Still in a Fashionably Situated Townhome
London, England
Elizabeth Bennet had to clench her jaw slightly to stop herself from squirming. She was normally not the type of woman to ever, under any sort of scrutiny, find herself wanting to fidget but she defied anyone to stay perfectly still while a very tall, very handsome, but very angry Duke loomed over them.
The gentleman had yet to take his intense gaze from her and it unnerved her more than she had ever known.
Her own eyes began skipping over objects and book spines unseeing, in a frantic attempt to redirect the glowering Duke's attention.
Thankfully, but only after she began sweating profusely, he seemed to remember himself and sat, imperiously, across from her.
"Miss Elizabeth, have you any experience with a… situation such as this?"
After five years of information gathering she could not stop the pang of annoyance at being questioned but she quashed it quickly. She understood his perspective, she wasn't entirely certain she would be comforted by a small (but, well read!) woman coming to her aid.
Elizabeth maintained a cool mien, folding her hands in her lap and sitting ever so straighter in her seat. "No, Your Grace, this is absolutely outside of my normal purview." She held up her hand to stop a retort which didn't actually seem to be forthcoming. "Before you protest, I will tell you that I understand your situation well and I am privy to information which will aid in our mission."
He narrowed his eyes at her as though he did not like what she had just said.
"My cousin is a Major General recently filling a post with the War Office. What, pray tell, do you know that he wouldn't?" His voice was calm and dry and laced with just enough incredulity that Elizabeth flushed with indignation.
"I am sure I could not tell you what your Cousin does not know, Your Grace." she smiled sweetly. "However, my Uncle is a very successful tradesman and, as you may know, those in trade are some of the ministries most valued intelligence gatherers. He is one of those individuals." she nodded as though the argument were settled.
"Then, perhaps your uncle could help me?" He gave a dismissive wave of the hand which infuriated her further. "I would much rather work with the source of this information than receive it second hand. Do you stay with this Uncle? Perhaps I could call on you there to meet him."
She gritted her teeth to keep her brittle smile in place. "He left just this morning for Belgium, Your Grace. The French are moving their forces and I am afraid most of us are scattering."
"But you are not Miss Elizabeth."
"No." She was going to need to start breathing deeply to keep her retorts thoughtful. "As I said, this is not within my normal purview but I am your best choice at the moment."
"I find that hard to believe. There must be someone more… appropriate."
If Elizabeth didn't desperately need His Grace to accept her aid she would have curtsied to him with all the grace and aplomb she could muster and walked from the room.
"Be that as it may, Wellesley assigned me to you, I am sure he had your best interest in mind." She didn't actually believe those words but she needed this argument to be over.
"Again, Miss Elizabeth, I find that hard to believe."
Insufferable man.
"Tell me what you would not find hard to believe and I will work with that, Your Grace." She snapped back before she could stop herself.
His response, the last thing she would have ever expected, was to smile at her. His full lips spread wide showing off impossibly white teeth and transforming his already handsome features into something very nearly ethereal.
She was fairly certain her slack jawed surprise was not equally as enchanting.
She was saved from struggling to answer when a knock sounded at the door. Two men entered after pushing a bedraggled tea try in ahead of them.
Elizabeth immediately recognized the danger.
Neither man was wearing the house uniform and the tea tray was both in disarray and only seemed to be half laid. She looked nervously to the Duke who hadn't spared the men a second glance.
Elizabeth stood and spun around to stand in front of the Duke. One of the men grinned menacingly at her show of protection.
"Miss Elizabeth! What is-" he was stopped from continuing by the grinning man speaking.
"You won't get away from us this time, puteresse." His leering smile made her blood boil even as she had to struggle to understand his thick French accent. "Gustav, kill the man" he spoke to his companion and nodded towards Elizabeth but was clearly meant for the Duke, now standing behind her. "He wants the girl alive" he turned fully to Gustav. " Don't forget this time." He admonished, oddly patiently, somewhat akin to teaching a child to keep from practicing their letters on important documents.
Gustav was a rather unkempt man, even standing next to his matted partner, his appearance matching perfectly to the stench winding its way to Elizabeth's nose as he moved closer. The lack of proper cleaning of his body was inversely proportional to the immaculately clean, devastatingly sharp knives he pulled from his waist belt.
Elizabeth could feel His Grace place a hand on her shoulder and she knew what he was going to do. Before he could pull her behind him, she spun out of his hands, arms wide and flailing ungainly. She hit Gustav in the upper arm with her limbs causing him to drop his knives.
She bent and picked one up before grabbing the Duke by the hand and pulling him the opposite direction, towards the book shelves lining the walls. The men had crowded the only exit they could see so Elizabeth pulled the Duke further into the shelving with her.
Where Gustav was slow to react to the impromptu attack, his partner was on the ready and advanced quickly, his dazed but still foul smelling partner joined him soon enough.
There was unfortunately a severe lack of bookshelves in which they could hide until someone came to their aid and they quickly found themselves cornered against a wall, in between two tall shelves, laden with books. The narrow space in between the shelves kept them safe on their sides but, out-weaponed, it wouldn't hold.
Elizabeth immediately began emptying the bookshelves and throwing their contents at the encroaching attackers. The Duke began emptying the higher shelves, his arms strong and his throws brutal when they landed.
Elizabeth looked up at him when her shelf was nearly empty, the intense look on his face almost an understatement considering their precarious predicament. Just past His Grace, gleaming like a beacon of hope on the wall was a large wooden placard, displaying not only an unrecognizable coat of arms but two swords, interlocked with the carved crest.
"Above you!" Elizabeth shouted to the Duke and began to throw books with both her hands, grabbing and throwing as fast as she could. Her throws were far less effective than his, however and the men pressed in on them quickly.
Luckily, His Grace was just as quick. He pulled the crest from the wall and tried to pull out a sword, only to have it stick. He tried the other but they were both stuck fast. He began shaking the large carving to try and dislodge the swords but was ineffective.
"Blast!" He yelled in frustration as the only accessible weapons proved themselves inaccessible.
The men had both stopped momentarily to gape at the Duke struggling with a wooden crest before continuing their path, now only slightly impeded by Elizabeth's literary onslaught.
His Grace pushed Elizabeth behind him, forcing her against the wall when she had run out of books within her reach. He stood before her squaring off with the two armed men, holding the carved wooden crest like a shield.
The small of Elizabeth's back ached and it took her but a moment to register a handle sticking directly into the base of her spine.
It was a good pain. The best, even. And, at this point, their very last hope for survival.
She surged forward, pushing the Duke out of her way and yelling "Throw it!" to His Grace. She pulled her pilfered knife from her pocket and threw it with all her might at one of the attackers, smacking him in the face with the blunt end and possibly leaving a small bruise.
All three men stopped to stare at her, none comprehending what she was doing.
"Miss Elizabeth, what are you doing?" The Duke growled at her.
"Trust me" She kept her eyes on the two bedraggled men but pleaded out of the corner of her mouth to the Duke. "Throw it!" she nodded her head in an exaggerated fashion towards the men in front of them. He did so without hesitation this time, knocking both men into each other with a violent throw. She pulled him backwards, grabbing the concealed handle and opening, thankfully without so much as a squeak, the door built directly into the wooden paneling in between the large shelves.
If she lived, she would need to thank the housekeeper.
The two of them slammed the door shut behind them and placed their backs against it to stop Gustav and his friend from following. They were both out of breath, chests heaving and wide eyed while the men pounded on the door and cursed them viciously.
In between the walls, as they were, they were able to hear a door opening to the room next to the library followed by a high pitched screech and a thud.
Terror exploded in Elizabeth's chest.
Jane.
"My sister!" Elizabeth whispered to the Duke, pleading for something she could not name but anything that would save her sister.
He looked down to her, eyebrows knit in question, both of them vibrating slightly from the attempts to push through their door.
The Duke opened his mouth to respond but the handle to the corresponding door in the room next to them began to jiggle and they simultaneously turned back. Fear and dread coursed through Elizabeth like it had infected her blood.
She wound her small hand into the Duke's much larger one and squeezed, the solidity of the connection anchoring her in that moment.
The door opened a sliver and a masculine voice yelled into the gap. "You are heavily outnumbered, come out now and you may yet live."
The pounding on their door stopped abruptly and scuffling sounds could be heard from the library.
Elizabeth squeezed the Duke's hand so hard she was sure she saw him wince. He looked down to her, eyes intense, even in the dark.
"Trust me." he mimicked her earlier words in a soft whisper before pulling her forward. "Richard." He bellowed to the partially opened door. "If you run me through I will haunt you for the rest of your days."
The answering chuckle was deep and masculine. "I wouldn't dream of it, Cousin."
Elizabeth looked up to His Grace in question before the door fully opened, revealing a red coated, broad shouldered man with wild, sandy colored hair, a wide smile and a bleeding gash above his right eyebrow.
"Bloody Hell, Darcy, you gave me a fright." the man noticed Elizabeth at this point and looked immediately abashed. "I apologize, ladies." he bowed gallantly to Elizabeth then turned to bow again to the room.
Jane!
Elizabeth rushed past the man, hand still clenched tightly to the Duke and yanking him with her into the room. She reluctantly relinquished her hold on his appendage when her sister ran to her and the women embraced in a crushing hug.
The Duke was the first to sober from the heady feeling of relief.
"We were attacked, we will need- wait, Richard, you're bleeding, did they come in here?" the Duke looked around the room frantically for a moment before Richard stopped him.
"No, we are safe from them in here, Cousin, I am perfectly fine."
The Duke looked at him dubiously and a small smirk graced Richards face.
"We were attacked" The Duke continued with the more pressing matter. "Our attackers could be coming through at any moment. We need to move." He looked pointedly at his cousin then held his hand out to Elizabeth and she instinctively took it. The foursome ran down the hallway, going the opposite direction as the library, looking for either an exit or help, whichever came first.
What came first was Mr. Shipley, charging down the hall as fast as he could holding a giant Brown Bess in both his hands.
"What happened?" He looked to each one of them individually, his wrinkled face hard as stone.
"We were attacked, Mr. Shipley. In the library... with knives. We must hurry before they get away." Elizabeth turned to charge down the hallway, dragging His Grace with her. He quickly caught up with her, again, his long legs no match for her much shorter ones.
"Miss Elizabeth, I insist you stay here." His voice was demanding and hard and absolutely brooking no opposition. Fortunately for Elizabeth she had grown up with a mother who would wax similarly when speaking of lace.
"No, Your Grace." He pulled her to a stop and they glared at one another, each with a stubborn set to their face. Elizabeth watched as his nostrils flared and his face darkened in, what she assumed to be, unbridled anger.
Their standoff was broken when Mr. Shipley kicked open the library door with his foot and roared as he entered the room, prepared to shoot whatever happened to move first.
The room was unfortunately empty. Large windows against the far wall open, and the curtains fluttering. Mr. Shipley examined the periphery of the room thoroughly before checking the balcony outside the windows.
The aged butler came back to the foursome, looking much older than just a moment prior and sagging slightly.
"They have escaped." the dejection in his voice made Elizabeth want to comfort him. "Are all of you well?" He asked the group, eyeing the small gash on the Major General's forehead.
"I believe we are all uninjured, Mr. Shipley." Elizabeth went for a soothing tone. "But, I believe we could all do with some tea -"
"Miss Elizabeth!" she was cut off when the butler very nearly yelled at her. "You are injured." he chided.
Elizabeth looked down to the hand not firmly clasped with the Duke to see blood dripping down her arm. She must have gotten sliced when she briefly disarmed Gustav but she had yet to feel any pain. She shrugged and tried to self consciously drop His Grace's hand but he held hers fast.
"I will live, Mr. Shipley." Her voice pulled the man back from glaring menacingly at the Duke. She looked between the two in question before continuing. "Perhaps you could bring some hot water with the tea and I will clean this cut."
"Of course, I won't be but a moment." He rushed, his bow borderline curt before he charged off to the kitchens. He turned before he had gone very far to ask them to await him in the blue room, on yet the other side of the library.
Elizabeth made to move towards the room in question but she was stopped by the Duke's still tight hold on her hand. She looked up into his scowl before trying again to walk away, only to be stopped in a similar fashion. Her world tilted suddenly as she was lifted in the air and cradled gently in the Duke's arms.
"Your Grace!" She screeched. "Put me down!"
"No." His voice was unyielding as he looked down his nose at her. "You are bleeding, Miss Elizabeth."
"My arm! My arm is bleeding, not my leg. I am perfectly capable of walking."
"Blood loss can make you unsteady, we do not need you falling." He looked to his cousin, now striding next to them, and, shockingly, cradling Jane similarly in his arms. "Tell her."
The red coated man looked at her with serious intensity. "It's true, you shouldn't walk when you are bleeding."
"Jane, are you injured?" She asked her sister, who seemed far more comfortable than she should nestled in a stranger's arms.
"No, Lizzie, I am not." She said with, quite frankly, an annoying smile and her now favorite lift of the chin. "I have bandages in my reticule, I will tend your wound."
"You came very prepared, Miss." The man carrying her looked at her like she was some sort of angel fallen from the sky to tend wounds.
Jane smiled, still maddeningly. "I will need to tend yours as well, Sir." Her voice was sweet and pure and only irked Elizabeth further. "I apologize again for the book."
"No matter." the man responded quickly.
"Yes, Richard, how did you receive that gash?" The humor in His Grace's voice was... unexpected.
Jane went visibly stiff before tilting her chin slightly higher. "I hit him." The Major General looked at her with dazed admiration and a wide smile. "With a book... I threw a book at him when he entered... I was frightened." She looked to His Grace as though fully prepared to visit a similar violence upon him should he take issue with her actions.
"A family trait, I see." He quirked an eyebrow at Elizabeth and she stifled the urge to roll her eyes.
The whole world had just gone mad.