The boy left, still refusing to meet his eye, and Darcy felt certain that Kirby knew that after Markle had strung along Lady Catherine and bled her dry, he and Elizabeth would be murdered and their bodies thrown in the river.
Elizabeth rose from the bed to see what had been left for them: a pitcher of water, two cups, a plate of cheese, and bread that must have been baked yesterday. The cheese had been sliced, and they would have to tear the bread with their hands.
“So much for getting a knife,” she said through a mouthful. “Or roasted lamb.”
They ate quickly and silently, and seemed lost in their own thoughts for a long while. There was nothing else to say or to plan or to distract them from the fact that soon they would have to fight for their lives. Elizabeth idly flipped through one of Kirby’s books, and Darcy silently composed in his head the letterhe would write to his cousin. They occasionally heard men’s voices coming from the rooms below.
After checking his watch, Darcy said, “We should try to sleep. I know it is early, but we don’t know when they will take us. We will need whatever energy we can muster.”
Elizabeth agreed and gave a half smile. “I have to be ready to act dull and disinterested.”
They both knew she would have to do more than that, that their entire scheme depended on her lowering the window and opening the carriage door.
They stood on either side of the bed, looking at it and then at each other before both of them looked away.
“We ought to stay dressed,” she said, smoothing her skirts.
“Yes,” he said, clearing his throat, “we need to be ready to move in a moment.”
Darcy toed off his shoes and pushed back the pillow on his side, getting in without making eye contact with Elizabeth. She left up her hair and, rather than rest on top of the blanket as she had last night, climbed in next to him. He laid on the pillow, staring at the ceiling in the dim light, feeling Elizabeth’s tempting presence surround him.
After a while, he heard her turn on her side, facing him. When he looked at Elizabeth, he thought he saw the same longing in her eyes that he had seen when he kissed her this afternoon. The tension that hung between them seemed to build impossibly stronger.
“May I kiss you one more time,” he whispered, “before we go to sleep?”
Elizabeth nodded, looking pleased, and eagerly reached out to him. The light touch of her fingertips against his cheek was enticing, and he wanted to feel her touch him everywhere. She gave him a serious kiss, with parted lips, and his pulseaccelerated. The same shocking passion he felt when he kissed her before shot through him again.
His heart drummed away at how she deepened the kiss until their tongues touched. Her mind and body had no hesitation when he tugged her against him so they were hip to hip, and he lightly curved a hand over her breast. She kissed him with languid intimacy, and it felt like her kiss seeped into his blood to course through him.
Common sense told him to stop and not pull her on top of him, and by mutual, silent agreement they moved apart and rolled onto their backs, and her hand clasped his in the dark.
Chapter Eleven
The sound of the door being thrown open startled Darcy awake. He was already sitting up by the time Steamer strode in.
“Rise and shine, Nan!” he said in a menacing voice, coming up to the foot of the bed and shaking Elizabeth’s legs. “Get up before I get in there with you.”
She woke and swiftly drew her legs away from him with a gasp. Darcy put on his shoes, coat, and gloves while Elizabeth rose to move past Steamer.
“Do you need help with that, Nan?” he asked, throwing out his hand to stop her from taking the pelisse Darcy held out. “I can do up your buttons.”
Elizabeth shook her head, keeping her eyes down. Darcy edged in front of Steamer to put himself between him and Elizabeth to keep him from touching her. He fastened the buttons for her, and after she placed her hat atop her head, Darcy tied the ribbon under her chin. It was best to pretend she needed help because she was slow and dull from laudanum, but Darcy saw that if anyone looked into her eyes, they would know she was alert and terrified.
With his back to Steamer, Darcy gave her a questioning look, wanting to know if she was truly ready to do this. She reached into her pelisse pocket and gave him a quick nod. He guessed she had her hand clenched around the little broken bottle.
Steamer stretched around him to yank Elizabeth by the arm and toss her toward the door. She stumbled, and it took every ounce of his strength not to lash out against Steamer. Darcy looked at his watch as they went down the stairs and out the door. It was after eleven; they had managed a couple of hours of sleep.
In the dim light of the coach lanterns Darcy saw Kirby by the lane, staring at the carriage. He tried to catch his eye, but the boy turned away. Darcy did not see Conway, but he supposed he would eventually mind the horses.
“Where is Markle?” Darcy asked.
Steamer flung open the carriage door and folded down the steps before giving him a rough shove. “Never you mind. You will see him tomorrow night. He ain’t done with you yet.”
Darcy got in, facing the rear, and Elizabeth sat next to him. Steamer sat across from them facing the horses, with his arms folded and giving them both a forbidding stare. At least this time there was no argument over who sat where, he was not blindfolded, and Elizabeth was already next to the door. Someone shut the carriage door—Darcy could not see who in the dark—and the carriage moved.
Elizabeth let out a sigh and closed her eyes, and Darcy wanted to put his arm around her and draw her against his chest, but attracting Steamer’s attention in that way would be foolish.
“What is the matter, Nan?” Steamer said to her. “Did you not enjoy your time with your cousin? Was he not very good?” Elizabeth blinked at him, and then closed her eyes. Steamerbarked a disdainful laugh. “No need to worry. Laudanum makes the memories fade.”
