The other man tried to comfort Darcy. “There was no way any of us could have heard her. The chimney carried most of the smoke out, and the fire had only just been lit. She was probably in there less than a quarter of an hour.”
It had felt longer. It had felt as though she was being smothered as the fire built and smoke filled the room. Although it was hotter on the floor just above the firebox, it had been easier to breathe down there, and she had banged and kicked at the door until the smoke had suffocated her and she drifted to sleep.
“Markle is a shockingly cruel man,” Darcy said, his hand gently stroking her hair.
“He will be punished for it,” said the other man. “Well, perhaps not precisely for this, although he certainly should be. We shall see what the courts decide to prosecute. With Kirby’s testimony, Mr Markle will hang for his murder of my colleague. Messrs Conway and Colton will be punished for their part as well.”
That was a relief, that all of her fear and injury had been worth it. She wondered if Darcy saw it that way. She had been hurt, so of course he would think of that and not about their success.
“When we get there, should I come in with you?” This sounded like Kirby, who sat across with the other man. Why was he not far away from all of this?
“No, the Gardiners will have enough to manage. Mr Sullivan will see you to Charles Street. I will be with the Gardiners for a long while. There will be much for me to explain.”
Darcy sounded distressed. Elizabeth tried to tell him he need not confess their scheme, but began wheezing instead. Darcy started in surprise and then sat her up. “Don’t try to talk, dearest.”
He took out a handkerchief and dried the soot from around her nose. He then handed it to her as she coughed harder. She was still coughing up grey saliva when the carriage stopped.
She felt better now that she was removed from the smoke and was almost cheerful by the time they reached the Gardiners. Her family must have been told to expect her, because as soon as the steps were folded down, Jane and her aunt ran out the door. Elizabeth tried to walk into the house but doubled over from wheezing. Darcy picked her up and carried her up the stairs, and everything after that was hazy disorder. Her aunt and uncle asked a thousand questions as he carried her past them,and in her confusion, she thought she glimpsed her father in the vestibule.
Then everyone was gone, and she was changed out of her smoky clothes. A surgeon examined her, and Jane sat by her side with tears in her eyes. Why was Jane distraught when Elizabeth felt overjoyed? Her elation built as she looked round the room, trying to take in a full breath. She was home, and aside from a little smoke, she was perfectly well. Markle was arrested; everyone should be as elated as she was.
The surgeon opened the door to let in the Gardiners. She heard Darcy behind them, and she thought she even heard her father’s voice. How absurd to imagine that when he was at Longbourn?
When she saw Darcy’s concerned face, Elizabeth cried out cheerfully, “We did it!”
Everyone gave her a strange look, except for Darcy, who turned pink and stayed by the door. Her voice was hoarse, but that was nothing to be worried about. Markle could never hurt anyone again.
“She is not burnt, but the consequences of smoke often show up hours later,” the surgeon said to the men in the room rather than to her. She had just helped to preserve them all from a murderer, but she was not addressed directly about her own injuries. “Fine particles in smoke are irritating to the air passages.”
“What will her recovery be like?”
It was her father who asked this, looking grave as he moved through the crowd to take Jane’s place by her side.
“What are you doing here?” she exclaimed, taking his hand. Her father hated London, and hated exertion even more.
“When one receives an express that one’s daughter has been kidnapped a second time, even I must leave the comfort of my library. I came to do what I could to recover you. And then not afew hours after I arrived, a frantic-looking colonel burst in to say to expect you directly and that a surgeon was coming.”
“It all worked out—you need not have come—but I am pleased to see you,” she cried before coughing. “I have news, Papa.”
She looked at Darcy with a wide smile, but rather than return it, he said, “Perhaps we ought to let the surgeon finish.” He gave a cautious look to her father. “There is time for that later.”
The surgeon resumed. “She may suffer from continued catarrh and colds for a time, but overall, she is fortunate.”
“I feel perfectly well,” she cried before clearing her throat. “A little hoarse, perhaps, but well. It worked, Darcy! Markle is arrested and Kirby is free from him, your sister is safe, and we can all move forward. My dear Darcy, why are you not glad?”
No one in the room met her wide smiles.
“After all she has been through, why is Miss Elizabeth giddy?” Darcy asked the surgeon. He sounded dreadfully worried, and the rest of her family was sharing concerned looks.
“Euphoria, as she recovers from the smoke inhalation, is not uncommon,” the surgeon said kindly. “It will not last.”
He spared a few words for her father and then left. She felt quite jubilant. Markle was arrested; Kirby was free; her scheme had worked. Darcy had brought the excise men before any lasting harm could be done. Her father was here, and now she could marry Darcy. Everything was settled, so why did everyone look sombre?
“Thank you for recovering her, Mr Darcy,” her father said insistently while bowing. Darcy, his expression tight, said he deserved no thanks and that he would return tomorrow to call on Miss Elizabeth.
She would not tolerate Darcy being dismissed. “No, Darcy must stay!” she told her father. “I need him to stay.” She heldout her other hand to Darcy. He stepped forward, but after a cautious look at her father, he bowed instead.
“It is midnight, Lizzy, and you have been missing since this morning.” Her father sounded weary. “For now, you must rest. You will have many questions to answer tomorrow about what happened and who is responsible.”
