Page 66 of Her Affections and Wishes

“This is urgent!” he cried, trying to guide his horse around them.

Another man grabbed his horse’s bridle. “You will be prosecuted with the full vigour of the law if you cross.”

“Let go!”

“You must keep the course clear!”

Cursing again, Darcy dismounted and pushed past him. He would run across and stop Lady Metcalfe before the horses made the turn. It would not take long for them to go around, make the Tattenham Corner turn into the straight, and gallop toward the winning post. That would be when Lady Metcalfe would push Elizabeth from the cart in front of the dashing horses.

Another man shouted something to him and caught his arm, but Darcy could not hear as a roar went up as the last race began. Darcy threw him off, but another man grabbed him when Henry ran up and pushed the man off of him.

“Go!” he cried.

Darcy took off at a run across the course as a cry of horror went up as he put himself in harm’s way.

Elizabeth’s brain rattled about. The crowd grew louder, and then there was a sharp collective gasp.

“He ran onto the turf,” a man near to the cart cried.

Elizabeth wondered if another race had started. If Lady Metcalfe grew distracted, maybe she could get away. But Lady Metcalfe grabbed the ropes, jerking her roughly and turning her to the side so she could no longer see.

Why was she taking her from the cart? Her mind was in a daze and pain thudded behind her eyes. How had she even got here? It was hard to remember. How could she feel more insensible now than when she first awoke? Something was wrong with her mind.

The thundering of hooves drowned out the cries of alarm. The cart jostled, like someone had climbed into it. Lady Metcalfe gave a wild shriek that pierced her ears and made her wince, and she was dropped back onto the cart. Pain and nausea struck her. Maybe she should go back to sleep.

“What are you doing?” an unfamiliar man said. “Leave him alone.”

“She has kidnapped a woman!” She recognised that voice. “Help me stop her.”

The cart shifted again as though more people climbed in. Lady Metcalfe’s screams pierced through the sounds of scuffling feet and shouting. She was too exhausted to cry for help, although more voices surrounded her.

“That’s a woman?”

“She was going to throw that bundle onto the turf.”

“I think it is a person!” called yet another appalled voice.

“You two, hold her until the constables arrive.” That voice reminded her of Darcy’s. Was not Darcy searching for her? That made sense, although little else did. Maybe these people could help her get back to Woodcote.

Someone gripped the blanket she was wrapped in, rolling her onto her back and making what little vision she had blur.

“A knife!” Maybe that voice was Darcy’s. It sounded like him, but frantic. “Someone give me a knife.”

It felt like the ropes around her arms and knees were cut, then the blanket was pulled taut and sliced down the front. The sunlight was painful and she shut her eyes, but when the blanket fell away, she opened them to see Darcy’s beleaguered face. He threw down the knife and scooped her in his arms, clutching her like a promise.

Relieved tears burst from her eyes. Her arms were too numb to hold him as tightly as she needed.

“You are safe,” he gasped. “You are safe.” He repeated it, over and over, like he was reassuring himself as much as her.

Darcy held her close, and she felt him shaking, his breath quick and rasping in her ear. Of course Darcy had been looking for her. All her muscles were weak, and she rested her head against his shoulder, sagging against him in relief. He murmured in her ear that he loved her. He would not want to be thanked for finding her, so she whispered a grateful, “I love you” back.

Behind them, she heard another enraged shriek. Lady Metcalfe. With more feeling returned to her hands, she clasped Darcy tighter and began to cry.

“She thinks Julia can secure you,” she choked out, “and then Mr Travers would marry her.”

“I know.”

“She was the one with Mr Travers that night,” she said through sobs.