“Taken,” Richard growled, his bloodsoaked hands tying off a handkerchief turned bandage. “And we have this man to tend to… Here, run to Longbourn, tell Lightcliffe what happened–he will know what to do–then get on your horse, see if you can discover which way they went, but stay well away.” Pointing to the man beside him, he frowned, “Whoever is responsible will not be above harming a woman.”
Like his Mary,his thoughts warned as he fought the urge to leave Darcy in his place;but his cousin had never seen wounds such as these before, let alone worked to keep a man alive.
Teeth clenched as Darcy gave half a word of agreement before racing off, Richard’s gaze drew past him to where the wagon had traveled.
He had put his attention right where they wanted: the injured man. They had seen one figure driving the wagon when it had passed, assumed the prone figure him, and that the trap lay in him, not the wagon.
“Foolish!” he berated himself. “If ever a fool has lived, it is I!”
Twice, an obvious danger he had not observed. Twice, Mary had paid the price.
Removing his coat to wrap the man, he frowned;Could he continue as a military man if his senses had dulled this much? A colonel, a leader, had to be accurate. Men’s lives depended on that, and he…
Shaking his head, he considered the present moment.He could worry after this man had been helped, after his Mary and Elizabeth were brought home, but not before.
The minutes passing in slow, painful progression, Richard gave the unknown man all the care he might, his supplies limited and the growing clouds dark and threatening.
“Come on,” he urged as the empty road began to show some sign of movement in the distance. “Let this be help!”
Ears picking up a clopping of hooves, Richard checked on the man beside him before rising to make their position known. “Over here! Wait? Is that you, Aldry? I assumed Lightcliffe would be first to arrive.”
“He would have,” Aldry remarked as he rode over, his brows furrowed, “but Darcy caught me on the road. Peters knows now and is having the Lucas’ bring help, Lightcliffe is joining Darcy, and Mr. Bennet insisted upon gathering an army of farm hands and militia. My only fear is the sight of any force could lead whoever has the ladies to act rashly… and angry farm hands and overeager militia do not bode well.”
Grabbing the reins of Aldry’s mare, Richard’s eyes narrowed, “I need your horse, there is no time to waste! As soon as the Lucas’ arrive you and Peters gather weapons and supplies and follow along; we must approach this with stealth, and we need men who have such experience.”
Sliding off, Aldry held the reins as Richard mounted in one smooth motion, the reins tossed to him and set into use in the same breath.
“God’s speed!” the voice of Aldry rang from behind as Richard set as fast a pace as his mount might take for the miles ahead.
Yes, speed. Wisdom. For the person most precious to him hung in the balance.
His Mary.
∞∞∞
A light pressure on the reins as he slowed his mount’s pace to a walk, Richard observed the horses of Darcy and Lightcliffe up ahead, the people of Meryton having been able to direct his steps toward the far side of town. The dense area of forest as beautiful as ominous, he rode forward with caution. Already Lightcliffe had seen him, and though they would not have chanced coming too near the captors, Richard would not risk another foolish mistake.
The distance narrowed and the air quiet, he stilled his mare and dismounted, walking her to the other horses before securing her to a tree.
Moving slow, quiet, and low toward his friends, he studied the forested area carefully, the trees a welcome cover, though not without their own troubles.
“Fitz,” Darcy sighed, the pistol he had been holding held out for Richard, “I am relieved you found us. Here, we both know who is the better shot.”
“You are hardly a bad shot,” he teased half-heartedly before turning toward Lightcliffe, his chest aching as he awaited an update.
Meeting his gaze, Lightcliffe provided his report, “At least two men have them in that stone ruin. I am uncertain as to who either is as I did not risk drawing nearer, but thus far, the ladies are safe.”
“Peters and Aldry will follow when they are able,” Richard supplied, a shiver passing through him with the lack of his great coat. “I asked them to bring additional weapons and supplies… until we scout it, who knows what we shall need. Now,” he shifted topic as he held out two sticks, “draw out what you have each been able to observe. If they align, that may determine where we ought to scout first.”
“Here,” Darcy said as he set his first marks in the earth, “this is where the wagon is, to the front and right of what would have been the entrance to the building. It runs parallel to where we are at present–maybe twenty feet from end to end and less back. A rectangular configuration with several indents where windows might have been.”
Nodding, Lightcliffe agreed, “That is accurate; I would have estimated a little more in size, nearer twenty-five or thirty considering the size of the wagon beside. South, south-east facing, with a slope running down out the back, and trees all around. Unfortunately, with the way the stones are, there will be more cover for them and many routes they might use to escape… with the walls half fallen in, windows or even doors are of little import.”
“Darcy?” Richard questioned, eager to confirm the two men agreed.
“Yes, I think Lightcliffe is correct. The wagon in scale would make the building about twenty-five feet give or take. Also, when I first arrived, I moved left a little of where we are, and there may have been an old, much smaller building at one point, not much more than rubble at present. It lies about here,” he said, marking it on the ground.
“Excellent. We have a general idea of the building and its surroundings, though I would be loath to risk action without having a closer look. Still, our position does not appear too poor; for as many escape routes as they have, we gain that many means of entry… and,” Richard paused as he viewed the area before them, “we have the high ground.”
