Chapter 40
Elizabeth managed to conceal herself against the wall.
Holding her breath, she closed her eyes when she heard Henry's voice cry out.
"What do you mean she's not there?"
"Hurry in and see for yourself, if you don't believe me," the voice answered. She could tell that this one wasn't Oliver; he must have be one of the comrades who had snuck into the house and she wasn't able to distinguish one from the other but she knew that he was upset and mad. She swallowed and she reached out, using her hands, touching the bricks of the building, as she heard thundering footsteps make their way towards the window and she slid down, praying that Henry wouldn't spot her underneath.
"She managed to pry open the window and sneak out," his voice spoke above her. Elizabeth could have promised herself that she could smell the odor of wine in his breath as he continued.
"She isn't far off; I can sense that feeling anywhere. Besides," she was grateful she had hidden herself now, as he slipped back inside.
"The gates are locked and there's no way she'll be able to escape to call for help. Oliver has the keys and the barn's burnt so she won't have a way to hide. Search the grounds; she's concealing herself outside and the moon's bright enough for none of you to use lanterns."
"Right on it, sir."
"And once we're through with her," Elizabeth heard Henry's voice cry out.
"We'll deal with Fitzwilliam. I know Oliver's making sure he's still here before we finish the two of them off!"
Upon hearing this, Elizabeth's heart gave a thump of hope. Her husband was still alive but was suffering from the blow of the bullet and the bleeding. She didn't need to remember how he appeared to quickly figure out a way to make sure her escape would work but how was she able to manage that?
She had overheard enough conversation to figure out a few things: the gates were locked and Oliver had the keys. Inside, the majority of the servants, including her brother and uncle, were either gagged or put to sleep with that knockout powder, unless there was something worse, the barn was gone, and Fitzwilliam was upstairs, a prisoner and wounded besides.
"Dying because of how blind we were to what our fathers wished to inform us about the concealed inheritance," she thought as she glanced back and forth, trying to hear if Henry's rats were making their way out of the manor and preparing themselves to scout the area, wondering where she would be. Returning, she knew she had to move fast; she swallowed and waited to hear if the front doors would open. The area where she was stationed wasn't far away from the front entrance and Elizabeth wished that the barn hadn't been burnt as it'd been but she knew that if it had, she wouldn't have much of a chance to escape. Hiding in the hayloft wouldn't have done any great for her, she thought, as she waited. But she was hatching a plan when she suddenly heard voices exclaim.
"Search the grounds and make sure she doesn't escape!"
There was no time to waste.
Elizabeth knew exactly where she wished to run. Her destination wasn't aimed at the front gates; no! She knew the grounds of Hawkswood Manor better than any of the other servants and she would avoid the front gates. Her heart pounded when she remembered that probably that was where Henry's men figured she would run to but she knew another way and she was feeling her heart beat when she realized that she'd run outside without wearing shoes. She swallowed and glanced over to her left and she could hear the men stepping from the front entrance and making their way around to scout.
It was now or never.
Clasping her nightgown in her hand, Elizabeth dashed forward and didn't look back when she heard a voice shout.
"There she is! Stop her!"
Elizabeth heard this and quickened her run, praying that she would have the strength to do what she was intending to do. She rushed across the lawn, feeling the dampness of the grass, prickles here and there, and she winced several times when she realized that the thorns inside the lawn, which were small, were tearing the skin underneath her feet but she knew she had to sacrifice her shoes for the men inside whom she loved. Especially the one she had witnessed who got shot at and she didn't yearn to have him leave her and she would be his widow. She raced as fast as she could to a nearby tree with the men behind her, shouting and this frightened her; if only Fitzwilliam hadn't been shot!
The wind blew in her hair and it stung her eyes as she ran towards one of the trees located to the right of the wall which concealed the manor to keep others outside away. Elizabeth prayed and made it just in time. She continued to pray as she raised her hands and in a fast motion, clasped one of the branches and pulled herself up. Like a cat, she used her muscles, which hurt in her back, to pull herself more and then she heard a fire of a gun.
"Shoot the branch down! She can't escape!"
She glanced over and the wind blew in her hair again. She pressed her lips together when one of the men used his pistol to target the large branch she was holding onto for dear life. She angrily shook her head and she moved her body around the branch, similar to a slug wrapping itself around rock, and she managed to climb up and touched another branch. She kept in mind where the man with the pistol was aiming his gun at. She had seen where the bullet had hit and it was by a her prayers, her heart informed her, and her Guardian Angel, that she was able to be where she was now: in this moment, Elizabeth was climbing faster than she'd ever climbed before in her life!
She glanced down before she continued her assent and she heard the men's voices below.
"How in the world did she do that?!"
"I can't see her!"
"That's because the spring leaves are in blossom!"
"She's up there!"
"Use the gun to fire at her!"
"Are you insane?! This time, I won't because he wants her in one piece!"
"Chop it down!"
"How? The barn's been burnt!"
"No it hasn't," a voice Elizabeth knew all too well spoke and she felt her heart beat again.
Oliver.
"Use this and cut it down."
"You're out of breath."
"Not when he's been watching from up in the bedroom."
"He's got him by the throat, doesn't he?"
"He sure does and he's lost his strength."
Elizabeth knew they were discussing Fitzwilliam and her heart nearly went dry but she knew she had to do it. She knew she had to get help before it was too late. Then she felt something move. She clung to the trunk of the tree when she realized that the men down below, no thanks to Oliver, where using a thick ax to chop away the tree and she knew that the one she was on, had been structured there for a long time but she could tell that the ax was already doing its work by the guider. She swallowed and she glanced over towards the wall. The movement of the tree could be heard as if a giant were stomping around the lawn and wished to seek her out and take her home. She knew she had to do it.
Clinging on to dear life, she prayed.
"Father in Heaven? Make sure I live!"
And turning to her left, she turned, allowed her hands to free themselves loose from the trunk, before she jumped from the branch she was standing on, hoping to leap over the wall. She continued to pray hoping that God would answer her prayer.
She landed on something soft with a gentle but obvious thud.
Instead of falling into doom, which she had prayed she wouldn't, when Elizabeth opened her eyes, she realized the location where she had ended up in. There, assuming she would have jumped and landed on the street, her leap harled her across and she found herself inside a hay wagon. She let out a cry of thanks and she basked in thanksgiving and praise to God for having answered her prayer. She was so relieved as she wept out loud, feeling her heart feel the loving answer of her Father in Heaven when a gruff voice exclaimed.
"Excuse me! But who just startled me horse?!"
Raising her head, Elizabeth peered up and spotted the owner of the wagon. His hands were on hips and the startled horse, who was to the right of Elizabeth, reared in response. She could tell that this man was the owner but he also didn't suspect a thing about what was occurring in behind the wall and inside Hawkswood Manor. She frowned as she eased herself up before she realized that she was in a bit of pain. If any, the thorns in her feet were starting to hurt so she knew she needed to explain herself. When she made her appearance known, the startled wagon owner widened his eyes as he exclaimed.
"Oh! Not a troll?!"
"Pardon me for having frightened you and your horse, sir," Elizabeth explained as she glanced above her. She knew that Henry's men had witnessed her leap and Oliver, too. She continued on.
"I'm not a troll and I can't explain much."
"You'd best explain why you're in my wagon, than," he answered and Elizabeth detected that she wouldn't be allowed her freedom until she answered him in a logical way. She had encountered men and women such as these in her early years but she also knew that when they asked for an explanation on the spot, she had to surprise it herself. She knew precisely what to say to calm his nerves as she answered.
"I'm Mrs. Darcy of Hawkswood Manor and my husband, brother, and uncle have been poisoned and shot inside and taken prisoners for concealed gold bars which are stored away within the manor. Urgent need has called me to do what I did, sir. I'm sure you've heard of me unless you're new to the area?"
The man's eyes widened and he took a step back.
It took a while for him to realize who he was speaking with and when he met Elizabeth's eyes, she was relieved to witness that he rushed over to where the seat of the wagon was, hoisted himself up, and without a word, grasped the reins, and slapping the horse, let out a loud.
"He-haw!" and their ride moved forward and Elizabeth fell backwards but landed on the soft hay as her ride left the location near the street and into Charleston. The two of them could hear shouts from behind them and when Elizabeth crawled over to spot what was happening, she felt her heart beat when she spotted Oliver, along with the other men, opening the gates and they all were on horses. One of the men had tossed the ax aside and she could tell that the chopping of the tree had done little to help them so she quickly ducked again before she exclaimed.
"Driver! Make haste into town!"
The man only glanced over his shoulder and when he too spotted the henchmen behind him, only slapped the reins harder and the wagon lurched forward and within moments, Elizabeth could feel the how fast her ride was traveling and she could feel the impact of the road under her.
She only prayed that the man she was with wasn't one of the henchmen because if he was, she would be in more trouble than she was safe. She prayed a Hail Mary to help her as the ride speed along the road.
Henry crossed his arms as he paced back and forth in the bedroom.
He had witnessed what had happened outside and he growled when he watched how Elizabeth had leap over the wall and landed goodness knew where! He hoped that her end would have been on the ground but when he heard Oliver's cry and direction to round up the horses and ride into town, he knew that something had occurred on the other side and he clenched his teeth together when he heard this.
He didn't need to know who was out there; he needed to make sure that Fitzwilliam answered his question because he didn't bother to step out and help Oliver when Elizabeth had vanished from the servant's bedroom, slipped through the window, out on the lawn, before she hurriedly across, climbed that tree, and then jumped over and disappeared.
"Do hurry up and don't delay," he spoke as he stared out the window. He knew that Fitzwilliam was in the room but the man didn't have the energy to fight him and this pleased Henry greatly. He also knew that the two downstairs, the uncle and brother, were also feeling the sting of his wrath and neither of them bore the strength to fight him either. His plan had worked and he was thrilled to know that the inherited gold would be his and all his father's wishes which he had been told about when he was a boy, though his father had died, would be fulfilled and all those "heirs" to the gold would be gone and he would be able to live within Hawkswood and dwell in a land where no one would bother him and he would become what his father would have desired him to become! He laughed out loud when he heard a voice speak.
"Henry Kingston… how dare you?!"
"And I thought you were too weak to speak," he answered but didn't meet Fitzwilliam's gaze.
"Didn't I do a grand job shooting you like that?"
He heard a cough but he didn't bother to glance over when the answering voice replied.
"How… dare… you…?"
"Why don't you keep you cork shut and don't speak, Fitzwilliam Joseph Darcy?! It's best for you to save that strength so when Oliver returns with your wife, I'll be able to finish the two of you off before I open that secret compartment and the gold will be mine!"
The doctor heard a pounding on his door.
When he heard a familiar voice speak, his eyes instantly opened and he leap from his bed, and not caring how he appeared, rushed out of the bedroom, and when he reached the front doors, he unlocked it, and flung it open with a bang. The sight he witnessed told him that he didn't need words or explanations to know why she had rattled on and her urgency in her eyes revealed the unspoken message. The man behind her nodded and when he read this, he knew exactly what had happened and he needed no further bidding. They all could only imagine the rambling of the others behind them as he spoke.
"Out the back door and hurry."
Elizabeth and the hay wagon coachman nodded before both rushed inside and the doctor closed the door behind them. He knew that Elizabeth needed his help and the coachman was a part of the plan where her father and her husband's father had informed them about and he was relieved to see that she was fine but he knew that her husband had been the target. He knew too that the painting was inside his house but he didn't long to have Oliver, that well for nothing butler, didn't know how Fitzwilliam had managed to sneak it into his house as a disguise. He swallowed when he quickly urged.
"Elizabeth! Make sure that you exit the back way and have the coachman help you with the painting! There's already a horse ready and he's sturdy for the job!"
He made a quick eye contact with the coachman, whom he knew, as he finished.
"Fitzwilliam already had it prepared for the ride already! Make haste because I know they're not far behind!"
Elizabeth nodded as did the coachman, whose name was unknown, as the two rushed through the doctor's house, through the kitchen, and out the back doors, which led to the man's small but humble stables where the horse in waiting was ready. The doctor's heart pounded when he knew why Mrs. Darcy had appeared the way she did a few seconds ago and the coachman, who was only delivering the hay for the manor for the spring show, knew more than he ever did but he was thankful that his ride was there and had dashed her to his house in time. He also knew that Henry Kingston had done what his father would have wished him to do and he felt angry when he remembered how Oliver had been there and aided him with the plan. He swallowed as he made a fist and stepping towards the window, he saw their figures and he knew they didn't have enough time. He swallowed and prayed as he made his way away from the window and rushed out a different way. He had to make sure that Oliver and the others were diverted a little bit to permit Elizabeth to return to Hawkswood with the painting and to save those within.
His own heart thumped and pounded when he noticed the couch near in the living room. He was older in years but possessed strength and he knew exactly how he would distract them; at least for a while, he thought, as he rushed over and quickly took hold of the furniture, he pulled it across the room and had it set against the door leading to his house. He prayed before he turned around and exited the main room. He heard a loud bang echo from behind him as a voice shouted.
"Break it down! He's bolted it with that couch!"
"I can hear them!" the coachman spoke.
"Place your foot on my hand and I'll push you up and then you'll escape the back way!"
Elizabeth felt her heart beat and her hands tremble but she did as she was instructed. She prayed and swallowed as the mysterious stranger, who was the coachman, helped her up on a really strong stallion, who seemed to know what was happening, gently took hold of her foot and pushed her up on the bareback horse with a the painting of Our Lady of Perpetual Help, which was in a satchel, and soon she was mounted. She swallowed when she peered down and nodded; she was waiting for her next instruction when the two widened their eyes when the fire of a gun was heard.
"No time to be wasted," he spoke to her urgently.
"Out the back door and don't look back."
Elizabeth didn't need to know what had happened and she prayed for the doctor's soul. She felt her mouth dry as she directed the stallion over to the left and the doors were already opened. What kind of a nightmare had she gotten herself into? She wondered if she were dreaming and all this would disappear but she knew that it wasn't a dream. She was awake and the following events were happening and she was the only one who would be able to help them and she knew that her husband needed her. She remembered everything and how he'd been gentle with her and how he had loved her beyond that of the "arranged marriage," which was explained and easy for her to understand, as well as Fitzwilliam, and she knew why her father had disappeared along with her mama, and why Fitzwilliam and her had been arranged to marry with such haste, no questions asked. She didn't have enough time to ponder this when her mysterious coachman finished, who was by the doors of the doctor's stables.
"Hurry and do not look back!"
Elizabeth nodded and slapping the reins, she galloped forward and with the wind blowing through her hair, she narrowed her eyes, and with a pounding heart, darted out of the stables and was again on the road, returning to Hawkswood. She prayed that she wouldn't be too late and hoped that the doctor and the mysterious coachman would be fine and Fitzwilliam, as well as her brother and uncle, would be alive by the time she returned! She prayed as she rode along but didn't glance back as she galloped forward. Pressing her lips together, with the wind stinging her eyes, she pushed her legs into her horse's sides as she whispered.
"Move on!"