Chapter 44

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

B y late morning, replies were received from Elizabeth's relations. No man had been seen by anyone in the Magnussen or the Newfield households. Her aunt and uncle had been shocked to learn that a man of similar description been noticed several times by their observant youngest son in the busy park near their home, while neither his parents nor his nursemaid had been aware of it.

In the afternoon, the rider returned from Longbourn. Elizabeth recognised her father's handwriting on the note.

I have enquired of all my servants and tenants. A man similar to the one you describe was seen at the inn in Meryton, and Caleb Whitson swears he ran him off the farmyard on one occasion five or six weeks ago, believing him to be a vagrant. This is most distressing. I trust you will do everything in your power to keep my daughter safe. I beg you to keep me informed.

That evening, they heard from Gerhard, who reported that he had not been seen in Cambridge, but late on the second day, they received a note from Agueda, informing them that Youssef had spotted the man circling the outbuildings of Windward House a mere two days after Elizabeth had departed for London.

"That lends credence to your theory connecting this vile business to his discovery of Bancroft's promotion," Fitzwilliam said to the admiral.

Darcy ran a hand over his face and leant back in his chair. "By the Almighty, he almost had her before she even left her home." I might have lost her, this time forever, and never would have known of her fate. "How did he know where to go in the first place?"

"I do not think it would have been difficult for him to find her. He likely still had a few contacts in the Navy who knew of the house Bancroft was having built. Once he had a place to start, he merely had to listen for local gossip or make a few seemingly innocent enquiries," the admiral reflected.

"So he found his way to Gracechurch Street and was watching for an opportunity to take her away from the Gardiners' home," Fitzwilliam added.

"I walked Elizabeth home from the chapterhouse!" Darcy exclaimed. The other men stared at him.

"And?" Fitzwilliam asked, seemingly amused, one brow raised.

Darcy took a steadying breath. "We visited the chapterhouse with Sir Alexander. I walked Elizabeth home, and we walked by the park. The incident at the Bazaar occurred only a few days later. That was when we first became aware of Maltravers, though we did not know it at the time."

"And you had visited the Gardiners' home before that," his cousin reminded him. "He saw you, Darcy. He saw your interest in Elizabeth. You were unknowingly interfering with his plans, and it further inflamed him."

"Has Lord Matlock had any luck with Lord Akers?" asked the admiral.

"My father has spoken to Lord Akers, who insists that his brother is living at the family seat in Norfolk. He is rather stubborn but has been convinced to at least send a message to the estate to verify that he is there."

Another thing to sit and wait for, thought Darcy. He wanted to do something.

To Elizabeth, the days seemed interminable. Darcy had shown her the responses to the expresses. Maltravers had been pursuing her, hunting her really. He was the hunter, and she was the prey.

Darcy spent hours with her, touring the house, telling her family stories, putting names and histories to the gloomy faces in the portrait gallery. He could not, however, be with her all the time.

She sat in the library most often. It was a beautiful room that held a magnificent collection and had the advantage of being close to Darcy's study where the gentlemen spent much of their time. Hannah was quite satisfied with it and stayed by her side. Elizabeth restlessly perused the shelves and had accumulated an impressive stack of books to read but was having trouble concentrating. She could not go out into the garden, could not look out of the window to admire it. She could not even look at the sky.

Lord Akers discovered that his brother had indeed left the estate and set his own men to seek Maltravers in London. He and Lord Matlock began sharing what little information they had with Darcy, Fitzwilliam, and the Admiral.

On the third day, she paced the library in silence. Hannah had gone to request refreshments, and Elizabeth was wearing a track in her betrothed's magnificent carpet. How long must we wait? As she rounded a corner between two armchairs and the wall, she stopped suddenly. What was that? It came again, almost inaudible, a quiet scraping sound, the slightest brush inside the walls. Mice, it had to be. She sighed and tried to relax her shoulders. Get a grip on yourself, Lizzy!

Hannah entered the room followed by a maid with a rattling tea tray. The sound stopped.

Late in the afternoon on the fourth day, the gentlemen were in the study awaiting a visit from Lord Matlock and Lord Akers, and Hannah was napping. Elizabeth wandered into a pretty upstairs parlour, done up in shades of pink and green. She had seen it on her endless perambulations around the house but had not spent any time in it. It had large windows, and she reckoned it had a lovely view of the tiny grotto of climbing roses and wisteria in the garden below, though the curtains were drawn.

She sat. She would enjoy her own company for a short time. She was almost never alone, and most likely Hannah or Darcy or a servant would find her in moments. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and prepared to enjoy a few quiet moments.

An arm came suddenly around her shoulders, gripping her tightly. She felt something cold against her temple. "You have no protectors now," a voice rasped in her ear.

She screamed and was immediately cuffed on the head. She felt herself being dragged sideways out of the chair. She screamed again.

"Shut it!" he roared and struck her again, quickly shifting his arm from her shoulders to her neck, his hand clamped over her mouth. Elizabeth fought back, twisting in his grip and grabbing at furniture, anything to slow him down. She needed to make noise. He began dragging her to the wall near the fireplace, where a hidden door stood ajar. She hooked her foot round the curved leg of a table of porcelain ornaments and kicked it. It came down with a loud crash.

Was that a scream? Elizabeth!

Darcy jumped up from his desk and ran into the hall. A footman stood looking up the staircase. Another desperate scream rent the air.

"Go!" He shouted at the servant, racing towards the stairs. A loud crash sounded from the parlour, and he hurtled towards the terrifying noise. The footman flung himself through the door just ahead of him, Fitzwilliam and Langley on his heels.

All stopped just inside the room, brought up short by the sight of a man, unshaven, filthy with soil and coal dust, holding a pistol to Elizabeth's head. Her frightened eyes met his. He stepped forwards and growled, "Let go of her!"

"Do not come any closer! She is mine!" screamed Maltravers, wrenching Elizabeth backwards. She bit down hard on his hand, and he fought to hang on to her, just as Lord Matlock and Lord Akers came pelting through the doorway.

"Stop it, you fool!" shouted Lord Akers as his younger brother swung the pistol in his direction.

The presence of his brother shocked and further inflamed him; his face purpled in rage. "Get out of here, Akers, I will kill you first! You ruined me!"

The brothers shouted at each other. Darcy, seeing the man distracted, moved slightly towards Elizabeth, but Maltravers saw him. "Bancroft used this whore to take my ship!" he shrieked, swinging the pistol in Darcy's direction and losing his grip on the struggling Elizabeth, who fell to the floor.

"You had no career to ruin, Roger. You are a failure, always were. Father's money was the only thing protecting you," sneered Lord Akers. "Now I will see you hanged."

Maltravers bellowed in wordless fury and pointed the gun at his brother, pulling the trigger just as Fitzwilliam edged behind him and made a grab for his shoulder. The shot went awry, but Lord Akers was struck in the leg and slid to the floor. Maltravers struggled but was able to extend his arm again. Darcy stared, then understood that he had a repeating pistol. He ran at him once more, on a low trajectory, aiming to pull his arm down, but the gun went off.