Page 34 of Bella Darcy is on the Run

"And why the devil not?"

"Because I am an officer of the Crown, Mr Darcy." Brown's tone remained calm, but there was steel beneath it now. "I have given my word to discharge the duties of this office and protect His Majesty's revenue. I have no authority to suspend the law because a criminal demands it of me, however much I may sympathise with your position."

Darcy stood and leaned over the desk, his face tight with rage. "My daughter is being held by a criminal! Is her life not worth more than a few guineas in the government’s coffers?"

Brown did not flinch. "I know that, sir, and I assure you I have no intention of treating her safety lightly. But if I openly stand my men down, Trevethan may move half the contraband on the French coast through Falmouth freely, and there is no guarantee whatsoever that he will return your daughter afterwards. Quite the contrary. Once he knows his threats have worked, he has every reason to make another."

Darcy stared at him. "Then what do you suggest? That I refuse him and hope he does not harm her?"

"No. I suggest that we make him believe he is getting what he wants while we find another way to bring Miss Darcy and Captain Harwood home. My men will act with discretion, but we will not stop searching for your daughter and the captain, nor observing and checking the activities of the port."

"William." Elizabeth's quiet voice reached him before he could answer. She touched his arm, her fingers curling around his sleeve. "He is right about one thing. We cannot trust this man."

Darcy wanted to scream. He wanted to take Brown by his ridiculous moustache and inform him just what would happen if his daughter were harmed while the Customs office concerned itself with brandy and cigars. Instead, he looked down at his feet and saw for the first time that another, much smaller piece of paper had fallen to the floor. He knew the handwriting before he had fully opened it.

Papa and Mama,

I am safe.

The very same message he had discovered beneath her pillow more than a week ago, although that morning now seemed to belong to some other lifetime. Darcy pressed his lips together and continued.

Captain Harwood is with me, and we have not been harmed. Please do not be frightened for me. I know that is a ridiculous thing to ask and that you will both be frightened anyway, but I am quite well. Papa, please do not do anything rash.

A strange sound escaped Elizabeth, somewhere between a sob and a laugh, while Lydia covered her mouth with both hands and whispered, "Oh, Bella." Darcy felt the smallest pull at the corner of his own mouth. Of all the things his daughter might have written while being held for ransom.

He read on.

I am very sorry. I know I have caused you both more worry than any daughter has a right to cause her parents, and when I am home you may scold me for as long as you please.

This time Elizabeth did laugh, although tears were streaming freely down her cheeks. "She must be well," Lydia said quickly. "Bella could not possibly write that if she were not herself."

Darcy could not answer. He ran his thumb across the familiar handwriting, noticing that the letters were less neat than usual and that there was a dark smudge across one corner. But it was unquestionably Bella. His little girl had held this paper in her hands. She had been alive and well enough to write it, and even frightened and held against her will, she was still worrying about the distress she had caused them.

Elizabeth leaned into him and placed one hand over his where it held the note. Together they read the final lines.

I love you both very much,

Bella.

Darcy read the note twice more before carefully folding the note along its existing creases and slipping it into the inside pocket of his coat. He wanted it close to him. It was ridiculous, perhaps, but the knowledge that his daughter had touched that little scrap of paper made him reluctant to let it go.

"She is alive," he said at last, and Elizabeth nodded, wiping quickly at her damp cheeks. It was more than they had known an hour ago, and for the first time since Lydia had told them Bella was missing, Darcy felt as though he could draw a full breath.

Elizabeth slipped her hand into his. "And she has Captain Harwood with her. From everything Mr Brown has told us, I think we may be grateful for that."

Darcy looked towards the Collector. He did not much like being grateful to any man for protecting his daughter, particularly one he had never met, but there was no denying the truth of it. "Then we find them both."

"We will," Elizabeth said.

Darcy squeezed her hand before turning back to Brown. "I understand that I cannot order you to abandon your duty, and I will not interfere with your men. But neither will I sit quietly at Lydia's house and wait for news. I know nothing of smuggling or the workings of this harbour, but I have money, men and influence at my disposal, and I intend to make use of all three. If there is anything I can do to assist your search, you will tell me."

Brown studied him for a moment before giving a slow nod. "Very well, Mr Darcy. There may indeed be ways in which you can help without alerting Trevethan to our interest."

"Good." Darcy glanced towards Elizabeth. "Then we begin now."

Elizabeth's expression softened, and she stepped closer until their shoulders touched. "Together."

He brought her hand to his lips and held it there for a moment. There had been a time, many years ago, when Darcy had believed himself most useful when he acted alone and relied upon no one. Marriage to Elizabeth had thoroughly disabused him of that notion.