Free Darcy's Journey by M. A. Sandiford Page A

this.’
    ‘We’ll use the bedclothes. Permit me.’
She gasped as he pulled back the blankets, and he raised a hand. ‘This is no
time for delicacy. Relax, and try not to make a sound.’
    His arms came around her and he lifted
her on top of the bedclothes, then wrapped her like a parcel. The sensation of
his hands through the thin cotton nightdress took her breath away, but with his
warning fresh in her mind she remained compliant. A wave of fresh air hit her
as he handed her through the window to another pair of hands; a moment later
she found herself on the balcony floor. She probed under the blankets and felt
rough canvas.
    A hand touched her arm, and Darcy
whispered, ‘Keep still. We’re lowering you in a hammock.’
    The canvas enfolded her and she was
swinging back and forth. There was a muffled oath from above as the hammock
bumped against the outside of the balcony, but she was unhurt, and did not cry
out. Another pair of hands guided her to the ground. Light footsteps sounded
behind her as Darcy and another man descended, then the hammock rose again,
twisting her into a bow shape as her head and feet were pulled up.
    She heard a rattle from the villa
followed by the bang of a shutter, and a shriek of ‘Intrusi!’
    ‘Confound it!’ Darcy growled, no longer
keeping his voice down. The hammock swayed as the men rushed her through the
gate. In the corner of her eye she saw Darcy alongside, shouting at the men to
stop.
    ‘Too slow! I will take her. Run ahead
and alert the others.’
    She felt his arms enfold her body, still
wrapped in the bedclothes, and they set off again, now at running pace. The cries
from the villa receded, then they were alone, in a woodland, with Darcy
breathing heavily as he picked his way between the trees.

 
    A cold breeze woke her. She was in
a boat, leaning against the hard edge of a platform at the rear. In front of
her she recognised Darcy, silhouetted against the moonlight as he pulled on an
oar; beyond him she counted five other men. As she sat up a headwind caught her
hair, which streamed behind. The men grunted with exertion. She reached back
and tried to fold her hair into the blankets, but it flew out again as soon as
she released it.
    Darcy stopped rowing, and pointed.
‘There! Another boat, from the same dock.’
    ‘A gud half-mile ahint,’ a man replied.
    Darcy applied himself again to his oar,
and smiled as he realised she was awake. ‘Comfortable?’
    Not very , she thought, but at
least the blankets were keeping her warm. ‘Who is following us?’
    ‘I fear Carandini has found
reinforcements.’ He pointed over his shoulder. ‘Do you see an opening inland
from the lagoon?’
    She leaned over, and squinted into the
distance. ‘I see two openings. No, three.’
    They passed between a pair of tiny
islands, and a man at the front shouted, ‘ Fusina .’
    Elizabeth looked back at Darcy. ‘Is that
our target?’
    He nodded.
    ‘And after that?’
    He frowned. ‘We shall see.’
    Unaccountably she felt a lightening of
spirits, and met his eye with a smile. ‘Mr Darcy, am I to understand that you
have no idea what to do next?’
    He smiled back. ‘My plans are flexible.’
    ‘In other words, non-existent.’
    ‘Miss Bennet, we have a two-mile row
ahead of us into a stiff wind. Lie back and try to sleep. Perhaps when you
wake, my plans will have evolved to your satisfaction.’
    She laughed—when had she last done
that?—and tried to find a comfortable angle to rest her head.

 
 
 
    15

 
    When they reached Fusina it was
still dark, but the wharf was already busy as goods from Venice were loaded on
to barges, to be drawn by horse power along the river towards the Brenta canal.
Looking back across the lagoon Darcy could no longer discern which of the boats
had been pursuing them from Lido. He had wondered whether to dock first elsewhere,
as a decoy, but decided that the priority was speed: they had only half an hour
on Carandini and his men, and must