Chapter Twenty-Two

Darcy

D arcy had ridden into the woods and stayed on the main path, figuring she'd not venture into the forest itself. Even she could not be so reckless. However, he'd realised that he might be mistaken and was beginning to fear his search might be future when suddenly, he saw her—and his blood ran cold.

Elizabeth's figure stumbled through the shadows, her arms flailing as she struggled against the iron grip of a burly man who dragged her away with a savage determination. Rage boiled within Darcy's veins as he watched the scene unfold before him, his protective instincts flaring to life with a primal ferocity.

"Let her go!" he shouted and leaped off his mare. He grabbed a branch thick enough to serve as a weapon and charged towards the assailant with all the force of a thundering storm.

Elizabeth Bennet's face shone in the moonlight as she turned back towards him, gasping as she spotted him.

"Mr Darcy," she called but the man spun her and pushed her against a tree.

"Darcy? The cripple I heard about?" he said and chuckled. "Didn't think you ever ventured out of your ruin," the man said and turned at the sound of his approach. "What are you going to do?" The man's voice taunted him and Darcy knew immediately what he'd heard—that he was a hermit, weak of body and ill of temper. Well, he would put his ill temper to good use for once.

"Release her or I will show you what I'll do," Darcy roared, his voice echoing through the night like a battle cry as he swung his branch with a swift and merciless strike.

The man grunted in pain as the branch connected with his shoulder, but he refused to relinquish his hold on Elizabeth.

"That is all you can do? Swing a branch?" the man taunted once he'd recovered his breath.

Possessed by a furious rage Darcy raced forth, his muscles tensing with the effort as he swung his branch once more, this time connecting with the man's head who fell sideways, releasing his hands from her trembling form.

"You … you…. Monster…" the man said as he curled himself into a ball, hands in his head. Even in the dim light Darcy saw the shimmer of liquid—blood no doubt—form on the man's forehead. Was he alone?

"Elizabeth, get to the horse!" he barked, his voice ringing with urgency as he shoved the man aside with all his strength. He'd never used her Christian name before but somehow in this moment of danger, it came out quite without thinking.

But as Elizabeth scrambled to her feet and made a mad dash for the safety of the horse, he saw the disaster unfolding before him. The animal reared in panic at the sudden movement, its eyes wild with fear as it bolted into the night, leaving them stranded in the darkness.

"Perdition," Darcy cursed under his breath as he turned back to face their assailant.

"Mr Darcy, a knife!" she called suddenly, and he then he saw it. The man was on his knees but brandished a knife while struggling to get to his feet.

He would not let this man harm Elizabeth, not while he still drew breath.

With a grim resolve, he squared his shoulders and lunged forward once more, his foot serving as his weapon now as he kicked the man in the stomach so hard, the assailant lurched forward.

Alas, he was not finished. Staggering to his feet the man tumbled towards Darcy, knife out in front of him as he attempted to stab him. Darcy was fuelled by a righteous fury and scrambled for his branch again when out of nowhere, a rock flew past him and struck the man's hand, causing him to drop his knife. He turned and saw Elizabeth standing there, her chest heaving as she looked at him.

"My father never had a son, so he taught his daughters to throw," she explained. Then, she removed her belt from around her waist. "We ought to tie him to the tree while we can."

Amazed by her resolve, he sprang into motion and helped her do just that. He'd expected her to fall apart, to cry and shiver but no. She looked resolved not to let this man get away with his actions.

"I will send for the constable the moment we are back," Darcy said as he helped her drag the man to a tree and tie him. He wasn't certain the thin piece of fabric would hold very long, but it was all they had for the time being. It would have to do.

Once they were done, she staggered backward and he grabbed her by the elbow.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice edged with concern as he reached out to steady her.

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes wide with shock as she glanced back towards the direction of the campfire. "I think so," she replied, her voice trembling slightly. "But there may be others. We need to get back to Pemberley before it's too late."

With a shared understanding, they set off once more, their footsteps quickening as they raced through the woods towards safety. Each passing moment was fraught with tension, the threat of danger lurking just beyond the reach of their senses.

They did not converse for there was no time, they had to make haste so they could put space between themselves and the woods. The quicker they arrived back, the sooner could they send for the constable—and that was all that mattered for the time being.

Finally, they burst through the tree line and into the open expanse of Pemberley's grounds, the familiar sight of the grand estate looming before them like a beacon of hope in the darkness.