Page 37 of Bella Darcy is on the Run

"I intend to make myself sufficiently tiresome that they come inside to stop me making such a grand fuss. Once they are close enough, you can deal with the first one and I can help with the others."

His amusement disappeared. "Bella, no."

"Oh, do not start that again. I am not proposing to challenge a dockworker to a bout of fisticuffs. But if I can distract one of them or strike him with something while he is looking at you, surely that is better than standing in a corner and hoping for the best."

George looked around the room with an assessing eye, taking in the loose stones near the wall and a short length of broken timber that had been pushed into one corner. "Possibly," he said at last. "But we would need to know exactly how they enter, where they stand and which one carries the keys. The next time they bring food, we will watch them very closely."

Bella nodded. "And after that?"

"If the same three men return, and if we can draw them far enough into the room, we try it. Once we have the keys, we lock them in here and move as quickly as we can. I do not know how many men are elsewhere in the warehouse, but Trevethan will be occupied with whatever business he intends to conduct once the ransom demand is delivered. That may be the closest thing to an opportunity we are going to get."

Bella squeezed his hand, feeling the first real stir of hope since they had been dragged into the room. "Then that is our plan."

George looked at her for a long moment before nodding. "It is the beginning of one."

✽✽✽

The next few hours passed as pleasantly as they could in an airless room and they talked in gentle tones, both aware that something had shifted between them, but neither quite knowing how to put it into words. They spoke of George's childhood, of the distance between himself and his father and of his career in the Navy, which had begun when he was so young that Bella could scarcely imagine being sent away from home at such an age. In return, she spoke more openly than she ever had before about her own need for freedom and adventure, and about her fear that once she took on the burden of Pemberley there would be no part of her life that belonged entirely to herself. She had thought he might laugh at her, or make light of her complaints about being trapped inside a golden cage when she had been born to every comfort and privilege, but he only smiled gently and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"That is quite a story, Princess. Do you feel you have now had sufficient adventure to declare the whole endeavour a success?"

"Quite," she said with a chuckle. "I feel that in the past two weeks I have had enough adventure to fill a lifetime. I shall now retire to my father's study, review estate books and discuss the price of grain for evermore."

"I am certain Mr Darcy will be delighted. Once he has the armed guards in place to ensure you keep to that promise."

She did not know how they had come to sit so close together, but at some point the small space between them had disappeared and their arms now touched from shoulder to elbow. She could feel each one of his breaths and every small movement of his body, and it filled her with a strange contentment simply to be so close to him. There was no repeat of their earlier passion, but neither did either of them attempt to move away until the door rattled again and the same rough man entered with a metal tray containing a hunk of bread and a sweating wedge of cheese that did little to arouse her appetite.

They shifted apart, but both fixed their attention on the man, who threw down their meal with a clatter and offered them a sarcastic "Bon appétit." There were two men at his back, although neither entered the room, and Bella noticed that they appeared more bored than watchful. One picked at a loose thread on his cuff while the other kicked the heel of his boot against the rough floor. When they had gone and the lock scraped back into place, George turned to her with a grin.

"I think your wild plan might just work, Princess. Now, let us enjoy this feast, although I suspect you are not quite used to food as fine as this."

They ate what they could, George manfully removing a spot of mould from the cheese, and afterwards searched the room again for anything that might be used as a weapon. There were some crumbled stones near the wall, but they were too small to be of any real use. A broken plank, however, might serve, and George patiently showed Bella the best way to hold it and where she should aim if she needed to incapacitate one of their gaolers. Throughout the lesson he used his hands to adjust her grip and move her into the right position. They were rough against her skin, but also gentle and precise, and more than once she had to drag the attention of her treacherous body back to the matter at hand. She noticed on occasion that his breathing quickened or that he cast a long glance towards her, but there was nothing more. There seemed to be a silent agreement between them that whatever had begun between them must wait to be examined properly under the light of the outside world.

As evening drew in and the grey light entering through the small grimy window began to dull, Bella's stomach began to twist nervously. They were really going to attempt this. It was not a novel and there was no guarantee that the heroine would make it out unharmed, or even make it out at all. She found that she was less worried for herself than she was for George. She knew him well enough by now to understand he would play the hero given half a chance and tell her to run while he stayed behind. Bella made a firm resolve that she would do no such thing. If they escaped, they would escape together.

When the clank of the lock came again, George arranged himself on the floor in an attitude of pitiful misery and let out a long groan that was so convincing Bella found herself looking twice. When the door finally opened and their disobliging server entered, she threw herself into her own part of the performance.

"Oh, please, you must help us. You must help us. My companion is gravely ill. Please bring medicine or send for a doctor. Oh, I think he is dying. Please, sir, won't you help?"

The man looked confused, this deviation from his usual routine clearly throwing him off course, and he set down the tray before taking a cautious step towards George. Bella clasped both hands dramatically to her chest and let out a wail, the height of which even Mina could not have hoped to reach in one of her worst childhood tantrums. All three men jumped.

"For pity's sake, stop your caterwauling," snapped the first.

"But he is dying!" Bella cried, pitching her voice even higher and dropping to her knees beside George, pressing her hands together in supplication. "Can you not see how terribly ill he is? Oh, what if it is contagious? What if I catch it and die? Please, you must fetch someone."

"It's nothing to me if he croaks," said the one standing furthest back.

The younger of the two had taken a step over the threshold and was twisting his cap nervously in his hands. "Sly ain't gonna be happy if we let him kick the bucket before he's even decided what to do with 'em, and you know we'll get the blame."

Bella let out another wail, causing all three men to turn sharply towards her. She had managed to bring real tears to her eyes and felt quite proud of her performance.

"Oh, for God's sake," said the third man as he strode properly into the room. "I've had enough of this. Let's have a look at him. Told you we should've got fresh water for 'em. If he's sick in here, who's going to clean it up? Muggins, that's who."

By then all three men were inside the cell and standing around and eying George warily as though he were a mangy dog they did not know what to do with. The first crouched down and caught George roughly by the shoulder.

"All right then, Mr Captain. Let's have a look at you."

George moved so quickly that Bella scarcely saw what happened. One moment he was slumped on the floor and the next his fist connected with the man's jaw and sent him sprawling sideways. The other two reacted at once, one lunging for George while the younger man turned towards Bella. She had already taken up the plank, remembering George's instructions, but for one terrible second every rational thought left her mind. Then the man reached for her and Bella reacted with blind instinct, swinging as hard as she could.