Page 40 of The Mistress of All & Torn

The earl took out the pistol and tried to shoot. Darcy fought with him, struggling to grab his hand. Elizabeth and Sarah tried to avoid the men, but the girl, injured and fearful, stumbled and fell down the first stair, with a cry of pain. Elizabeth knelt to grab her and while holding Sarah as tightly as she could, she heard more shouts, curses, the noise of fighting, and then a heavy, deep sound froze everybody in attendance. Elizabeth looked around and saw Lord Barrington, St. Claire, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy all falling together, rolling down the stairs.

Elizabeth’s heart stopped in panic, while the other men, as well as Lady Augusta, ran to the fallen ones. Mr. Darcy was the first to stand up, then Mr. Bingley, rubbing his leg and hand. Elizabeth sighed in relief.

St. Claire asked for help and was raised to his feet while he whined about his injured left leg and shoulder. Near him, Lord Barrington said nothing. His mother and Lambert called him and turned him on his back. His head fell to the side, but he remained still, his eyes wide open. The pistol was still in his hand.

The others called him again. Mr. Reeves—the trustee—looked closely, then said with stupefaction, “I am afraid Lord Barrington is dead.”

Silence and dumbfounded stares followed, then Lady Augusta shouted.

“Dead? What do you mean dead? How can he be dead?”

Mr. Gardiner hurried towards Elizabeth and immediately Darcy joined him. Elizabeth’s glance met his for an instant and then he averted his eyes and gently pulled her to her feet.

“Lizzy dear, are you hurt? Dear Lord,” Mr. Gardiner whispered.

“Sarah is hurt. Please...We must take care of her,” she whispered.

“We will take her,” Darcy said, and the man who had once been proud, arrogant, aloof and disdainful, lifted the servant girl in his arms, carrying her downstairs, while Elizabeth stepped hesitantly, supported by her uncle.

“You! You have murdered my son!” Lady Barrington shouted, cursing them.

“His own character and your negligence has murdered him, Lady Augusta. Let us pray God will forgive his soul, as people will certainly not,” Darcy said bluntly.

“But...I...You cannot leave! You have murdered my son! You will all be punished for your crime!”

“We all saw that it was an unfortunate accident. Would you not agree, gentlemen?” Mr. Gardiner addressed the gentlemen of the law.

“Indeed,” Mr. Reeves replied, and his colleagues approved silently. “A sad and tragic accident. I cannot believe it. We came for a civil conversation and instead…”

“Gentlemen, if there is anything else you need from us, we may speak again tomorrow. Now, we must leave. My niece and the young maid are badly injured and they need a doctor’s assistance,” Mr. Gardiner continued.

The two trustees and the executor remained behind, still numb with shock. They had never witnessed such scenes in their entire career.

“I believe there is nothing you may do now,” Mr. Thorn answered. “What a tragedy! So shocking! The family must prepare for the funeral, I imagine… There are many legal issues to be settled, but everything can be postponed… What a tragedy…” he ended, while Lady Augusta began to cry and to curse again.

With small steps, leaning on her uncle and Mr. Bingley while Mr. Darcy was still carrying Sarah, Elizabeth walked towards the door that began and would end her nightmare. From there, she turned and looked around the room. The gentlemen of the law, St. Claire, Lambert and Lady Augusta were huddled around Lord Barrington’s still body. For only a moment did her eyes linger upon the man lying at the bottom of the stairs, then she left, breathing the fresh air. She paused for a moment, looking back at the house, then turned towards her companions. Only then did she notice that there were another two carriages with strange men waiting—the ones whom she had screamed at earlier.

Darcy placed Sarah in the carriage, then he approached one of the men. After a brief discussion, the men left and he returned to them.

Elizabeth entered the carriage and sat next to Sarah. The three men sat together in front of her and the carriage finally moved off.

“Lady Barrington?” Sarah whispered.

“Yes, my dear. Can you sit comfortably? Would you be better to lie on the bench?”

“I am fine. Ma’am, are we saved?”

“Yes, my dear. We are saved.”

“But the earl?”

“The earl is dead,” she said.

Sarah stared at her in disbelief, then tears rolled down her face while she repeated, “we are saved.”

During the journey, Elizabeth barely moved. The men had no courage to enquire further, nor to even look at her closely enough. She imagined how ill her face must have looked but she did not feel the pain any longer.

“You will need a doctor,” Mr. Darcy said. “Immediately.”