Page 46 of Until My Last Breath

After some time galloping, they reached an old equipage she remembered well. They dismounted, and still holding his knife, Wickham pushed Elizabeth inside.

“How was everything?” the man who would drive the carriage asked.

“It was as we had planned,” Wickham lied, entering the carriage behind Elizabeth. “Now let us move.”

Alone with Wickham, Elizabeth could not hold her tongue any longer. “So that was your plan? To have your partners arrested or killed? I am ashamed to think I ever considered you a friend; believed your lies. I confronted Mr Darcy, demanding him to answer my questions about his dealings with you as a gentleman, only to realise the crude reality that you are not just everything he said you were, but much more! A scoundr—.”

A violent slap in her face threw her head against the window cutting the words from her lips.

“Be silent!” Wickham shouted at the top of his lungs. “I do not need you to tell me what I have become. I hate all of you. All of you who hadforced me into what I am today.”

Rubbing her cheek, Elizabeth brought her finger to her already sore lips and found fresh blood on them. It took all her strength to calm her irregular breathing as she fought back enraged tears. But she would not cry, not in front of him.

So, was that her fate? Being sold and transported to a distant country and forced for the rest of her life to…

She shivered. Dreadful thoughts were now impossible to contain. How would anyone know where to look for her?

She turned to the window, observing the dark and foggy scenery of the night. They passed by them at the same breakneck speed as her hopes vanished.

Elizabeth closed her eyes. There was no way out. She was lost forever.

No.

She could not accept it.

She would not surrender; at least, not without a good fight — even if it meant losing her life. In this case, death was preferable. Wickham could join the army of demons in hell if he wished, but she would try one last time.

She opened her eyes and slowly raised her gaze back to him, a plan forming in her mind.

After what seemed like an eternity, Wickham was finally looking away.

Now.

She kicked the hand holding the knife and lunged at the carriage door, opening it.

Wickham growled, cursing aloud, his hat flying through the door into the darkness. Plunging after her before she could jump, he grabbed her arm and soon they were engaged in a fight for their lives. It took him all his strength to hold a wild Elizabeth as he shouted a couple of times for the driver to stop.

The jolt of the carriage threw both of them forward; Wickham landedon his shoulder and Elizabeth on her head. Dizziness weakened her and she could not resist her captor anymore.

“Bloody wild cat! Damn, you Elizabeth!” Wickham cursed again, wiping some blood from his upper lip. “Johnson! Get me the rope!” Wickham shouted to the driver. “I want to see you trying to escape now.”

~ ♥ ~

Richard could not believe his eyes. The bloody room was empty!

But how?

“Perhaps a servant’s entrance,” Dr Alden suggested.

Richard bumped his shoulder against the panelled walls until one of them opened to the servant’s corridor. He stopped, looking into the darkness, cursing under his breath.

Some muffled words could be heard from the bedroom.

“He is in there,” Richard heard the doctor saying.

“Colonel?” somebody called. A young officer entered the small room. “Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but we found Lieutenant Carter on the floor, unconscious. He was hit on the head. There is also a horse missing—”

“What? How is that possible?” Richard thundered, interrupting the young man. “Has anybody seen anything?”

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