Chapter 21

Elizabeth did not sleep although hours seemed to pass. The narrow cot she lay on smelled terrible, and she still felt unwell from the effects of the chloroform which she was certain Wickham had administered. She did not know what time or day it was, but she was sure her husband must be frantic with worry. She thought about Wickham's boast that he might kill her to get revenge on Darcy, and felt that she must do her best to escape. The man was clearly mad.

She began looking about the room for any kind of tool that would help her free herself. All she could see in the room was a candle, a chair, the cot, and a table, on which rested a pitcher. Perhaps if she could break the pitcher, she could get a shard that was sharp enough to saw through her bindings.

She attempted to get up from the bed, but with her legs tied she fell at the first try. She still felt weak from the effects of the drug. When she got to her feet again, she staggered but her hands were tied so she was unable to hold herself up. She fell against the table and the pitcher wobbled and then crashed onto the floor. She froze for a moment, hoping that Wickham had not heard and would not come to investigate. After a minute passed with no response from the other room, she inched forward and searched with her eyes amid the shards. She found one that looked sharp enough and scooted backwards to pick it up with her hands, which were tied behind her. Then she began to work on the knot around her wrists.

It was not easy going. The rope was thick and the pottery shard was not as sharp as she hoped. She did manage to cut her fingers several times, but after about two hours she managed to saw through the last of the knot. With a sigh of relief, she brought her hands up to her front, massaging her wrists, which had rope burns on them from the tightness of the knots.

Next she set to work loosening the knots on her ankles. These were easier to do because her hands were free. She loosened them as well as she could with her fingers, breaking her nails in the process. She was free of them quickly, and then had to decide what to do. Was Mr. Wickham in the other room? How was she to get out of the shack? There was nothing in here that she could use as a weapon.

That was when she thought of it. She could use the candlestick! Of course!

She crept up to the wooden door to listen, but could detect no sign of Wickham on the other side. She decided to risk it and opened the door a crack, hoping it would not creak.

It did creak. Wickham, who had been sitting at a table drinking, turned at the sound and Elizabeth, without even a second for thought, hit Wickham across the face with the candlestick as hard as she could. He fell back with curses as blood exploded from his nose, but it appeared the blow had only made him angry. She hit him again across the head, and again, until he finally fell on the floor, seemingly unconscious. She hoped she had not killed him, but had no time to check. She had to escape now.

She opened the front door and peered around her. She was on a filthy, grime-ridden street in the early dawn. She had no idea where she was in London, and decided she must find someone to aid her. She made her way carefully down the street, looking for anyone who might appear as if they could help. She passed a pub that looked as if it was filled with drunken ruffians, and hurried by, hoping no one saw her. She just needed to get a note to Darcy House, then Darcy would come get her. He probably had people out looking already.

Unfortunately, men began to filter out of the pub, and she saw some staggering in her direction. What was she going to do? They would rob, ravish, or kill her!

She ran forward as best she could, and saw a woman of about fifty at the window of a two-story house. She ran up the porch. "Oh, please, help me! I need a safe place to stay. My husband will certainly reward you if you help me get word to him!"

The woman, who was dressed in a dirty gown, opened the door. "Now, now, who is this? One of the quality in Fleet Ditch? What are you doing here, dove?"

"I was kidnapped but have fled my captor. Please help me! My husband will reward you."

The woman looked down the street both ways, noticed the men approaching, and then opened the door wider. "Very well. Come in then, dove. This is no place for you. And with child too!" She tsked.

Elizabeth followed her inside to find a building that was cleaner than the one Mr. Wickham had kept her in, but not by much. Elizabeth saw several other women in various states of undress as the woman led her up the stairs and down a hall. "My name is Miggs," she said, "Who are you, lovey?"

"Mrs. Darcy," Elizabeth replied. "Do you have someone who can take a message to my husband? He lives in Darcy House in Mayfair."

Miggs nodded. "I can send someone, as long as there is something in it for me."

"My husband will certainly reward you handsomely," she replied. "I am afraid I have no money with me."

As Elizabeth followed Miggs down the hall, it slowly occurred to her where she was. She was in a house full of prostitutes!

"You can stay in Elsa's room. She has gone out for the day," said Miggs.

Elizabeth followed her, hoping she could trust this woman and was not putting herself into a worse situation than the one she had just escaped.

"Do you have pen and paper? I can write a note."

"Paper and pen?" Miggs looked surprised. "Course we don't. None of us can read or write, love."

"Very well. Take the message by mouth, then. Go to Darcy House in Mayfair and ask to speak to Mr. Darcy. Tell him where I am. Please!"

"All right, just calm down, lovey. I will send someone. You stay hidden in here in case that rogue comes looking for you."

She shut the door, and Elizabeth sat down on a chair, not daring to approach the dirty bed. She hoped she was not in more danger now than before.

The Runners tried to shake Mr. Wickham awake. When that did not work, they threw water in his face, and he sputtered to life. They had Darcy stay outside. They thought it best that Wickham did not know he was there.

"Where is Mrs. Darcy?" they demanded.

"She broke my nose, the bitch!" he complained, putting his hand up to his bleeding face. "Knocked me out! I don't know where she is, but I hope she gets robbed and murdered in the street!"

Darcy had heard what he said, and although he was proud of Elizabeth and relieved that Wickham had not hurt her, he was terrified for her. She was wandering around Fleet Ditch without any help. He began to pray as he had never prayed before.

"I am going out to look for her," he said.

"Wait for us, sir," said Symons. "We are going too. We shall fan out on the adjoining streets."

Darcy followed their lead, and he grew more horrified the longer he looked. The disease, filth, and misery that haunted this place was unrelenting. He wondered that he had never realized such a place existed in London. He asked every person he passed if they had seen someone of Elizabeth's description, but no one had. He was sure he would have been robbed and possibly killed if the Runners had not been with him. And Elizabeth was alone in this place? He felt cold and sick at the thought, and increased his pace.

Finally, he came up to a two-story house and knocked as he had on all the previous doors. A woman of about fifty in a grubby dress answered. "Yes? What do you want?" She looked him up and down, clearly noting his expensive clothing and aristocratic bearing.

"I am looking for a woman, about twenty. She has dark, curly hair and is with child. Please, have you seen her?"

The woman looked at him shrewdly. "Aye, maybe I have. What be your name?"

"I am Fitzwilliam Darcy."

She looked thoughtful. "Wait here."

She went back inside and closed the door in his face. Darcy had some hope. Had she seen Elizabeth?

A few minutes later, however, he came face to face with Elizabeth herself. The woman had brought her down the stairs, and she was in Darcy's arms a moment later.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam! I knew that you would come!" she cried.

"Ah, my love," he said, covering her dirty face with kisses, not caring that there were people witnessing their reunion.

"This is Miggs," said Elizabeth, once he had pulled back to check her condition. "She hid me. She sent a note to Darcy House, but I suppose you did not get it?"

"No, I did not. It must have arrived after we left. But we can discuss everything once we have you safely back home."

Miggs cleared her throat loudly.

"Miggs here deserves a reward for helping me, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth said. "Perhaps you could give her something?"

Darcy reached into his pocket and drew out a five-pound note. "Here you are, Miggs. Thank you for safeguarding my greatest treasure."

Miggs' face brightened. "Five pounds! Why that is more than I make in a year! Thank you kindly, sir." She gave a curtsey and then turned to go back into the house.

The word had spread among the Runners that Mrs. Darcy had been found. Darcy bundled her into a hackney coach, leaving the disposition of Wickham to the Runners. Symons had said that the villain would likely be hanged. Darcy could not regret it.

As soon as they were trundling their way home, Darcy checked her all over, exclaiming over the rope burns on her wrists and ankles, and the cuts on her fingers.

"Are you hurt in any other way, my love? Did he harm you?" he asked, curling his arm around her so she could rest on his chest.

"No, he did not, truly, Fitzwilliam. I think he put chloroform over my nose and mouth in the park and that is how he got me away." She sat up suddenly. "Is Thomas all right? He was hit over the head."

"Thomas is fine," Darcy soothed. "But I will have the physician examine you immediately as soon as we return home. Chloroform cannot be good for the baby. Do you feel ill?"

"The effects of the chloroform have mostly worn off. I just feel tired."

"Then you shall sleep all day," he declared.

"Yes, sir," she said, feeling amused for the first time in what seemed like forever. She closed her eyes and dozed against his chest.

Once they reached the front doors of Darcy House, Darcy shook her awake. "We are here, darling. I did not tell Melody about your kidnapping. She would have been so worried. We must simply act as if you need a nap."

"I agree, Fitzwilliam. I am glad you were able to keep the circumstances from her."

"Do you need anything to eat before you sleep?"

"Yes, I am hungry, but I need a bath first. I am filthy."

Darcy privately agreed. She smelled.

He ordered the bath and then called for the physician. After she had washed, Elizabeth had something to eat and the doctor checked her over. The doctor declared that she and the baby were both well, but that she should be careful for the next few days just in case.

"Get as much rest as you need, Mrs. Darcy," he said. "And no more walks in the park, at least not for a week or so."

"You are never going for a walk again!" Darcy declared.

Elizabeth just rolled her eyes.

"You think I am not serious?" he said.

"Fitzwilliam," she said in a conciliatory tone, "Mr. Wickham has been apprehended. He was the true danger, not the walks."

"But he was able to apprehend you on your walk," continued Darcy stubbornly.

"Then you shall simply have to accompany me," she said, giving him a light kiss as she saw the doctor had departed.

Darcy grumbled but eventually agreed.

"I do not know what I would do if I lost you," he said, holding her close.

"You did not lose me," she soothed. "And Mr. Wickham will soon no longer be a problem."

"No. I heard from the Runners. They think he will most likely be hanged." He sighed. "Part of me regrets it. He had a part in the happiness of my past."

"I truly think he is unhinged, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth said seriously. "He was not speaking logically or coherently when he went on and on about all the wrongs you had committed against him. I do not think there is any saving him, even if he is not hanged."

"Perhaps you are right," Darcy said.

"Come to bed," Elizabeth said, and then when he appeared about to argue, added, "Just to sleep. I need some rest, and so do you."

"Very well." He got into the bed beside her and took her in his arms. "I love you, Elizabeth."

"I love you too, Fitzwilliam."

Soon both of them were asleep.