aside. “Madam, I am no medic, but I have treated wounds on the field. May I assist until the surgeon arrives?”
She nodded with a wordless sob, and turned to weep into her niece’s arms. Darcy watched as Richard peeled back the makeshift dressing and poked gently about the wound. “It is deep,” he mused, “but not in his lung. I believe the knife slipped instead along his rib, but I cannot be certain.”
He looked up. “You have good reason to hope, Madam. He is bleeding as much from the wound to his head as to his chest. I expect Vasconcelos came upon him in his sleep, and your husband wakened just in time to fight back some little.”
Mrs Gardiner nodded, her hand over her mouth and tears clouding her eyes. “Edward was protecting me!”
Darcy glanced at the side of the bed and saw a second pillow, still rumpled from the lady’s presence. He then gazed at Elizabeth, imagining Mr Gardiner’s righteous fury and impotent terror as he tried to defend the woman he loved. He also decided in that instant that he would rather be there than not. His wife would never sleep elsewhere than at his own side, if the matter were left to him.
“Just so. Your husband is a noble man,” Richard was answering. “Has he responded to you, Madam?”
“Yes, he groaned when I first came in, but since then nothing. I do not think it an accident, for it happened when I spoke his name.”
“That is well,” Richard assured her kindly. “It speaks for the severity of his head wound. Madam, if you will, please keep speaking while we wait.”
Darcy longed to tear Elizabeth away, but Mrs Gardiner clung to her hands. It was Amália who stood in the corner, shivering and alone, and he stepped from the room to summon a maid. When he returned, he moved quietly to her.
“Madam, fresh garments are being brought below for you. Perhaps you would like to retire to the study in the next room, and it will be made ready for your purpose. Are you well enough to manage?”
She bit her upper lip and nodded. “What of the…” she hesitated, then pointed to the door. “In the street?”
“I have already had the body collected, and I have sent word to the ship on which Senhor Vasconcelos intended to sail, to inform the father of his son’s actions. We will be required to speak with Bow Street Runners, but there will be no question of guilt assigned to any but the dead man. His attack on Mr Gardiner will vouch for his intentions in this house.”
She was staring at the floor, in the attitude of one who can scarce comprehend all that she was hearing. Nevertheless, she nodded when he had finished, drew her shoulders back in a show of courage, and followed the maid.
He returned to Elizabeth’s side to convey the same message to her, but the doctor arrived and was shown in before he could speak. “Ah, Mr Darcy, sir, I am glad to see you! I have just come from your own house.”
“Mine? For what reason?”
“You have not heard? Oh, sir, several messengers were sent in search of you. It seems a number of men, at least ten, had been hired to attack you in the night. They were repelled after some trouble, but there were quite a few hurt.”
“Attack… my house?” he repeated incredulously. “You say there were wounded?”
“Yes, sir, a number of your footmen were knocked about. One broke an arm, another had his ribs cracked. They captured several of their attackers, and all those men were somewhat the worse for the affair. The most grievously wounded, however, was Mrs Wickham. There’s a noble lady and no mistake, sir, but I fear it may go badly for her.”
“What is this?” Richard demanded, loudly enough for Elizabeth to overhear. “A lady was wounded?”
“Yes, Colonel, Mrs Wickham has been shot in the shoulder,” the doctor answered matter-of-factly. “I’ve removed the bullet and dressed the wound, but I fear infection, particularly in her condition.”
Elizabeth pushed to Darcy’s side and grasped his hand. There was nothing she needed to say. “Richard,” Darcy kept his eyes on Elizabeth as he spoke. “See what can be done here. Elizabeth and I must return home.”
Darcy House, London
Thehouselookedlikea military encampment when they arrived. Task forces of maids had been deployed to set right the house, a neat line of footmen stood before table moved from the dining room, bandaging the last of their wounds, and two officers from the nearest militia questioned four bound men in the drawing room. Orchestrating all of it, with eagle eyes and quick remonstrations, was Georgiana.
