“The driver did not know, but he said the man grew irate that he would not drive down the private road. The driver was hard of hearing. He thinks the man ranted something or other about not being let out where he wanted. If it was Markle”—Darcy nodded—“he then demanded for him to ‘take them nearer to the yard.’ But the driver just told them to get out in a hurry and presumed that they walked from there.”
“The yard?” Darcy repeated, perplexed.
His cousin shrugged and threw himself into a chair. “I don’t know what it means, but this isyourreckless plan.”
He should be relieved that Elizabeth was not taken farther, but anxiety of knowing she was with Markle festered in his mind like a wound. “Where could he have taken her?” he muttered, pacing the room.
“Well, I highly doubt they are going to Vauxhall.”
He turned sharply at Fitzwilliam’s annoyed tone, but his cousin did not look one bit chagrined. “Are youangrywith me?”
Fitzwilliam lifted his eyes. “You come to my rooms last evening at an ungodly hour, say by the way you are engaged to marry Miss Bennet, and also she is about to be kidnapped on purpose and can I please follow the murdering kidnapper? If you are wrong about Markle wanting the boy, she could die. If you are wrong about the revenue men wanting Markle enough to help you, she could die.”
“No, I went to Broad Street after Kirby got in your brother’s carriage,” he said, feeling breathless. He felt the truth of what his cousin said, felt the sickening fear, but it was too late for second thoughts. “I talked with an officer, Mr Sullivan, and they want Markle for his role in the death of their colleague. They do not have the resources to search every basement and tunnel, butwhen I tell them where he will be and when, he will have men ready to arrest him.”
“Terrific,” Fitzwilliam muttered. “Let us hope no one dies in a gun fight.”
Darcy felt so ill with worry for Elizabeth that he wavered on his feet. His cousin gave him an apologetic look. “Well, it might all end well with Miss Bennet as a heroine. Now, we wait for a ransom letter and arrange a meeting. It cannot be long; they only took her to the other side of the Thames.”
Or Markle might wait days just to plague him. A voice of distress in his head was screaming for him to get Elizabeth back now. “I cannot wait,” he whispered. “I thought I could do this. I thought I could arrange everything and wait to hear from him, but this is a torment.”
He went to his hat and gloves where he had carelessly thrown them when he returned earlier. “I am going back to the city to see Mr Sullivan. Maybe he knows why a smuggler went to Lambeth, or where Markle might be in Surrey, and they can arrest him now.”
“No,” his cousin cried. “You two made this stupid plan, so stick to it. Wait for Markle to arrange an exchange and get the revenue men to capture him. And what if Markle sends a ransom note while you are gone?”
“Then someone can chase me down at the Excise Office!” He was sick to death of his cousin’s arguing.
Fitzwilliam swore under his breath, but rose and snatched up his hat and gloves to follow. They refrained from quarrelling before the servants and until the carriage was readied.
When they were alone inside, Darcy said, “Your disapproval is rolling off of you.”
“Idodisapprove. I heartily disapprove of her plan, of your agreeing to it, of your not asserting yourself over her.” His cousin cursed again.
“Markle threatened to go after my sister,” he cried. “What would you have us do?”
“Georgiana was moved?—”
“None of us are truly safe. We had no time, and luring out Markle was our only option.” He sighed heavily. It was a reckless plan, but what else could they have done in so short a time and with so few resources? “You need not have joined me.”
“Of course I did. The plan is already underway, and if you learn where she is, you will need me. If you are going to face a murderer, you won’t do it alone.”
While Darcy felt the warmth of gratitude push back against his worry, his cousin added, “It is still the worst idea you have ever had.”
“Would you have done differently if you were being followed, your loved ones threatened, if someone would kill you when he next saw you unless you complied with his demands?” The plan to trap Markle was a good one. It only hurt him because it was Elizabeth who was in danger and not him.
“I suppose I might have done as you. I would do what I could to see him punished. I might not have even kept it within the law as you have done.” Fitzwilliam shifted his weight and looked out the side-glass. “I would not have used a woman, though.”
There was the crux of his cousin’s fury, that a woman had been put in danger. Elizabeth lacked the physical strength of a man, but Darcy could not doubt her mettle or her intelligence. She had wanted to do this. He had seen in her eyes, in her entire manner, that she needed some control over this situation and was determined to do what she could to preserve them all from further harm from Markle.
“She is brave and clever and capable, and her being a woman is irrelevant.” Other than she was the woman he loved.
“You ought to have offered yourself as a trade for the boy and led the excise officers to you.”
“Well, Markle did not want me,” he said, “and he will underestimate her.”
“He might also cut her throat as a diversion.”
Darcy sat forward in the carriage and rested his elbows on his knees, his head on his hands.
