With My Whole Heart Forever Page 22

  Recognising the place, she knew what they were near. She must get him talking again.

  “Will we walk all the way to Scotland?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Stupid… question.”

  He was gasping for air now.

  “Do you have horses or a coach waiting for us?”

  Wickham started to say, “Yes,” but he was overtaken by a severe coughing fit. He tucked his pistol in his belt and leant over, hands on knees.

  This is our chance.

  She grabbed hold of Ana’s arm, pushed her friend in front of her, and said, “Run!”

  They bolted in the direction Elizabeth indicated, where the trees were thick and numerous.

  A gunshot echoed through the woods.

  Elizabeth’s head snapped to the side to check that Ana was still running. Thank God he missed them both!

  “Roots,” Elizabeth said as she jumped over a tangle that was above the ground and barely visible under the fallen leaves. They could not afford to trip now.

  She glanced behind them. Wickham was nowhere in sight. She imagined he was somewhere behind a tree, reloading his pistol.

  After about a quarter of a mile, Ana stumbled but thankfully did not fall. They needed to rest before running any further. Elizabeth pointed to an unusually large tree. As they headed there, they slowed and came to a stop behind it. Both leaned back against the trunk as they caught their breath. Ana suddenly bent over, holding her side. She must have a stitch. They needed water desperately, but they would have to do without.

  The apple!

  She pulled it out of her pocket and handed it to Ana, whispering, “Take a bite. It will help.”

  Ana did so and handed it to Elizabeth, who did the same, then she returned it to her pocket. The sweet juices partially quenched her thirst and moistened her parched throat. They were still panting, but soon Ana was able to stand straight again. Elizabeth felt they could run again.

  “I know a place we can hide.” If she were not limiting speech, she would have said she had used it for years, and nobody ever found her there. She purposely led their escape in a different direction to keep Wickham from suspecting which way they would eventually go.

  Ana nodded. “I am sorry I doubted you.”

  Elizabeth hugged her. “Never mind about that!” She said, then pointed to their left. “That way.”

  Perhaps if they heard or saw no further signs of Wickham, they might be able to forego the hiding spot and head directly to Longbourn.

  As they began again, Elizabeth realised this portion of the woods had more leaves on the ground. Their quick steps were making quite the rustling noise.

  “We must move more slowly and pick up our skirts and feet further to limit the noise. We do not want him to know we changed directions.”

  Before long, they arrived at the hiding place. Elizabeth held a finger to her lips. Leaves rustled behind them in the distance. Wickham was nearby, though she could not yet see him.

  She approached a large clump of evergreen bushes and rounded it to the opposite side. Grabbing a long, dead branch, she slid it under a small opening near the ground and pulled the tree limb upwards, which made a tunnel.

  She whispered into Ana’s ear, “There’s a small area in the centre — a former den for some kind of animal. It will be tight, but we both can fit. Crawl through.”

  Ana did so.

  A branch tugged on Ana’s gown, tearing it. Elizabeth collected the piece of material and crawled through after her, ripping her gown in several places. She pulled the branch in after them, moving it this way and that to cover their tracks. She suspected this was the reason nobody had ever discovered her hiding place previously.

  CHAPTER 24

  Their hiding place was cramped. Branches poked and scratched at them, and it smelled awful — as if something had crawled under one of the surrounding bushes to die, but it was better than being in the open and having to deal with Wickham and his gun. Something dug into her seat, and she shifted briefly to move a fist-sized rock from beneath her.

  Elizabeth handed Ana the apple. Ana took a bite, then returned it. Elizabeth did the same and chewed on it for as long as she could.

  Now, to wait.

  Their respiration returned to normal before the rustling came closer. Ana grasped Elizabeth’s hand. Elizabeth put a finger of the other hand up to her lips and mouthed, “Quiet.” Then she took Ana’s other hand in hers.

  They could hear footsteps now. She squeezed Ana’s hand firmly.

  He must be immediately outside of their fortress. The bushes were evergreens and the branches thick, so there would be no way he could see them, at least. The unfortunate part was that they had no idea what he was up to, either.

  She heard more rustling, but further away this time. Was Wickham leaving? No, there was a noise close by, as well. Someone was coming? Was it a friend of Wickham’s, helping him, or was it an innocent person traipsing through the woods? If the latter, would Wickham harm them to prevent them from reporting that he had been seen in these woods? Or would he allow the person to pass, happy he had been seen, so Mr. Darcy could know precisely who was responsible?

  “How did you get free?” It was Wickham’s voice.

  “You’re not very good at tying knots,” a deep voice answered.

  Ana mouthed, “Simons.”

  Oh! Somehow, Simons had tracked them here. Did he know where they were?

  “I should have killed you after all,” Wickham said.

  She heard the click of a pistol being cocked.

  Both young ladies stiffened. Ana squeezed her hand so hard, the gashes from earlier began to bleed again.

  She would have to distract Wickham and give Simons a chance! What could she do to help him and still not give their position away?

  She looked around and saw a stick half under her skirts. Pulling her hands from Ana’s, she retrieved it and slowly moved onto her knees.

  Just as she was about to throw it up and out in the opposite direction to where the voices were coming from, she heard the click of another gun being cocked.

  “Drop your pistol, Wickham,” Mr. Darcy said gruffly.

  “You haven’t got the guts to shoot me,” Wickham said.

  “On the contrary, it is taking every ounce of my will to keep from pulling this trigger.” He was livid. “You have proven a menace to the people I care about for the last time. Do not force me to kill you.”

  The thump of Wickham’s pistol hitting the ground was punctuated by a shot. Elizabeth jumped. Had Mr. Darcy shot him? Her ears rang, and the smell of gunpowder almost gagged her.

  “Where are the ladies?” Mr. Darcy asked loudly.

  Wickham’s pistol must have gone off accidentally when he dropped it, or else Mr. Darcy would not still be talking to him so calmly.

  There were quick footsteps.

  “Stop!” Mr. Darcy called out.

  More footsteps.

  Already crouched to throw the stick, Elizabeth stood. The bushes were only chest high, so she could finally see what was happening. Three men were chasing Wickham, but he was ahead of them.

  She took what was left of the apple from her pocket and judged its weight in her hand and the distance to Wickham. Quickly deciding it was not spherical enough or heavy enough for her purposes, she picked up the fist-sized rock she had been sitting on earlier and threw it. It hit him square in the back, hard enough to make him stumble forward, head first, into a tree. He slid to the ground, unconscious.

  Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, and Simons turned to look back at her.

  “Sometimes it pays to have been a tomboy,” she called out.

  Simons and Mr. Bingley rushed ahead to secure Wickham while Mr. Darcy moved towards their hiding place.

  Elizabeth turned to help Ana stand.

  Ana’s eyes were wide, and she held out her hands. They were covered with blood.

  Ana looked up at her. “Lizzy?”

  Elizabeth screamed. “Help me! The stray bullet from Wickham’s
gun hit Ana.” Elizabeth slid the branch under the bush. “Quickly, pull this branch up on your side.”

  Someone did.

  She hooked her hands under Ana’s arms and crawled backwards out of the tunnel, pulling Ana along with her.

  Mr. Darcy’s gaze ran over his sister. The most blood was on her left arm. Her brother tore open the fabric.

  “Thank God! The bullet only grazed it,” he said. Taking a flask from his coat pocket, he poured some brandy over her wound.

  Ana hissed. “It stings.”

  “Some pain now is better than an infection later,” Mr. Darcy said. He pressed a handkerchief against the wound.

  Mr. Bingley handed him another handkerchief and went to help Simons.

  Mr. Darcy tied the additional cloth around Ana’s arm to keep the first one in place.

  He hugged his sister to his chest. “You will be fine, Dove.” He kissed the top of her head, then pushed her away from him and held her at arm’s length. “Did he…” He took a shaky breath. “…harm you in any other way?”

  Ana shook her head. “Just a few bruises. I tripped. It was how he caught us.”

  “Do not blame yourself, dear. Wickham had a gun,” Elizabeth said, “We would have been forced to stop anyway.”

  He pulled Ana to him again and reached out a hand towards Elizabeth. Though she was also in need of an embrace, she was not sure what he wanted from her, so she placed her hand in his. He stared at the deep scratches on her hand, which were still bleeding. His thumb gently caressed her wrist.

  “Elizabeth? Your hand is bleeding, and there is blood on your gown. Are you injured elsewhere?”

  She caught his eye. He did not seem to notice that he used her Christian name, and she was not about to tell him. “It is only a few scratches. I am well.”

  “Her injured hands are my fault,” Ana said as she pulled away from her brother. “I was holding Lizzy’s hands too tightly, trying to stay with her when he – he pulled me away from her. Then he brought out a pistol and threatened to shoot her if I did not do as he said.”

  “None of what happened today was your fault. None of it.” Elizabeth placed an arm around Ana’s shoulders and pulled her into an embrace. Elizabeth closed her eyes. “Worry not. Truly, I have had much worse injuries. I am just glad you were not hurt worse than you were.”

  She opened her eyes and looked up at Mr. Darcy, who was staring at her with an expression she could not read.

  Elizabeth said, “I think we both could do with some water. We ran at great speed for a time.”

  Mr. Darcy blinked. Obviously, he did not wish to leave his sister, but Elizabeth had no idea where they had left their horses.

  Mr. Bingley and Simons approached, dragging a well-tied and still dazed Wickham.

  Ana moved away from her, looked at Elizabeth, and turned around to see what was holding her attention.

  Mr. Darcy cleared his throat. “Can one of you fetch the horses? And we need a canteen.”

  Without much care, the two men dropped Wickham like a sack of flour in a pile of leaves. Mr. Bingley ran off while Simons kept an eye on Wickham. It was then that Elizabeth noticed poor Simons had dried blood on his forehead and matted in his hair.

  “What did you hit him with?” Mr. Darcy asked.

  Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy with her brows furrowed. “I did not hit Mr. Simons.”

  “Of course not. I did not mean—” Mr. Darcy shook his head. “What did you throw at Wickham?” he asked.

  “Oh! A rock.”

  “It was a beautiful hurl,” Mr. Darcy said with a twinkle in his eye.

  “I thank you.” She smiled, then to lighten the mood a little, she added, “I told you I outdid all the boys at many activities.”

  “And this?” He gestured towards their hiding spot.

  “We used to play hiding games in the woods when I was young. Nobody ever found me there, so I thought it the safest place for us to hide.”

  Mr. Darcy nodded. “It was. None of us knew you were there.”

  “But Fitzwilliam,” Ana said, “how did you know something was wrong? Why had you come looking for us? You had not time to find Wickham’s letters.”

  “Wickham must have freed your horses,” he said. “They are trained to return to the barn if they are separated from their rider, but being unfamiliar with the area, they returned on the same route they came, a path that took them along one of the Wilsons’ fields. Since all was well there, Bingley and I left after a brief visit. We knew something was wrong when we saw the horses wandering down the path you had taken to Oakham Mount. As we arrived, Simons had just untied himself and was about to go after you. He is an excellent tracker. We followed the trail you left.” Mr. Darcy raised his eyebrows. “Wickham left letters?”

  “Apparently,” answered Elizabeth. “He said he convinced one of Longbourn’s maids to place some letters in my rooms. They make it sound as if I helped him plan the abduction. She also stole a page from my journal and put it amongst his belongings at the camp. He was trying to make everyone — especially you, sir — think I escaped with him instead of my being another victim.”

  Ana added, “In the same manner as Mrs. Younge helped him.”

  Mr. Darcy’s expression was one of shock. “Are you saying Mrs. Younge did not help him at Ramsgate?”

  Ana shook her head. “No, he admitted she did. He only wanted to hurt you by making you believe you were wrong for trusting Lizzy — that the abduction was, in a way, your fault.” A tear ran down her cheek. “At first, while it was happening, even I accused Lizzy…” she turned to Elizabeth. “Again, I must apologize. If it were not for you, I would have been held at gunpoint all the way to Gretna Green. Or worse.” A pained expression shadowed her face.

  Mr. Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand in his then laid his other on top. His eyes were suspiciously shiny, but he was fighting his emotions. “Thank you, Miss Elizabeth.” His voice cracked on the last.

  His hand was warm. Elizabeth felt as if some of his strength passed to her through his touch.

  Nodding, Elizabeth swallowed her own emotions. Knowing her tears would only cause Ana to break down further, she vowed to herself she would shed them later, when alone, or at least when she was not with Ana.

  Elizabeth cleared her throat. “I do not know exactly what happened with him in the past,” said Elizabeth, first looking at Mr. Darcy, then at Ana. “But from what I did hear of it today, I can understand why you suspected me, Ana. Please, do not feel guilty. I tend to remember events in a way that gives me pleasure.” Elizabeth chuckled. “For example, I suspect what I will remember about this experience might be watching Wickham being captured!”

  Ana giggled through her tears.

  Mr. Darcy’s eyes crinkled with a smile. “That pitch was difficult, at best, hitting a moving target as you did, and at that distance.”

  “And you said you have no talents, Lizzy,” Ana teased through her tears.

  Elizabeth smiled. “I tried archery — an acceptable pastime for a lady — but I realised I was much more accurate at hitting targets when I throw…well, just about anything.”

  Mr. Darcy started chuckling, but when Ana began to laugh as well, his turned into a deep belly laugh. She understood it was relieving some of the anxiety he must have felt while looking for his sister.

  Mr. Bingley arrived with the horses, unhooked a canteen from a saddle, and brought it over. Both ladies took a long drink. They all rose.

  “You are riding with me, Ana,” Mr. Darcy said, then he turned to Elizabeth. “Are you well enough to ride alone?”

  She nodded, and he helped her mount Papilio.

  Wickham, who was beginning to regain consciousness, pulled on the ropes that bound his hands. With all of them looking on, and Simons standing nearby, he struggled to rise. Once on his own two feet, he was somewhat unsteady, but he took a few steps away from Simons as if he was trying to escape. Simons chuckled and shook his head while grabbing hold of the ropes binding Wickham’s hands,
then he swung him around and started pushing him towards Simons’s horse.

  Good. Elizabeth had been afraid they might use Ana’s horse to transport him, and she was glad they had not. It might make for bad memories.

  With great difficulty, after a threat to lay him across the saddle and tie his hands and feet together to keep him there, Wickham was up on the horse. Simons swung up behind him.

  Wickham caught sight of Elizabeth. Blood dripped from his nose and a gash on his cheek, where he must have hit the tree. “I should have shot you when I had the chance.”

  Elizabeth could feel the colour draining from her face.

  “Gag him, Simons,” a red-faced Mr. Darcy growled. “Now!”

  “With pleasure, sir,” Simons answered.

  “Wait!” Elizabeth turned to Mr. Darcy. “I believe there is a carriage waiting, but I do not know where. Perhaps whoever stayed with the carriage is aware of his plans. If we do not show up, they might run.”

  If looks could kill, Elizabeth would surely be well on her way to her heavenly reward after being on the receiving end of the glare Wickham sent her way.

  Mr. Bingley said, “Darcy, you take the ladies to Netherfield.” He rubbed his hands together. “We will extract the information we need from him and meet you there.”

  From where they were, she judged them about an equal distance to Netherfield and Longbourn, but she agreed Netherfield was the more logical choice of destinations. Her mother and sisters would be all swoons once they heard of today’s ordeal. It would be better to send a message asking her father, and maybe Jane, to come immediately.

  Mr. Darcy nodded to Mr. Bingley and gestured for Elizabeth to go ahead. She urged Papilio on.

  Once they were out of the woods and on the path, it took them past Oakham Mount. The blanket and some of the cloths, which had held the food they had eaten, had blown free and dotted the side of the hill. From here, she could see the hamper still lay on its side at the top of the Mount.

  What a lovely day they had been having before… before everything went wrong.

  She turned and looked at Ana and Mr. Darcy. Ana wiped her cheeks with her hands.

  “We will send someone back here later to collect all this,” Mr. Darcy said.