“Wickham, it is not too late to remove yourself from this situation,” Elizabeth heard Darcy say. “Perhaps it is too late for you to prevent whatever is happening tonight, but it is not too late to save yourself from the consequences.”
“I would never escape, Darcy,” Wickham said with certainty.
“We can go straight from here to London. We can acquire horses; I will accompany you to London and obtain passage for you on the next departing ship,” Darcy promised. “Come now; you and I both know that the reason I am still alive is because you have no desire to kill me.”
“Damn you, Darcy!” snarled Wickham. “If you had only given me the living, or let me marry Georgiana, neither of us would be here right now. If only you could have been as generous as your father, none of this would have happened!”
“George, as generous as my father was, we both know that he would never have let you marry Georgie,” said Darcy. “And as far as the living went, if my father had lived to see you take it up, it would have been impossible for you to hide your true self from him forever. If my father had lived, he would have seen you defrocked. Knowing this, how could I possibly have given you the living? You have been on a course to self destruction since we were boys, George. Let me set you on a safer path, please.”
“You do not give a damn about me!” said Wickham scathingly. “You only want to save your own skin.”
“I also want to prevent the friend of my youth from becoming a murderer,” said Darcy. “I have heard from listening that you have already attempted it, at least twice. Do you truly wish to succeed?”
“Well it is too bloody late, is it not?” shouted Wickham in anger. “Look away, Darcy. I do not wish to see your eyes.”
“No,” returned Darcy. “If you want to kill me, you shall have to look me in the eyes as you do it. I will not make it easier for you.”
“Very well then!” Wickham snarled.
“Nooooooooo!” cried Elizabeth as she ran into the cave and shot Wickham.
All three ofthem looked at one another in shock as blood spread over the shoulder of Wickham’s coat. Elizabeth looked down at the ladies’ double shot derringer that Darcy had given to her before he left for Chichester.
“It is not my place to give you a pistol, since I am not your husband or father,” he had told her. “But Wickham is here somewhere. And I find I cannot go without leaving you with something with which to defend yourself, in case you need it.”
Elizabeth had always been in the habit of insisting that her gowns be made with pockets, even her ball gowns. Sometimes she found it very inconvenient to carry a reticule. She had only done so tonight to carry the blue ribbons. Her pockets and Mr Darcy’s pistol had served her well this evening.
“Elizabeth!’ shouted Darcy in surprise.
“She shot me!” Wickham cried. “Your bloody strumpet shot me!” The man dropped the musket he was holding to reach up and attempt to examine his injury, and Elizabeth darted forward and kicked the weapon away, still pointing her pistol at Wickham.
“Give Darcy the key to those manacles,” Elizabeth demanded of Wickham. “I will shoot you again, I swear it!”
Wickham tossed the keys to Darcy, then collapsed onto his rear, and continued to attempt to examine his shoulder.
Elizabeth rushed to Darcy and helped him unlock the manacles. The poor man could barely stand, such was the painin his legs from the cruel contraptions, but he rose and threw his arms around Elizabeth.
“Well, well, well. What have we here?” said a gravelly voice. Darcy and Elizabeth whirled about to reveal Mr Huggins, and three rough looking men.
“Leave us alone!” Elizabeth cried. “We have nothing to do with your business, and we have no way to prevent it, so I will thank you to let us pass!”
“I’m sorry,madame, I am afraid I cannot allow it,” laughed Huggins. “You will raise an alarm, and I cannot have that.”
“Even if we did, it sounds as if it is too late to prevent anything. You have no need of us; I refuse to remain.” Elizabeth put her nose in the air and took hold of Darcy’s hand.
“Even if that were true, I cannot allow you to leave,” Huggins said carelessly. Then to Wickham, “Would you get up, you snivelling brat? It is beyond my comprehension how my sister bore a useless idiot like you, boy.”
“So you are his uncle, then,” breathed Darcy. “I had my doubts.”
“I do not care if he is Queen Charlotte’s uncle!” Elizabeth shrieked. “You do not need Darcy, and we are leaving!”
She grasped Darcy’s hand tighter, and suddenly the men with Huggins moved into action, circling the two of them with their swords. Suddenly another man rushed into the room, sword raised.
“Croucher!” Darcy shouted, recognising his uncle’s man at once. Darcy hoped this meant that more help was on the way. Pushing Elizabeth behind a stack of trunks, Darcy picked up a stray sword – the room was filled with weapons of all kinds – and joined Croucher in attacking the men. The men fought, and weak as Darcy was, he fought valiantly, though Elizabeth could see that the matter was hopeless. Soon, the bad men would overtake Mr Darcy and Mr Croucher. She only had one shot leftin her pistol, and she must save it for the right moment. She crouched behind the trunks, then spotted the musket that she had kicked away from Mr Wickham.
Elizabeth crawled towards the weapon, but another enormous group of rough men rushed into the room to join the others. She shrank back and hid again as Mr Darcy and Mr Croucher were surrounded.
“Well, if it is not the famous Mr Darcy,” said a high ranking officer, as he entered the cave with the men. Elizabeth did not know what all of his regalia meant, but she thought he might be some sort of general. “You know, half of Sussex has been searching for you. Bad form to make everyone worry.”
