Page 31 of Elizabeth and the Beast (A Pride and Prejudice Variation)
Elizabeth
“T he back door,” Elizabeth called and scrambled to the back of the rectory which was connected to the church. She grabbed the handle, but it was of no use, it turned but appeared to be stuck, as if something had been placed on the other side—no doubt by the fleeing men. They had trapped them here. The windows, of which there were three, would not provide them with an escape either as they were all too small for an adult to climb through. The only window that would have provided an escape route was blocked off by the fire as it had been close to where the candle holder had fallen.
“Locked,” she called to Mr Darcy who was still at the front door, pulling and shaking the handle as if it might magically unlock. She saw the sheer panic on his face and could only imagine what it had to be like for him at this moment. How could Wickham do this to them? To Mr Darcy?
Elizabeth’s lungs burned as she coughed, her eyes stinging from the thick smoke that filled the rectory. The heat was unbearable, pressing in on her from all sides as the flames crept closer. The fire had spread so quickly in the wooden building she could hardly make sense of it. Of course, everything inside the rectory was wood which provided ample fuel—a shelf full of books had fed the flames, and the curtains which had been so carefully hung had all but asked to be ignited. Panic clawed at her chest, but she fought to keep her wits about her. She had to find a way out. For both of them.
“Darcy!” she screamed, her voice hoarse and raw. She could see him struggling to find a way through the inferno, his eyes wild with fear and desperation as he rushed towards the larger window only to find it blocked by the burning curtains. She had to do something, anything, to help. She ran to the back door again, she pounded on the door with all her might, her fists bruising against the hard wood, hoping to dislodge whatever had been placed there to stop their escape..
“Help! Someone, please help!” she cried, but her voice was swallowed by the roar of the fire.
The flames were spreading rapidly now, consuming the room with a voracious appetite. Elizabeth could feel the heat on her back, could see the flickering orange glow reflecting off the walls. She was trapped. Turning back, she saw Mr Darcy fighting to clear a path through the smoke, his form barely visible through the thick, acrid air. The smoke was so thick she could barely see, her vision blurring as tears streamed down her face.
Elizabeth ran back to Mr Darcy, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She reached for him, pulling at his arm. “We have to get out of here!” she shouted, her voice breaking. They both coughed violently, their lungs burning from the acrid smoke. The room was quickly becoming a death trap, the flames consuming everything in their path.
They huddled together in a corner, the fire closing in around them. Mr Darcy’s eyes were filled with anguish as he looked at Elizabeth, his face smudged with soot.
“Elizabeth, I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I cannot believe this is happening. I … I … I cannot lose you.”
Elizabeth gripped his hand tightly, her own eyes filled with tears. “You will not. We are not giving up, Mr Darcy. We will find a way out.”
Mr Darcy’s expression was one of deep sorrow and regret. “No, Elizabeth. We are trapped. The smoke will… Oh, Elizabeth. You should have had a long, happy life. This isn’t how it was supposed to be.”
Elizabeth shook her head, her resolve unyielding. “Don’t say that. We will get through this together.”
She wasn’t sure if it was her words or something else but suddenly his face changed and he sat upright, his eyes scanning the burning room.
“You are right. I can’t let this happen again. I won’t. We will not die like this.” He got up and extended his hand to her. Then, he walked her into the corner, farthest away from the fire.
“Wait here,” he said, his voice urgent.
“Mr Darcy!” she called but he had already rushed towards the window, seemingly into the fire.
“Mr Darcy!” she called again. What was he doing. She saw movement and then heard a shattering sound as the window broke. A gust of air fed the flames further and she huddled back down into a ball, trying to shield herself from them. Then, the back door across from her flew open and water splashed inside.
“Elizabeth, I’m coming!” he shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of the flames.
Elizabeth’s hope surged as she saw Mr Darcy reappear. He had a wet cape over himself and threw one just like it over her. The sudden influx of cold against her heated skin was soothing and so was his hand as it gripped hers.
“Come with me,” he shouted and pulled her past the growing flames and outside into the cold air.
Elizabeth clung to him, her heart racing as she drank in the fresh, cool air.
“Thank you,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “I… How? How?”
Mr Darcy held her close, his relief palpable. “I couldn’t let anything happen to you. I knew that if we were to die, I had to at least try my best. I had nothing to lose so… I… I saw the curtain beginning to fall and I knew that was my chance. I was able to pull it down and break the window with the candle holder.”
“I can’t believe it,” she whispered and looked at the rectory which was burning bright, and the flames had already begun to eat into the church in front.
“Elizabeth, I have been awful to you for so long and you did not deserve it. These past two weeks I’ve… I’ve learned just how wrong I was and I…”
She looked up at him, her heart beating faster. Could this be the moment she had been waiting for? The moment he told her how he felt about her? But how did she feel about him? It was true she had changed her view of him over the last few weeks, and there had been thoughts that had grown more dominant over the past days… thoughts that saw her imagine them together as a couple, a true couple. But this? Could this be true? Did she love him? Yes, she knew the answer already. She did. Despite everything she’d grown to love this man… and he?
Elizabeth and Mr Darcy stood outside the burning rectory, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames. The heat was intense, and the smell of smoke filled the air. Elizabeth’s heart pounded as she clung to Darcy’s arm, both of them silent now when a sudden, familiar voice called out, “Mr Darcy! Miss Bennet!”
They turned to see Mr Lightower, Darcy’s valet, rushing towards them. With him were Mrs Dillinger, Mary, and several townspeople, all looking resolved and ready to help.
“Mrs Dillinger came to Pemberley and told us you were going to confront Wickham. She and Miss Bennet had been on their way to tell us, when a man stopped the cart and took Miss Bennet. I’d just returned and knew what I had to do.” Mr Lightower said breathlessly.
One of the men stepped forward. “Mrs Wexford alerted us to what Wickham has been up to so we came. We wanted to help. Looks like you need us.” Behind him, the others had already lined up at the well to grab water to extinguish the flames, with the man now joined them.
Mr Lightower nodded. “I had just returned from my errand and was told where you had gone. I came as quickly as I could.”
Mr Darcy gripped his valets shoulder in gratitude. “Thank you, all of you. We need to send someone to the constable. Wickham tried to kill Miss Bennet and I.” Quickly, he relayed the message and Mr Lightower set off for the constable’s house.
Without wasting any more time, the group sprang into action. Buckets of water were brought up from the well and a human chain was formed to douse the flames. More and more townspeople arrived, each one lending a hand to fight the fire. The sense of community and solidarity was palpable as everyone worked together with a single purpose. Elizabeth and Mr Darcy joined the line, with a second one forming towards the well of a nearby farm.
By dusk, the fire was out. The church had been saved, but the rectory was ruined. The once-sturdy building now stood as a charred skeleton, its walls blackened, and beams fallen. As Elizabeth and Mr Darcy leaned against a nearby fence, out of breath, a rider approached.
“Cogsworth?” Darcy said.
“Sir!” the butler dismounted and approached. “Lightower told me what happened. He and I went to the constable together and he’s set off with the constable to chase after Wickham. He and his friends can’t have gone far and will surely be caught soon.”
“I can only hope so,” Elizabeth said as she squeezed Mr Darcy’s arm.
As the townspeople began to disperse, offering their congratulations and farewells, Elizabeth and Mr Darcy found a quiet moment alone. They stood close together, the remnants of the fire casting a warm glow on their faces.
“Elizabeth,” Mr Darcy began, his voice soft and filled with emotion. “I was so afraid of losing you. I have been such a fool for so long. The danger I put you in and… I could never forgive myself if something had happened to you.”
Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I was afraid of losing you. But we’re here, together.”
He took her hands in his, his gaze intense and loving. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life. I love you, Elizabeth. More than words can express.”
Elizabeth’s heart swelled with joy. “And I love you, Fitzwilliam. With all my heart.”
They stood there, surrounded by the aftermath of the fire and the cooling night air, feeling the weight of their love and the strength of their bond. Mr Darcy leaned in and kissed her, a tender, passionate kiss that spoke of all their trials and triumphs, their hopes and dreams.
As they pulled apart, their foreheads resting against each other, Mr Darcy whispered, “We will face everything together, Elizabeth. I promise.”
Elizabeth smiled, her heart full. “Together, always.”
The ordeal with Mr Wickham had tested them, but it had also brought them closer. And as they stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, they knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them side by side, their love burning brighter than any flame.