His heat and his nearness invaded her thoughts. She remembered her hair was still down when Darcy brought a hand up to stroke his fingers through it. She was tucked under his chin, and he probably had not realised what he was doing. Elizabeth closed her eyes, settling into him as he held her closer.
“I have never been more aware than I am right now of what I lost when I refused your affections,” she said through the emotion in her throat.
She felt him sigh, and then he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She tilted back to better look at him, and Darcy brought his hands to either side of her face. He drew a quick breath as if to say something, but instead his thumb started brushing her cheek, the one that had not been struck. His attention shifted from her eyes down to her mouth, and then quickly came back up. With her heart racing, Elizabeth nodded, leaning a little closer toward his lips.
The key turned in the lock, and she started. Darcy shifted her behind him as the door pushed open and Markle entered. In one hand he held a pistol, aimed at the floor. His gaze sharpened as a smirk crossed his lips.
“Am I interrupting, Nan? What would your mamma say?”
Elizabeth stepped out from behind Darcy, but did not give him an answer.
“By all means, you need not stop on my account,” he continued. “Although, if Darcy does not satisfy you, any of the men are eager to swive. Shall I send one of them up?” He gave her a cold look. “Or all of them?”
“What do you want?” Darcy asked.
Markle ignored him and kept his stony gaze on her. “We are moving you both tonight, Nan, to a place near the coast.” He pulled out a bottle from his waistcoat pocket. “And I need you to be agreeable for the journey. It will help keep Mr Darcy in line.”
She assumed it was another opium tincture. “You do not need that,” she said as calmly as possible.
He levelled the gun at her, cocking it. “Remember what I said earlier. If I say to do something, what do you do?”
Elizabeth felt a cold terror pass over her, her scalp stinging in pain at the memory. “I do it,” she whispered.
Darcy stepped forward, and Elizabeth threw out her arm and clutched his sleeve. This was not the time. She held out her hand, and Markle gave her the laudanum.
“Drink it.”
She was afraid he would insist on watching her. She took a long swallow. Markle continued to stare, gesturing with the pistol that she should continue. Elizabeth brought it to her lips again, only taking a sip and wincing. “I cannot drink it all now,” she said in as sorrowful a voice as she could make. “Will you leave it with me?”
Markle gave her a flat look. She could not be certain if he was about to shoot her or agree. He was unreadable, and both seemed equally possible.
“Is it because you want to be awake for what Darcy has planned for you after I leave?” he asked. “Drink it all now, in case you don’t want to remember it. He might not be any good.”
Answering his taunts would not help. Elizabeth refused to look at Darcy; she could feel the anger rolling off of him. “I will drink it, but I cannot drink it all at once. This is as much as I might drink over the course of a day.” She took another small sip.
Markle lowered his arm, held the hammer, and pulled the trigger to drop the hammer to a half-cock. Elizabeth closed her eyes in relief.
“Before Steamer puts you in the coach, you had better be half asleep.” He gestured with the pistol at Darcy. “Or he will suffer for it.”
Markle strode through the door and locked it behind him. Elizabeth heard Darcy blow out a breath as he sat on the bed. She ignored him as she lifted each lid on the trunks within reach, trying to find one that was unlocked.
“Elizabeth, if you will be soporific from laudanum, we are out of time.”
Elizabeth found one that opened. Whatever had been resting on its lid fell behind it as she lifted it, and she thrust two fingers down her throat.
“We must run the next time the door opens,” he went on, “even if that means I get shot or?—”
The bun she had eaten and the laudanum came up violently. She might have forced herself a second time, but she hoped just once would be enough. She dumped the rest of the laudanum into the trunk and replaced the lid, sinking against it to catch her breath.
When she turned around, Darcy was looking at her in a way she could not make sense of.
“Have I appalled you?” she asked, a little embarrassed. “I have to be alert for?—”
“You impress me.”
She gave a shaky laugh and took a drink of cold tea. It did little to distil the taste in her mouth, so she went to the washstand and did her best with old toothpowder and a cloth. While she was there, she saw her reflection in the dusty mirror and did her best to put up her hair with the broken comb.
As she made herself as neat and clean as she was going to get, she looked at Darcy in the mirror’s reflection. He was sitting on the bed, watching her but not meeting her eye.
