Page 35 of Pemberley's Imposter
After what felt like an eternity, the boots retreated and the door closed behind them. Immediately thereafter, the clopping sound of hoofs moving away reverberated through the ground. Elizabeth kept completely still, waiting a few minutes before she deemed it safe to open her eyes.
She was lying on the floor of a small and abandoned cottage with thick layers of dust coating every surface. She wanted to see who lay beside her. Turning, Elizabeth looked straight into Mr Darcy’s ashen countenance. A similar cloth to the one on the floor was still tucked around his nose and mouth. Her hands were bound behind her back, and her ankles were tied tightly together, but she managed to wriggle closer in a most unladylikefashion—a strange thought to be having when propriety should be the least of her concerns. She supposed it was so rooted in her that it had become a part of her very being.
She inched closer and bit into the cloth covering her estranged husband’s face whilst holding her breath. The cloth was tucked firmly around his head, but she managed to tug it away while her own head swam with dizziness.
Mr Darcy did not awaken; neither did his hue revert back to its natural colour. It still sported an odd grey tint, and his features were at ease. Perhaps too much so? Elizabeth observed his chest to see whether there was any movement. His position was awkward, on his back with his hands tied under him. His chest appeared to rise and fall ever so slightly, but it might be her mind playing tricks on her.
Elizabeth inched closer, lifting her body with the sheer strength in her back and putting her cheek to his face. It was difficult to tell, but she might feel a faint warmth coming from his mouth.
Elizabeth used to assert the direction of the wind by licking her finger before holding it up in the air because it was much easier to feel a slight breeze on a wet digit. Her hands were tied but her mouth was not. Elizabeth let her tongue slide over her dry and chapped lips and rose to hover over Mr Darcy’s mouth. There was definitely a slight breath emanating from him. It was to be hoped he would revive once the effects of whatever the colonel had given them had worn off.
The nausea reappeared after her exertions. Elizabeth lay back on the floor and dozed off. When she awoke, the room was dark; night-time must have come upon them, and her stomach rumbled in dissatisfaction at the lack of sustenance. The coldwas seeping into her bones. A little more rest and all would be well.
Chapter 13 Willow Cottage
The birds were chirping happily despite Elizabeth’s strife. Her hands and feet had remained hampered in the same uncomfortable position for God knows how many hours. She wriggled her numb and aching limbs as much as the ropes would allow.
“I wondered when you planned to wake up.”
Elizabeth gasped and turned her head abruptly, sending a wave of nausea through her body. It was better to keep perfectly still until her stomach had settled, but it was comforting to know Mr Darcy was alive, especially when you wanted your hands untied, but it was a disadvantage when all he did was quarrel with you.
“I take umbrage with your accommodations, Mr Darcy. At least my cottage in Little Kings Hill had a wooden floor.”
“This is not one of my cottages.”
“No, but I suspect it belongs to a trusted family member…” She sighed and decided to be more civil. “I do not suppose you know how we travelled hither?”
“I do not.”
The fog slowly drifted from her mind.Ellie! How could I forget—wasting precious moments arguing with a recalcitranthusband!Elizabeth tossed herself onto her back to look for her daughter. She was certain Ellie had been lying on her chest mere seconds ago. Or could it be hours? She had drifted in and out of sleep, ignorant to how much time had passed.
The sudden movement had an unpleasant effect on her stomach and brought her closer to Mr Darcy than she would prefer.
“Ellie,” she whispered before clearing her throat and crying out her daughter’s name, but no one answered.
“I doubt we are close enough to Pemberley for her to hear you,” came the dry answer close to her ear.
“Ellie was with me, you oaf. Help me up!”
Elizabeth stared imploringly at Mr Darcy, who looked shocked before he rocked to the side and wrenched himself into a sitting position. Elizabeth copied his movement and sat up herself, searching frantically around her in the barren cottage. There was not much to inspect but a fireplace, a table, two chairs, and a cot with an old mould-infested throw tossed upon it. Dread lay its clammy hand upon her heart. Could Ellie have been left out in the cold, or worse, taken by the colonel?
“Untie me,” she demanded.
Mr Darcy suggested they should try to sit with their backs to each other, working simultaneously on the ropes around their wrists. They managed to wriggle themselves into position, but their hands kept bumping against one another while they struggled with the knots at the same time.
“This is not working. We should take turns,” Elizabeth declared impatiently.
“Leave it, then. I shall free you first, then you can untie me,” Mr Darcy retorted angrily.
“I am proficient at untangling knots in lace,” Elizabeth asserted.
“Have at it, then.”
Mr Darcy relaxed his hands, making it easier for Elizabeth to work the rope until she grew tired and let her husband take over the struggle with the tangles. She fought to sit up straight so as not to lean on him, but her back ached and she relented, resting her tired body against the sturdy trunk of her husband.
“Are you absolutely certain Ellie was with you?” Mr Darcy enquired quietly whilst tugging on her bonds.
“Yes!” she replied firmly. “Ellie and I were out in the park when a wayward dog enticed Ellie to run away from me. She chased him to the mausoleum, where I heard a strange noise coming from within. It sounded like a bird might have been trapped inside, and I decided to investigate. We had just entered when a sweet smell pervaded the air and my mouth was covered with a cloth. I remember nothing more before I awoke in a cramped, dark place. Oh! I heard wheels on gravel.”
