10

Elizabeth ran her fingers over the cover of Gulliver’s Travels, smiling at the memory of reading into the wee hours with Mr. Darcy. Had that truly happened? It scarcely felt real - just a few days ago, she would never have believed such a thing possible, and so much had occurred throughout the day that the happy memory had been pushed to the back of her mind.

Her mortification, however, had lingered. She was not ashamed of the enjoyable experience, for it was really quite innocent, and thus she refused to regret it. She did not doubt that Mr. Darcy had found it pleasant as well, for she was certain she had not imagined the look in his eyes as they had woken up so comfortably intertwined.

She was attuned to his every look and movement for the rest of the day, flustered by her heightened awareness of his gaze and his expressions, the tone of his voice when he spoke to her, his thrilling proximity as they worked on bringing their plans to life in her house, and all the opportunities for lingering touches this afforded them.

Despite being perpetually flustered in his presence, Elizabeth had enjoyed this day with Mr. Darcy as much as the two that had preceded it. The fear she had felt when first learning of the Red Bandits’ plan was nothing to the enormity of her own sentiments; she was in love with Mr. Darcy, which was perhaps even more absurd than the series of amateur ambushes and snares that she and her companions had spent the day assembling throughout the house.

Elizabeth looked up at the shadow she cast in the flickering candlelight and giggled at the sheer madness of it all; perhaps the dramatic events of the last few days had overtaken her good sense. Or perhaps she had simply had one shock too many. Of course, it ought not to have been a surprise that Mr. Darcy was a decent man - the finest gentleman she knew, in fact. And if she had not been so blindly determined to despise him when he was at Netherfield, perhaps she might have perceived his regard for her; even Charlotte had suspected it, had hinted of it to Elizabeth.

Another shadow joined her own, and Elizabeth turned to find Mr. Darcy lingering in the doorway. She smiled before she could even consider what to say to him, and for a moment she only took in the sight of him, which had become so dear to her. Here was her friend, her admirer, her gallant protector, a man whose myriad merits she had uncovered with increasing relish, whose company felt so natural and yet so thrilling. Elizabeth let out another breathy laugh as took a step toward her.

“It is nearly time,”

he said softly. “Mrs. Hill has made us a little buffet and I should like to review the plan with everybody once more.”

Elizabeth nodded. “I shall come directly.”

Elizabeth stalked toward the doorway, but Mr. Darcy did not move. Instead, he reached for one of her hands as soon as she was near enough. “A moment, please, Miss Bennet,”

he said. “I could sense your anxiety today, which is perfectly natural under the circumstances. But if any of your worries pertain to our… reading together last evening….”

“It was very pleasant, and perfectly innocent, despite how it may have appeared,”

Elizabeth replied, searching his countenance for the sentiments she harbored in her own heart. But his face was a mask, just as it had been the night they met, before she had known him to be the man he had been here at Longbourn. Disappointment twisted through her chest.

“Of course, as all our time together here has been. Despite having a chaperone in the house, my presence here has been… unconventional,”

Mr. Darcy said, his voice cold despite the warmth of his fingers wrapping around her own. “Borne of necessity, but still stretching the bounds of propriety - I fear that certain circumstances have made you uncomfortable. I wish you to know that I am a gentleman of honor, and should there be any damage to your reputation - gossip in the neighborhood will surely be inevitable after tonight’s events….”

Elizabeth sucked in a breath and then sharply exhaled, holding up her free hand to stop him. “Please, I beg you would not say another word,”

she said hastily. Mr. Darcy’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared, but though he was visibly indignant at being silenced, he obliged her.

Elizabeth smiled, gratitude and sadness tugging at her as she wrested for control of her comportment. “I am conscious of the compliment you mean to pay, sir, and I am not insensible to your honor and goodness. Indeed, after such a demonstration of your admirable qualities as I have had these last three days, I wish you greater happiness than the mere fulfillment of an obligation, and have no desire to be such a burden myself, particularly after the peril I have already brought upon you and your sister.”

She turned her face away to hide the tears pricking at her eyes, and would have fled the room, but Mr. Darcy tightened his grasp on her hand and tugged her toward him. “You are neither a burden nor an obligation, but rather a privilege and a delight, Elizabeth.”

He cupped her face with his hand, tilting her head upward. She shuddered at the intensity of his gaze and closed her eyes, a tear sliding down her cheek as his words of reassurance washed over her. His thumb grazed her cheek, brushing away the tear, and then his mouth softly met hers.

Elizabeth gasped, and the parting of her lips allowed him to deepen the kiss, though his arms encircled her gently, as if he was uncertain whether she welcomed his tentative ministrations. She might have returned a greater fervor, but was content with the tender delicacy of his kiss; it was a question answered for both of them, and the unease that had nearly curdled into acrimony now ebbed away entirely. She felt entirely peaceful as she leaned into him, and when at last he broke the kiss, she let out a little hum of contentment. “I suppose that clarifies your sentiments.”

“And my intentions, I hope,”

he said with a trace of mirth as he brought her hand to his lips, and kissed the tops of her fingers.

Elizabeth only had time to allow a wide smile to overtake her countenance before Mrs. Hill bustled into the room. “There you are, my dear! Well, I must lock the door - and you need to eat something, else you’ll be swooning at what’s to come - and the same goes for you, Mr. Darcy, I daresay.”

The housekeeper gave them a knowing look, and an indulgent shake of her head before shooing them out of Mr. Bennet’s bookroom.

A large and sturdy bookshelf had been moved in front of the window to prevent the bandits from entering from outside the house, and Mr. Hill now locked the heavy wooden door, protecting the many rare and valuable volumes of Mr. Benner’s collection within. “Your father’s sanctuary has seen enough excitement, eh?”

Mrs. Hill tutted, seeming to forget what she had just walked in on, and led Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy into the dining room, where the rest of their compatriots were waiting.

Longbourn looked eerie and ominous in the distortion of the dim candlelight, with Holland cloth thrown over all the furniture and rugs rolled up, both necessary to mitigate the damage that would soon be done. The preparations they had put in place rendered her home unrecognizable even to Elizabeth; old furniture from the attic barricaded the front door, baroque chandeliers casting sinister shadows as they moved carefully to the dining room.

The entire situation had become so strange that it did not feel odd at all that Mrs. Hill and her children and a harried looking Wilson the valet joined the meal. Necessity required it. The clock struck seven as they all took their seats and began to serve themselves from the assortment of breads, cheeses, fruits, and cold meats - the best Mrs. Hill and Alice could manage in the midst of their other preparations.

A heavy silence and sense of purpose fell over the room. Elizabeth glanced toward the window, seeing nothing beyond it but the low, snowy hills of the countryside. Denny would detain the Red Bandits for as long as he could manage without exposing his own duplicity, and when the villains set out for Longbourn, Denny would covertly dispatch a lad in the opposite direction, to light a brazier that had been placed half a mile beyond the encampment, visible from the back of Longbourn but not from the road the bandits would take in their approach. That would be Longbourn’s signal to prepare for battle.

Wilson followed Elizabeth’s gaze out the window and scowled. “Can we really trust this officer, Denny? It is a gamble.”

“My cousin trusts him, and I trust my cousin with my life,”

Mr. Darcy said gravely. “With all our lives.”

“Captain Denny seems remarkably clever and brave,”

Georgiana said brightly. Elizabeth smiled; it had not escaped her notice that Denny had worked his considerable charm on her smitten young friend. Mr. Darcy regarded his sister warily for the same reason.

Struggling to keep the laughter from her voice, Elizabeth said, “Captain Denny will give the bandits unloaded pistols; though the colonel will likely be too clever for such a trick, it will surely work on Harry and Marv, and hopefully a few of the others.”

“Wickham, too, is wily enough to have more than one weapon. Indeed, it would be safest to assume these men are all armed,”

Mr. Darcy said. “Disarm them if you can; incapacitate them as hastily as possible. I will keep a pistol on my person to protect my sister and Miss Elizabeth.”

“And Johnny will have the shotgun up in the attic,”

Mrs. Hill said, clapping her son on the back. “If aught goes awry, he’ll fire on ‘em all.”

“And I cannot persuade you to hide safely in the attic?”

Darcy looked beseechingly at his sister.

Georgiana crossed her arms in front of her chest and hardened her countenance in a pose of defiance. “I will fight with Lizzy.”

She turned to take Elizabeth’s hand, her expression softening as she added, “You are like a sister to me already.”

Elizabeth flushed at her new friend’s indiscreet remark, refusing to look over and see if Mr. Darcy had heard his sister. Instead, she focused on the plate in front of her, and for a moment they all lapsed into silence as they ate their dinner. When she had finally recovered her equanimity, Elizabeth said, “They know that we are here, and can surmise that we are prepared to put up a fight. Captain Denny will direct them to the windows first, as entering through the doors will seem too obvious a trap.”

Nervous laughter rippled across the table. Another long silence prevailed as they resumed their meal. Elizabeth mentally reviewed her role in the plan, and presumed her companions were doing the same. She grew so lost in concentration that she nearly tumbled out of her chair when Georgiana cried out, “Look! The signal! They are coming.”

Her words hung in the air with heavy foreboding, and a moment later everyone was up and out of their seats in a great clamor to take up their post.