Fitzwilliam clenched both fists as though he might otherwise throttle his neck. “He might have told his uncle that he has been set up to abduct Miss Bennet.”
“No, Kirby ran away because he knew Elizabeth was putting herself in danger and he wanted to help. He has gone back to Kent to look for her, or he knows where Markle hides in London and he will be at the Lett timber yard and will need our help.”
His cousin sat back and swore yet again. “Then I guess there is nothing to do now but confront Markle and hope he is not expecting us.”
Elizabeth knewshe was somewhere between Westminster and Blackfriars Bridge, and near enough to the river to smell it. She was on the second floor of a building facing the Thames, but from the small, high windows she could only see trees on the other side of the river and, on one side, a tall structure shaped rather like a beehive with a chimney.
The sun was still up, but it would not be up much longer. Markle had dragged her past breweries, iron works, warehouses, and into a building where she had seen raw logs stored and woodcutting equipment. The room she was in now seemed more like offices than a warehouse, but below there had been a row of barrels along one wall. The smell of sawdust held its ground against the stench from the Thames.
She choked against the handkerchief shoved in her mouth and gave her wrists a break. Markle had bound them before he left, and while it had taken no time at all to get to the pocketknifeunder her skirts, twisting it in her hands to cut herself free was proving difficult.
Conway and Colton were at the bottom of the open stairs, laughing and sharing a flask by the sounds of it. Markle had left a long time ago after he had cut a lock of her hair to prove to Darcy that he had taken her. She feared he did not arrange a meeting with Darcy in that note.
I could be here alone for several more days.
She screamed in frustration into the handkerchief. She heaved a few breaths through her nose, willing herself to calm down. She could not panic just because she was more afraid this time. She and Darcy had a plan, so it was really an easier ordeal than her last kidnapping, was it not? There was no reason to be afraid; this time she knew someone was coming for her.
Of course, the last time was easier because Darcy had been there. Even before they had ever talked, even before she had fallen in love with him, she knew she could trust him. There must, naturally, be something significant in going through a trial with a partner rather than facing a similar trial alone.
I can trust that Darcy will recover me. He just needs to be told where I am.
Then why was she frantically sawing at the thick rope on her wrists and thinking of a way to get past Conway and Colton?
She needed to stay to pretend to make the exchange for Kirby, so it made no sense to flee. Elizabeth rested her wrists and took a long breath through her nose.She just wanted to free her hands to untie the handkerchief from her mouth. She knew Darcy would come with the officers and when he did, this would all be over. They had a carefully constructed plan, and she would abide by it.
It was nearly dark, and she was making slow progress when she heard the voices stop and a steady tread on the stairs. Elizabeth tried to fold up the knife to hide it, but her fingersfumbled—either from ache or surprise—and it clattered to the floor as Markle strode in.
He raised an eyebrow and crossed the room to pick it up. “Pretty little knife, Nan.” He folded and opened it as he talked. “No reticule, no pocket that I can see. Where were you hiding it?”
With the handkerchief around her mouth, she could not speak. He reached around her head to loosen it, then yanked it down, the tight fabric scraping at her lips and chin. After taking a gasping breath, she only stared.
“No answer? Have you forgotten already? When I say?—”
“In my stocking,” she rasped, her throat dry. “After surviving one kidnapping, you could not think that I would leave the house unprotected.”
“Little good that did.” Markle laughed, but that was better than him presuming she had been ready for him because he was being set up. “I will hold on to this, since this will be your final kidnapping.”
“I hope so, since Mr Darcy will bring you Kirby and you will have no further need of me.”
“Presumably.” Markle continued opening and closing the knife. It was disconcerting watching the blade flit back and forth, knowing what Markle had done to Steamer.
“Why are you waiting to meet with Mr Darcy?” she asked, keeping the fear from her voice as best she could. “Don’t you need your dear nephew to work in one of your smuggling crews?”
“I do want him, but not for the reasons you think,” he said, thumbing the blade before closing and opening it again. “I have no need of a gangly boy who would rather read than run brandy.”
A new fear settled into her heart. If Markle did not need Kirby, he had no reason to lure Darcy into an exchange. DidMarkle take her simply in order to kill her as punishment to Darcy for his plans going awry?
She felt all the varying emotions of fear and hope. She did not want to believe that she was about to die, that Markle never intended to trade her, that he did not want his nephew back. But it was a small, desperate hope that she clung to. Every other fact before her told her that she would never be released.
“You must have some affection for your sister’s child.” She had seen no evidence of this, but she frantically wanted it to be true.
“What I need is for Kirby to be loyal, and I cannot assure myself of that loyalty if he is not with me. So I need Mr Darcy to retrieve him.” He pointed at her with the knife. “Hence, my purpose with you. I suspect you can spur him to action.”
“Do you not care about Kirby at all?” The question came out even though his behaviour toward his nephew, toward everyone, answered for it.
“I care about loyalty and respect.”
Elizabeth thought power and control more apt, but stayed quiet on that point. “And Kirby disrespected you by leaving?”
