Chapter Eleven: What Have They Done?
Elizabeth did not stir for hours. Lydia was consumed in fright. Her encounter with Mr. Darcy made her realize how truly powerful her situation was. Nobody could rescue them. They might just be trapped here for all their days. And if Elizabeth did not wake… Lydia shook her mind from the thought, only concentrating on the little comfort she could give her sister. She knew that sleep must be her only relief, but the gravity of their position was absolutely horrifying. She stroked Elizabeth's hair and sang her a lullaby, and eventually, drifted off to sleep.
Mr. Darcy carefully crept into the kitchen. The darkness of the night was miraculously good cover. The cellar was bolted shut, but needed no key. He was relieved of that obligation. He silently undid the lock, and eased the door open. There they were. Lydia was leaned against the wall, Elizabeth's head draped across her lap. They were both in slumber, but no matter the depth of their sleep, they both looked exhausted. He inched over to where they were, and he gently shook Lydia. She had obviously become alert in her time spent captive, and jerked awake. She breathed relief. The look on her face was clear; they were saved.
He lifted Elizabeth in his arms, and motioned for Lydia to follow him. She did, and together, they reached the outside. As soon as they were safely in the carriage, Lydia began to weep joy. Mr. Darcy tried to soothe her, but his efforts were to no avail. When she had finally calmed enough to speak, he began to quiz her. "What happened to Elizabeth?" All her bruises pained him; they were so many, they were almost one bruise completely. "Wickham was very angry that she fought back. She often hit him for me, so that he wouldn't hurt me. He must have struck her over a hundred times. I was forced to watch every time. Lizzy was so worried that she would be trapped there and never see-" Lydia stopped herself before she revealed her sister's secret. "Never see what?" he asked gently. "You. She was worried she would never see you again," Lydia finished embarrassedly. Darcy felt his ears tinge red, but then asked her why she had not asked for escape today when he was there earlier. "Wickham told me not to. He was going to hurt me and Lizzy if I didn't agree. When Elizabeth got mad at him, she started striking him. Wickham kicked her, knocking the wind out of her, and then he knocked her out. She hasn't woken up since," Lydia answered softly. She looked lovingly at her sister, her protector. If it hadn't been for Elizabeth, she might have been dead.
They finally reached their destination. The footman opened the door, and Lydia stepped out, followed by Mr. Darcy, still carrying Elizabeth. Her pale face, covered in blue sickened him. He wished he could have been there, to stop Wickham from ever hurting her. But it was done, and he could do nothing about it. Lydia pounded the Gardiner's door, until finally, a disshelved Mr. Gardiner answered the door. Nothing could have been expected less, than the appearance of his two missing nieces. Elizabeth was immediately put in a nightgown, and put to bed. Mrs. Gardiner put soothing cool cloths on her body, and even procured some ice for her larger welts. Mr. Darcy was invited to stay for the rest of the night, considering how late it was. He accepted, and though he gave his tiredness as his alibi, his real reason was to see if Elizabeth would awaken. He thought of her maimed body, given in the sacrificial place of her sister, and silently cried. Oh, Elizabeth dear, what has he done to you?
