Free Darcy's Journey by M. A. Sandiford

until he reached a tree, where Angus and Dougal jumped him and stuffed a
rag in his mouth to keep him quiet.
    Able to move freely at last, with both
guards bound and gagged, Darcy unlatched the gate and led the sailors to a
cypress that he had spotted from Elizabeth’s window. He looked up at the small stone
balcony and rickety wooden shutters. Had they moved her? But why go to
such trouble with two guards outside?
    The tree was too far from the balcony to
provide access. Angus and Dougal conferred by gesture; then Angus leaned
against the wall while Dougal climbed on his back. Dougal’s fingers reached for
the balustrade, but it was too high. Angus pointed to a rope, which Darcy passed
up; Dougal managed to lob the end over the balustrade and thread it back.
Looking down with a grin, he fashioned a noose to grip the top of the wall, and
jumped down.
    Darcy pulled on the rope. It held firm.
    Lower down the rope, the sailors had
tied thick knots to serve as footrests. Angus shimmied up, the iron lever in
his teeth, and was probing the shutters as Darcy joined him. He pointed to a
gap, where a fastener on the inside was visible, wiggled the blade of his knife
through, and lifted it. With a creak the shutter opened to reveal a sash window
slightly ajar.
    Carefully, Darcy raised the window and
climbed inside. He recalled the clammy air and the faint odour of opium. A
woman stirred, then rolled on to her side, asleep. Darcy leaned over the bed
and saw the familiar dark curls, now unpinned, and the pale skin shiny with
sweat.
    It was Elizabeth. She was here.

 
 
 
    14

 
    Someone was whispering her name. A
man’s voice, familiar, like a dream of home.
    ‘Miss Bennet. Elizabeth. Wake up.’
    She twitched, and nearly cried out, but
the reassuring voice hushed her. ‘Don’t be alarmed. You are safe, but we must
speak softly.’
    She saw the outline of his face, just a
few inches away. ‘Mr Darcy! But how …’
    ‘Shh.’ He held a finger to his lips. ‘We
must go now, and take care not to alert the household. Do you understand?’
    ‘Go? But it is impossible …’ Frantic
images came into her mind, of Regina urging her to take her medicine, and
Gabriele waving a document that she had to sign—or had she already signed
it?
    Darcy rested a hand on the blanket, near
her shoulder. ‘I am going to take you back to your family in England, if that
is what you want.’
    Her heart jumped. ‘They say I am too
sick to travel.’
    His voice was quiet, but firm. ‘You are
not sick, Miss Elizabeth. You feel tired and confused because you have been
drugged, with an opiate.’
    ‘It is a medicine …’ A wave of
drowsiness overcame her, and she bit her lip, struggling to focus.
    ‘The physician is in the pay of Signor
Carandini, who seeks to lock you away until you consent to marry him.’
    ‘They say I have signed a document.’ She
recalled her father’s advice. ‘Although I should not have.’
    ‘Do you wish to marry him?’
    ‘Marry?’ She shivered. ‘No. But they say
I have given my word …’
    ‘Miss Bennet, listen carefully. I have
seen the document. The signature is illegible. Either it has been falsified, or
you wrote it when you were half asleep and had no idea what you were agreeing
to. The document does not matter . All that matters is whether you prefer
to stay here, or return to England.’
    She felt a familiar annoyance at the way
he assumed command. But she was too weak to retaliate now; it was a relief to
submit and give herself into his care.
    ‘I will come with you.’
    ‘Then let us make haste. Can you walk?’
    She tried to lever herself up, but her
limbs were so heavy that she trembled with the effort.
    ‘Never mind, I will carry you. Now your
clothes …’
    She pointed at a wardrobe. ‘How can I
dress?’
    ‘No time for that.’ He quickly made up a
bundle and handed it to someone on the balcony.
    She managed to sit up, and pointed to
her nightgown. ‘I cannot travel in