Darcy.
Elizabeth could scarcely believe the vision before her eyes. She blinked twice, a third time—he was still there.
As her hands began to shake and her knees to weaken, her vision became blurred. For half a heartbeat she thought herself on the verge of swooning, then realized it was tears that clouded her vision. Tears of joy. Tears of the most profound relief she had ever known.
They were saved.
The rifle in her hands slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor, and Elizabeth was not long in following. She dropped to her knees and lifted her hands to her swollen face, and Maria was soon kneeling next to her, wrapping her arms about her shoulders as she, too, sobbed.
"We're saved, Lizzy!" she cried. "W-we're saved! We're saved!"
Elizabeth heard Darcy set down the pistol he'd been holding, then coming nearer. She sensed him kneeling before her. "Thank God," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "What happened to you? Where have you been?"
Beside her, Maria sniffled. "We were t-taken in Bromley, right outside the c-coaching inn. I d-don't know where we've been. Don't even know exactly where we are now, sir."
"You are in Derbyshire, in a forest that spans much of the northernmost border of my property."
Warm hands, touching her with hesitation, gently pried Elizabeth's hands away from her face. She could not look up at him, could not bear to see disgust or pity in his countenance.
"Elizabeth? Are you well?"
She could only nod.
"Will you not lift your eyes, and grant me the very great pleasure of seeing yours again?" Darcy asked softly.
A sigh escaped her, and dreading what expression she would find, Elizabeth looked up. To her relief, she saw only happiness in his eyes—he was pleased to have found them.
"Can you tell me how you came to be here?"
Elizabeth looked to Maria, who looked to Darcy and said, "She can't talk—has barely been able to eat or drink for going on a se'nnight. Her jaw's dislocated."
Fury filled Darcy's eyes and his jaw clenched. "Who did this?"
"We've no idea who took us, or who bought us," Maria replied.
"Bought you?!" Darcy cried sharply, his tone leading both Elizabeth and Maria to flinch. "Pray forgive me," he said immediately in a softer tone. "I did not mean to frighten you."
Elizabeth looked again to Maria, and again the younger girl turned to Darcy to speak for her. "It's all right, sir. It's just… it's been a very difficult time for us. Can you tell us what day it is?"
Darcy nodded. "It is Saturday, 1 May 1813."
"Good God… A whole year has gone by, Lizzy," Maria murmured.
"Indeed, Miss Lucas," said Darcy. "May it bring you both much comfort to know that your families have not given up hope of finding you."
Elizabeth looked up, suddenly desperate to know about her family. About Jane, her father…all of them! Maria, she knew, was equally as thirsty for news of her family; she began peppering Darcy with questions, giving him no time to answer one before she asked another.
After a moment he chuckled and said, "I will answer all your questions if I am able, but let us first get up from the floor."
"Oh yes. Yes, of course," Maria said. "Come Lizzy—let us behave like the civilized creatures we used to be, if we can remember how."
Elizabeth chuckled and nodded, wiped at her face as she stood, then turned to help Maria to her feet. She could almost feel Darcy's astonishment when he took note of her friend's condition, and looked to him knowing that her gaze dared him to judge.
He did not. Darcy's expression as he took in the state of Charlotte's sister held only sympathy. He then gestured toward the table, allowing them to go before him; he pulled out their chairs for them—a courtesy neither had experienced in the last twelvemonth. The pistol he picked up and put in his jacket pocket.
"Can I get you anything? Water, perhaps?" he asked kindly.
Maria pointed to the cupboard. "I think she put the flask we took in there."
Darcy turned to the cupboard and retrieved the flask from the shelf. Maria took it first and drank almost greedily before passing it to Elizabeth, who drank just as much though it took her longer. Because she could not properly open her mouth, she dribbled some, and for the first time in a year felt a blush rise in her cheeks.
Darcy wordlessly held out a handkerchief. Elizabeth took it, tears slipping from her eyes again at the simple, kind gesture—at the softness of the linen, of all things to cry about.
For the next quarter hour, he told them about their families. Maria cried when she heard how despondent her mother had been on hearing of her abduction, but was happy to hear that her father and elder brothers had been active in the search for them. She and Elizabeth were both of them happy for Charlotte on learning that she and Mr. Collins had a daughter born only two months past. That she was called Catherine, after their patroness—who was Darcy's aunt—was no surprise to either.
Elizabeth was sorry to learn that it was her disappearance which had brought Bingley and Jane back together, but she was beyond pleased for her sister on hearing they were married and expecting a child in the autumn. Mr. Bennet had taken the loss of his favorite daughter very hard, but he had also taken it very much to heart. Mary, Kitty, and Lydia had lost the privilege of being out in society and could not go anywhere without escort by himself and a footman, which had bothered Mary not at all and the two youngest girls the most. Elizabeth did not doubt that they were sorry for the loss of her in their own way, but sadly, Kitty and Lydia were selfish creatures—they always had been, Lydia especially so.
"Though I will say that Miss Catherine stays often with Charles and Jane at Netherfield, and has in the last six months or so improved," said Darcy with a wry grin. "I daresay there is yet hope of true remedy for her."
Maria snorted softly. "But not Lydia, I am sure."
Darcy's eyes flicked to Elizabeth. "I do not like to speak ill of anyone, though you may once have believed otherwise, but… yes. Miss Lydia remains rather recalcitrant. When the militia prepared to remove to Brighton that summer, Mrs. Forster invited her to go along, but your father denied her. She tried to run away that she could go without his consent, and was afterward locked in her room until they had gone. Miss Lydia then snuck out of the house to visit with her friends a number of times, after which your father restricted her to the nursery until she could amend her behavior and follow his rules. I believe the nursery is still her room."
What of my mother? Elizabeth wanted to ask. He has not spoken of my mother.
"What about Mrs. Bennet, sir?" Maria asked, much to her relief.
Again his eyes flicked between them. "Mrs. Bennet was abed with grief for many months, though I heard recently from Mr. Gardiner that she has of late begun to improve."
Elizabeth looked to him with some surprise. On noting her expression, he chuckled and said, "Yes, I have met your mother's brother—I would even say the tragedy of losing you, and our efforts to find you, has made us friends. I can assure you, Elizabeth, that I have no scruple about being seen entering a house in Cheapside."
Darcy then looked to Maria and asked her how they had come to the cabin. Elizabeth looked to her, expressing with her eyes as best she could what she wanted her to say and hoped she would not reveal. Thankfully, they had been forced to be in such close company for so long that Maria easily understood what she at present could not say. The younger girl then looked to Darcy and explained in simple terms how they had been left alone in the house where they were kept, which they had not been before, and took advantage of the opportunity to make their escape.
"We were so very afraid he was testing us, or that he would come back again—or that one of his friends might catch us—that we took hardly anything with us," said Maria. "Really it was only the flask for water and a small basket of food, which we ate quickly, for he often denied us anything to eat. We've been walking through these woods for a week."
"Was it…" Darcy paused, and Elizabeth noted a vein throbbing in his jaw. "Was it the incident that gave Elizabeth her injury that motivated you?"
Both of then nodded, and Maria added, "It was also my child, sir. I believe I am due soon, though I am not precisely sure if it is only a fortnight or a whole month from coming. It's been rather hard to keep track of the days, you see. Anyway, he said he was going to 'get rid of it.' Said he would sell it to some couple who wanted a brat, as he put it, but couldn't have their own."
She paused and laid her hands atop her belly. "I don't know who the father of this baby is. There were too many we were forced to… Well, there was more than one. I don't know which of them sired this child. And may God forgive me, but for the longest time I didn't want it. I hoped I would lose it. I thought no proper gentleman would want me after what we'd been through, if we should ever be rescued, and certainly wouldn't want the responsibility of a bastard child sired by a monster. But as the little one has grown and I've felt it move, I came to realize it's not her fault—or his, if it should be a boy. Just like it's not my fault; I was forced to lay with those men, and this baby didn't ask to be created. I'm sure I shall have to raise it alone, but I will raise it myself, for this is the only good thing to come out of that hellish nightmare."
Darcy nodded his approval. "As well you should," said he. "And you need not worry for your welfare, Miss Lucas. I'll see to a situation for you."
Elizabeth shared a look of surprise with Maria, and knew her expression as she looked back to Darcy was just as curious as the other girl's spoken question.
"You would truly aid me, sir?" she asked.
Again he nodded. "I will, of course, see to it you are reunited with your families, but should they for any reason not accept you at Lucas Lodge—"
"Oh! Oh my, I don't know that I'd even considered that," interjected Maria, her eyes filling with a new freshet of tears. "I suppose that's a possibility, isn't it? That my mother and father may not even allow me to come back home for the shame and disgrace my conceiving out of wedlock will bring on the family."
Elizabeth wanted to tell her how much she was wrong, but knew she was not. Even though what had happened to their daughter was not at all her fault, the fact that she intended to keep the child might be perceived as a disgrace by Sir William and Lady Lucas. Maria's child would be a blight on the family honor, the dirty little secret that was best kept away from the view of polite society. It was entirely possible that Maria's parents would want her to remain hidden away until she'd had the child, which they could then have quietly adopted to some childless couple unknown to their neighbors, before they'd let her come home.
"Miss Lucas, pray do not distress yourself," Darcy said softly. "While what you say is regrettably a real possibility, you should not allow any shame they may feel to be yours—you've done nothing wrong. I will see to it you have a home in which to raise your son or daughter."
Maria began to sob, and leaned over to lay her head on Elizabeth's shoulder. Elizabeth held her, her own turmoil temporarily forgotten in light of the immeasurable kindness Darcy offered and Maria's relief in it. She glanced at him sidelong, hoping that he could see her gratitude that he was being so generous. Darcy offered a small smile of acknowledgment.
After a few moments, Maria quieted. She sat up and sniffled, and Elizabeth gave her the handkerchief she still held to dry her face.
"I should like to take you back to Pemberley," said Darcy, "if you are feeling well enough to travel some more. You'll be able to bathe, put on clean clothing, and eat as much as you care to—in your case, Elizabeth, as much as you are able. I'll have the doctor summoned from Lambton to examine you both, if you're comfortable with that. The physician there is a good man, and I can assure you he will be kind, and as gentle as he is able."
"Will he be able to fix Lizzy's jaw?" Maria asked.
Darcy smiled. "I am certain of it. One of my tenants suffered a dislocated jaw this autumn past after falling from his horse, and Dr. Jones was—what is it, Elizabeth?"
On hearing the name of Lambton's village doctor, Elizabeth had started. Her Aunt Gardiner's maiden name was Jones—though not of the same family as Mr. Jones, Meryton's apothecary—and she'd told Elizabeth once of a cousin who still lived in the area who was, at the time, at university learning to practice medicine. Could it be the same man, she wondered?
Looking to Maria, she tried to convey the message that she recognized the name; again Maria seemed to understand her. "I think Lizzy recognizes the name of the doctor you mentioned."
Relief relaxed Darcy's worried features. "Oh. I wondered if you might—I know he is a cousin of Mrs. Gardiner."
Elizabeth tried to smile; she could not properly, but her lips twitched and she sensed Darcy understood that she wished to. She nodded as well; Dr. Jones was, in a way, family. If he could help her, could reset her jaw, then she would endure whatever discomfort was necessary to be able to eat properly and speak again.
It wasn't as if she hadn't already endured far worse for the last year.
"How far away is Pemberley?" Maria asked then.
"About ninety minutes' ride on horseback, though I came alone so I've only the one horse," said Darcy.
"That's all right, I am sure, right Lizzy?" said Maria. Elizabeth answered with a nod. "We can both of us walk; it may just take longer to get there."
Darcy nodded. "Then I shall walk with you, though I should warn it will be dark before we arrive. Have you… Have you any trouble with the dark after what you've experienced?"
Again the two girls looked to one another. "We were locked in a dark cellar most often, when we weren't being used, but no. The dark does not frighten us," Maria replied slowly.
Elizabeth nodded her agreement. There were worse things things in the world than darkness.
-…-
Though he endeavored greatly not to show it, Darcy was enraged. That these two young women had been kept locked away in a cellar and forced to endure the attentions of who knew how many men in the last year…
For the first time in his life, he found himself wanting to break the commandment of 'thou shalt not kill'. No one who treated a woman as Elizabeth and Maria had been deserved to be called a man, let alone had the right to live and breathe.
Soon after telling them of his desire to take them back to Pemberley to be cared for, the three were on their way. As they exited the cabin, Maria sheepishly apologized for Elizabeth's having broken the window, to which she had nodded. Darcy offered them both a smile as he was taking the reins of his horse in hand and said, "Think nothing of it—you were in need. I am only glad that your shelter here has led to your recovery."
"As are we, sir," said Maria with a glance at Elizabeth. She nodded again.
They were afterward silent as they started down the path away from the cabin, and it pained Darcy that though they had appeared to trust him, they did not seem to want to be too near him; the girls walked arm-in-arm with each other, but were more than an arm's length away from him. He could hardly blame them for their caution—that even someone they knew, who had only ever been kind to them, could not be fully trusted was to be expected.
He then considered how he and Elizabeth had parted company. It was the morning after his disastrous proposal—oh, what a fool he had made of himself! How he could have ever thought that reciting all the reasons he had for not marrying her was the way to win her hand? But then, he'd been so arrogant about his own superiority that he'd not once considered she would refuse him, never mind the insult to her and her family. He hadn't even known she did not like him—that she loathed him!—because of his interference with her sister and Bingley, and because Wickham had poisoned her against him.
Darcy had turned the meeting over and over in his mind for hours, getting very little peace or sleep. At eight o'clock the next morning he'd begun a letter, compelled to defend himself against her accusations. He delivered it to her personally, knowing that he could not trust another to not speak of the impropriety of his writing to her in the first place. Her countenance had been somewhat astonished, but she had taken it. He wondered if she had read it, if she believed his account of Wickham. If she had forgiven him for not seeing that her sister was not indifferent to Bingley, only behaving modestly and guarding her heart against disappointment. He wondered when he would have opportunity to tell her that he had confessed his reasons to both and begged their forgiveness.
After a time, Maria asked him why he had gotten involved in the search for them—they were only acquaintances, after all, not intimate friends. Darcy replied that there was no way he could not have done; his conscience would not allow him to be idle when they were both known to him. He looked over to find Elizabeth gazing at him, her eyes seeming to wonder. Did she wonder if he still loved her? That was something else he hoped to discuss with her, when she was ready to hear him. His wishes and sentiments had not changed in the least, and in fact, his heart had nearly burst with joy at seeing her alive again.
That she was safe now, and would recover, was all that mattered to him. He thanked God that she was back again, and prayed that Elizabeth would give him a chance—a chance to show her that he had taken her words to heart, that they had led him to acknowledge all the faults in his character that she had so angrily pointed out to him, and that he had taken pains to correct them. He hoped that one day, he might tell her he loved her still, and that she would give him a chance to show her how much.
But he must put that all aside for now, Darcy knew. First and foremost, Elizabeth and Maria must be seen by a doctor. They must be allowed to bathe, eat their fill, and rest in comfort. They must be allowed to recover, not only their health but their sense of safety. Their sense of worth. They must be allowed to see their families—he would have an express sent to Mr. Gardiner, as well as Sir William and Mr. Bennet. No doubt he would be receiving a large party at Pemberley soon; he would have to prepare for that.
Darcy only hoped that neither of the ladies would be overwhelmed by all the attention they were soon to receive.
At the end of an hour's walking, Maria begged that they stop to rest. Darcy acquiesced immediately and looked for a boulder or fallen tree she might sit upon. When he found one, he watched as Elizabeth helped her to sit, offered her the flask of water, and rubbed her back. He recalled that Maria's elder sister Charlotte had been Elizabeth's intimate friend, at least until her marriage to Lady Catherine's parson, but imagined that their being held captive and surviving the horror of the last year together had brought the two before him closer than Mrs. Collins had ever been with either.
After about five minutes had passed, Maria was ready to move on. They continued on as before, walking in contemplative silence, and stopped again at the end of another hour so the girls could rest. The light had already faded with the sundown, and it was nearly too dark to see one another's faces, but though they were not as far as he would have been alone, Darcy knew they were less than an hour from reaching the edge of the park.
"We will be at Pemberley very soon—should not even be an hour's walk from here," said Darcy, "though it will be full dark by the time we arrive."
Elizabeth looked to Maria. Though the latter's condition was the reason they had stopped to rest both times, Darcy knew Elizabeth had to be tired also.
"I…I think I can manage without stopping again," Maria said. "It will help to know that true safety is so close—we will be safe there, won't we Mr. Darcy?"
"I assure you, Miss Lucas, you will be perfectly safe. I have armed guards about the estate for the protection of my sister and the maids," Darcy assured her.
"It's so dark already," Maria went on. "How will we even see to get there? I did not think to ask before."
Darcy turned toward his horse and reached into the saddlebag; from it, he withdrew a pre-made torch and the matches with which to light it. In seconds he had it lit and held it out to them. Elizabeth took it with a nod, and again they were on their way, walking the faint path that he knew by heart.
The welcome sight of Pemberley's edifice was seen in the distance as soon as they cleared the edge of the wood. The ladies paused for a moment to take in the sight of the house made visible by torches and braziers lit all around, and candlelight seen through several windows. Darcy longed to know Elizabeth's thoughts of the home of which she might have been mistress, but could not ask her.
Not yet.