Page 142 of Miss Bennet's Dragon
“We saw no guards, so moved closer. There was raucous noise inside the house. Yells and coarse songs. Many horses were tethered in the yard, with few men watching them. We swung by the stables and observed they had a new prisoner, which irritated me as we had so diligently relieved them of their last batch.” He acknowledged Lord Wellington, who returned a polite nod of his own. “That, and the temptation to reclaim my horse, convinced me to confront the sole guard in the stable, a man of poor loyalty who was willing to be tied and gagged rather than run through. We untied their prisoner and discovered he had driven Miss Bennet here from Longbourn.”
Mr. Darcy stopped then, his eyes distant.
“And you chose to investigate further,” Lord Wellington said.
“We three chose that together. Even Miss Bennet’s driver. He is a stout man and was determined to save his passenger. Together, we snuck into the house cellars.”
“What?” I exclaimed. “You wentintoa house full of enemy soldiers?”
“It is my house,” Mr. Darcy said as if that explained it.
Lord Wellington seemed unsurprised by this idiotic behavior. “What did you learn?”
“Nothing useful, other than confirming there were no prisoners in the cellars. There was some excitement, and we were forced to depart. But we escaped with my horse, and two others.”
“Capital,” Lord Wellington said with a grin, as if Mr. Darcy had described an afternoon of shooting quail.
I, however, was annoyed by this masculine bravado. “Wickham is defiling Pemberley House. Portraits were ripped down and burned. Furniture and decorations smashed.”
“It is only a house,” Mr. Darcy said.
“It is a verynicehouse!” I exclaimed, then remembered that was not my point. “You must be cautious. Wickham’s vendetta is personal. The French commander wished you captured, but if not for that, I distrust how Wickham would treat you. Your life would be at risk.”
“Indeed, he made that threat,” Mr. Darcy noted calmly.
I crossed my arms and gave Mr. Darcy a glare for his cavalier attitude. He had the decency to appear abashed.
Lord Wellington stepped into the breach. “I counted thirty men around the lake. An even larger force is at the house, and at least ten deployed toward Lambton. We may face a hundred men. Half are disciplined soldiers, French from their training although camouflaged in English civilian clothes. The other half are a decrepit bunch in cast-off English uniforms.”
“The ones in uniforms are Englishmen, but of a most poor quality,” I said. Mr. Darcy nodded his agreement.
“Even so, we are vastly outnumbered and out-armed,” Lord Wellington continued. “Our strategy remains the same: scout, do not engage, and wait for reinforcements.” To me, he added, “Darcy and I dispatched two Pemberley footmen by separate routes to raise the alarm. I sent written orders in my name with both. In Lambton, they will notify the constables to raise the army, then requisition horses to proceed to Sheffield. There, they can send notice to the navy by messenger pigeon. The navy will seal any chance of escape at the coast. I assume the French put their men ashore at Gibraltar Point—” He stopped, and his eyes widened. “The French attack at Margate was a feint. They drew our navy south so they could approach this coast.”
Mr. Darcy said, “The claim that they would raid the Thames was always ridiculous.”
I waited for him to mention that I pointed that out to him, but apparently he had forgotten.
“Are we safe here?” I asked.
“Very safe,” Lord Wellington replied. “We have sentries posted, and we are four miles from Pemberley. A four-mile circle is fifty square miles of woods—far too much to search. If they are even searching. I have seen no sign of such an effort, and they cannot start so close to sunset.”
“The army will arrive in the morning,” Mr. Darcy said with some relish. “And the navy will prevent escape.”
“The impossibility of escape seems very obvious,” I said.
Lord Wellington looked at me thoughtfully. “Miss Bennet is correct. We have misunderstood something. Their plan is well-provisioned and executed. They would not ignore escape.”
“Perhaps they are not searching for us because we do not endanger their plan,” I said. “Even if we summon help.”
“What is their plan?” Mr. Darcy asked.
I realized he had missed the events by the lake. “They seek to bind a French wyfe to draca. They married three French couples by Pemberley lake. With a stupendous cache of marriage gold.”
“Then they may already have left.”
“Not yet,” I replied. “Wickham said, ‘Tomorrow, I am bound for France.’ Binding does not occur during the ceremony. The bond forms during the marriage night. It was close to dawn when my sister Jane bound.”
“How do you know?” Lord Wellington asked.
