“Oh, please, stop saying that!” said Elizabeth.
CHAPTER SIX
I was on my belly, lying face down on the floor, my feet aimed at the edge where the steps had come off. I had determined this was the best way to get down.
This way, I could grip the ledge and lower myself down and dangle here, holding onto the ledge. It would mean that it was the shortest drop possible. It was the way.
Elizabeth had argued with me that it was too dangerous, but I had told her that I must try it, and she had eventually quieted. Now, she was perched in the doorway, biting down on her bottom lip, very nervous. “But if you break your leg, sir, what are we going to do?”
“I am not going to break my leg,” I said. “If I’m dangling, the drop is not too far.”
She chewed on her bottom lip.
I began to scoot myself backward, my feet going out over the edge.
“Be careful, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth. “Do be careful, please.”
“Obviously, I’m going to be careful,” I said, as I eased myself even further over the edge. “I shall be entirely careful. Do not worry.”
“Obviously, I am worried!” she cried.
I sighed and decided there was no need to talk. I eased myself further backward. Now, I could bend my legs so that they aimed downward at the floor. I pushed further back, careful, and then stopped.
I was going to need something to hold onto.
The railing that went across here, the railing I had attempted to straddle. That would do nicely. I would hold onto the part that was secure here, and I would dangle, holding tight to it, and then drop right down.
I scooted over to grasp it, and then, holding tightly, I pushed myself backward.
Elizabeth let out a cry when I was dangling there, which I actually didn’t mind. I wanted to cry out, too, but her cry saved me the trouble of doing it.
I was hanging here, holding onto the bottom of the railing, where it was secured into the floor above, with two hands, and I was now looking down at the drop, and I was realizing it was too far.
There were the shards of the steps, sticking straight up, but I could avoid them, except, if I did so, I would have to landthere, and it was too far. Even dropping like this, I could sense that I would do myself injury.
I was going to have to pull myself up.
My arms already hurt from the strain of holding myself now. I was a fairly active man. I rode horseback and slept outside and went hunting and all of those sorts of things, but I had to admit that it was very rarely in my life that I had to pull my full weight up without any help from my legs.
“Mr. Darcy?” called Elizabeth.
I could not answer her. I had to concentrate on this. I pictured myself doing it, yanking myself right back up there.
I looked down at the drop again, and I could not drop down. It was too far.
And then, my muscles screaming at me—not just the muscles in my arms and shoulders, but the ones in my back and the ones in my core—I did it. I pulled myself right back up and scrambled back onto the landing there.
I lay on the floor, panting.
“You didn’t drop,” came her voice.
“It was too far,” I said.
“I told you it was,” she said.
I shut my eyes. Yes, yes, women were always cautious about these sorts of things, but if we left it up to women, we’d never get out of any situation at all.
However, in this instance she was right.
