“Fine, woman! Here.”
He shoved his arm toward me, but I was too shocked by his use of the wordwomanto do anything but stare at him, open-mouthed. Howdare he talk to me like that? I was about to give him a bollocking when I glanced down, and my heart stopped beating for the second time in twenty-four hours.
Two of Mr. Darcy’s fingers had disappeared.
Chapter Twenty
“What the hell happened?”
I grabbed his hand to check that this wasn’t some weird joke and Darcy was hiding his fingers from me. But no, where his little and ring fingers should have been was nothing but air, the skin on his knuckle as smooth as if they had never existed.
“It is unclear,” Darcy said. “Last night when I tried to carry some beer glasses, I noticed something amiss with these two fingers, as if they had somehow become weaker, and then this morning I struggled to dress myself and hold a knife. But it was not until moments ago that I discovered they had gone altogether.”
“Does it hurt?”
“It has started to become a little uncomfortable, yes.”
“Has anything like this ever happened to you before?”
Darcy shook his head. “I assure you, no appendage of mine has ever disappeared prior to today.”
I racked my brain, trying to work out what could be going on. And then Nick’s words flashed through my mind.
We need to get him back before the damage is irreparable.
“Shit, Darcy! We need to get you to London,now.”
* * *
The return train journey seemed to take forever. Darcy sat silently next to the window, staring out of it with his right hand held limply in his lap. He didn’t make conversation or ask me what I’d been going to tell him earlier, so I was left to wallow in my own increasingly panicky thoughts. Why the hell hadn’t Nick told me that bits of Darcy would start to disappear? I might have taken his warnings a little more seriously if I’d known exactly what “damage” he’d been referring to. I felt my stomach roll again, and I took a deep breath. It was going to be OK. I just needed to take Darcy to Baskerville Books, and then Nick would be able to save him before he lost any more body parts.
I pulled out my phone and messaged Steve, asking him to send me Nick’s number. Once I had it, I fired off a quick message to Nick, telling him I urgently needed to see him. He replied almost immediately with no questions or accusations, just two sentences.
Come to Baskerville Books as soon as you can. Bring Darcy and the book.
When we got to Paddington Station, I tried to lead Darcy to the Underground, but he was looking a little unsteady on his feet, so I hailed a taxi instead. He closed his eyes for the journey, and I sat there bouncing my foot on the floor, cursing every traffic light and pedestrian crossing. It was almost 4:00 p.m. by the time we got back to the flat, and Darcy was looking quite pale.
“We won’t stop here long,” I told him as I helped him up the stairs.“I just need to grab something, and then we can go straight to see a man who will hopefully be able to help you.”
I let us into the flat and rushed straight to the bedroom, where I’d left the stolen copy ofPride and Prejudice. When I ran back out to the living room, I found Darcy half sitting, half lying on the sofa.
“Sorry, Darcy, but there’s no time to rest now.”
He looked up at me, his face gray. “My apologies, but I fear I am unable to go any further at present.”
“What’s wrong? Has anything else disappeared?”
“No, but I am deeply fatigued and in need of rest.”
“You can’t now. I need to get you to Baskerville Books.”
He frowned. “Why a bookshop? Surely a physician would be of more use.”
“I don’t have time to explain. Please just come with me.”
In response, he sank back into the sofa farther and closed his eyes. “I require a short nap, which I believe will restore me so that I may continue this journey with you.”
I sighed and put the book down so I could try to pull him up, but the man was a deadweight. I let out a growl of frustration.
