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She shook her head. “They forced me to drink, and one of them hit me, but I do not recall much more. It is all a bit hazy,” she said.
“Did they say anything else to you, anything at all?” Darcy asked.
“One said he was pleasantly surprised to see me,” she replied, her eyes haunted.
Darcy ran a hand over his face. Not enough that they had dosed her with laudanum, accosted her, torn her from her family. They had taunted her, too. His thoughts turned dark as he considered how to make them answer for it. Darcy meant to speak, to comfort her, he truly did—but the words would not come. What comfort did he have to offer?
Elizabeth rubbed the heel of her hand against her forehead. “May I inquire where I am now?”
“In a hidden room off my study,” Darcy informed her.
Her eyebrows lifted. “In London?” She shook her head slightly. “No, of course it is London.” She sagged, the strength that had propelled her to fight for her release entirely gone. “How long have I been . . .” Her voice trailed off, and Darcy saw the moment she realized her predicament. A deep sadness shadowed her eyes and pierced his heart.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said soothingly, “I promise to explain everything, but perhaps you ought to rest a bit more first.”
She squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “I do not believe I will rest until I know the worst of it, Mr. Darcy. If you would indulge me, I promise not to interrupt.”
He explained how they had discovered her. At the end of his recital, she sat for a time. “How long?” she asked.
Darcy glanced at Fitz and pulled out his watch. “I do not know when you left your home this morning, Miss Elizabeth, but you have been sleeping a rather long time. It is nearly four.”
“Could we not steal back into Hertfordshire?” she pleaded. “I could act as though I had taken a fall on my walk and could not make it back on my own.” She was holding back tears, he suspected. “No one need ever know.”
Fitz snorted from his place across the room. “Do not be ridiculous. You would expect us to leave you outdoors after dark?”
“I could wander home.”
“And what then?” Fitz asked. “What would stop the men who attacked you from doing it again and succeeding this time?”
“Fitz,” Darcy said warningly.
Elizabeth’s brows pinched together. “Then . . . you might send me to my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner here in town. They are not expecting me, but they would not turn me away.”
“You would draw these men to their home, Miss Bennet? Do they have children?”
“Fitz,” Darcy said again.
Elizabeth was silent, and Fitz pressed on.
“There might even be spies watching my cousin’s house to alert them should you step one foot outside, so they can proclaim to the world that Darcy is a debased seducer of gentlewomen.”
“Enough!” Darcy said emphatically, rising to his feet.
Elizabeth closed her eyes and said, quite steadily, “I am sorry for Mr. Darcy, Colonel, but he has family and resources enough to protect him. I am not in such a fortunate position, nor is my family, and even you must see that none of this has been my doing. You are spending your anger upon me because you do not know where else to put it, and I must say that I do not appreciate it.”
Fitz leaned his head back against the wall. “My apologies, Miss Bennet,” he said gruffly. “Perhaps I have been too direct.”
She waved him off. “My mother often behaves in this manner, sir. You are forgiven.” Elizabeth focused on Darcy. “My family,” she said plaintively. “My sisters . . .”
“Will be protected,” Darcy assured her. “I give you my word.”
He heard Fitz strangle a protest.
Darcy’s promise seemed to placate Elizabeth. “Thank you, sir. I suppose,” she said with a little sigh, “that is the best that can be accomplished.”
He did not like the resignation in her response.
Elizabeth’s head began to droop, but she recovered enough to push herself back and settle on the bed. Darcy helped her recline without straining her splinted arm and pulled the blankets up so she would be warm enough.
