Page 18 of Raised at Rosings (Elizabeth and Darcy True Love Multiverse #4)

Chapter Seventeen

Elizabeth looked about the street they traveled with discrete glances. There were people watching their small group, but thus far, no one had tried to interfere with them. It seemed that the two children were accepted by the community at large, even if she was not. She hoped that, as the darkness deepened with the approaching night, they would continue to be unmolested. She found herself hoping they reached the Drunken Mule sooner rather than later.

Used to walking long distances through the country, ten city blocks were not such a distance, though it still took longer than she liked. By the time they arrived at the Drunken Mule, the hair on the back of Elizabeth’s neck felt like it would never lay flat again. Elizabeth’s heart raced, her instincts kicking in when she sensed the leering stares. She deftly retrieved the knife hidden in her boot and slipped it into her sleeve, all the while appearing to casually correct a loose knot.

Feeling more secure, she forced her face into a demure smile, neither inviting anything nor backing down in fear. Noticing one glance aimed towards Molly, Elizabeth wrapped an arm around the girl, pulling her closer to her side. “Where should I go in order to ask about a transportation?”

Molly glanced around nervously, her eyes darting to the derelict building. It was filled with men and hard-looking women who turned to stare. “In there,” she said, pointing, “they should be able to help you.”

Nodding, Elizabeth glanced around and spotted Matthew not far off, looking uneasy. “I am going to go inside and talk with someone.”

Elizabeth had only taken a few additional steps before she sensed the children’s presence behind her, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence as they followed her into what she realized was a pub of some kind. It was without a doubt not like anything she had ever frequented. Elizabeth managed a smile when she noticed that Molly and Matthew were determined to keep her safe, even within the confines of the building. The sound of boisterous chatter gradually faded to a murmur as people’s eyes fell upon her, intensifying Elizabeth’s awareness of her lack of belonging.

Shoulders back and head held high, Elizabeth made her way to the bar, where a woman with hard eyes stood with a tray of ale and stale bread. Speaking up, she said, “I was told that I would be able to find transportation here.”

“Theres cabs that come through regular like,” the woman muttered as she came around the bar and begun to hand out drinks and collect payment. Once her tray was cleared, she shifted her focus to Elizabeth, her eyes briefly darting across the children before locking onto her. Tsking, she said, “This is not a place for you, Missy. An’ while I might be curious bout why you are here, what I want more is to have you gone.”

“I can appreciate the sentiment. Frankly, the story of how I came to be here is far too long for a casual conversation and I likewise want to be on my way. Where should I wait for the next cab to arrive?” asked Elizabeth.

Grabbing at a rag hanging from her soiled apron, the woman wiped at a table halfheartedly before responding, “Although there is a bench out front, it is full of the regular rabble this time of day.”

With a nod, Elizabeth took her leave to wait in the yard, allowing the woman to continue her work. She only hoped that a cab would come along before it got full dark. Avoiding the bench where there were several half-drunk men involved in a heated discussion, Elizabeth stood out of the way with the children. Facing them both, she said, “I would like to get the cabbie to take you home for your kindness, but I do not want to overstep.”

“That’s all right, Miss.” Matthew shifted his weight back and forth before taking his sister’s arm and adding, “We will be fine.”

Pressing her lips together for a moment, Elizabeth fought the urge to insist they come with her, but it was not as if they were stray kittens. She hardly knew how things would turn out for herself. She had no business stealing them from the life they knew. Offering a weak smile, she said, “I won’t keep you from making your way home. Thank you for seeing me here.” Wishing she could do more, Elizabeth reached under her cape and removed her shawl and draped it around Molly’s shoulders, adding, “I want you to take this. It will keep you warm or if you are in need of funds, it is worth enough that it might bring you a good sum.”

Mouth dropping open, Molly ran her hand along the fringe, saying, “It is far too lovely for the likes of me, Miss Lizzie.”

“You have helped me in my hour of need. You do not know how grateful I am to have had you here with me. Please allow me to show you the weight of my gratitude in the best way that I can in my current situation.” Then, turning to Matthew, she handed him half of the money that the cabbie had given her. “Take care of yourselves, and if you are ever in need or interested in a different type of work, please do not hesitate to go to the big church on the corner of Elm. I am friends with the vicar’s wife—we work on the same charity—and she will know how to get in touch with me. I am sure that we would be able to work something out to help you both. For example, if you are thinking about leaving London, we can recommend some Estates that are looking for dependable individuals like yourselves. Alternatively, I may know a few farm families in the countryside who would gladly welcome two more children, and not just for the work that you could provide.”

For a brief moment, Matthew and Molly exchanged bright glances before their faces became carefully impassive. After murmuring a quick thank you and giving a gentle tug on his sister’s arm, the two children scurried away into the deepening shadows, leaving Elizabeth to navigate what was left of her time in the London slum by herself.

Darcy watched as his aunt’s face pinched up in fury as she glared at him, and he idly wondered how his mother could have had such a woman as her sister. Even years after her death, the staff at Pemberley remembered Anne Darcy with fondness, recounting tales of her compassionate nature and gentle demeanor, a beloved mistress whose memory lingered in the halls of Pemberley. The woman before him, with her cruel disposition, had few similarities to his mother, even if they were sisters.

Lady Catherine’s lips pressed together, turning white before she opened her mouth to say, “Have you no familial feeling?”

This gave Darcy no cause to hesitate, and he easily answered, “For you? No.”

Gaping in outrage, Lady Catherine quickly lashed out, growling, “You would choose that girl over propriety, over even what is just? What of the duty, honor, and gratitude you owe to those who paved your path, allowing you this grand life of abundance and opportunity?”

With a sharp intake of breath, Darcy leaned back from his aunt and unleashed a cold, harsh bark of laughter at her admonition; the sound was jarring and free from any sort of joy or his typical humor. Crossing his arms, Darcy watched Lady Catherine stew for a bit before he chided, “Let us take this one at a time, shall we?” Ticking each thing off on his fingers as he went, Darcy said, “Duty. I have a duty to the people of my estates to care for and provide for them and the land. I even have a duty as a human being to strive to be a kind, caring, and compassionate person, especially toward the less fortunate. Those duties may be unfamiliar to you as you have never even attempted to honor them. And that brings us to honor. I honor my mother and father by trying to live up to the example they set, filled with compassion, resilience, and a strong moral compass. I also aim to honor God and uphold His commandments and principles. And let us not forget gratitude. I am grateful to many people in my life for the joy they have brought to me, and I am grateful to those that have gone before me clearing the way for the life I live today. I do not, however, owe you any duty, honor or gratitude as you have done nothing to deserve them, and I will always choose Elizabeth over you.”

Clutching her chest, Lady Catherine shook her head, lamenting, “This is not to be born! She has poisoned you against me and all that is right. It is a good thing that she is no longer here to usurp my rule.” Sitting up straighter, Lady Catherine attempted to look more imposing when she said, “While my daughter may be the mistress of this house, she is in no position to manage anything, so I am managing it in her stead. I demand that both of you leave this place immediately. I will not be bothered by two so unnatural children in my presence.”

With a curt, sharp tone, Richard retorted, “There is nothing you can do to compel us to leave. The staff is not loyal to you. They are loyal to Anne and Elizabeth and will help us at every turn. You cannot overpower even one of us, let alone both of us, so you will have to abide by our presence. Though you may retire to your room if you let us know what you did with Elizabeth.”

Done with her behavior Darcy snarled, “If you do not tell us where Elizabeth is, I will not only make certain that you are sent to Bedlam, but I will also make sure that you are in the public area where people will be able to pay to watch you suffer for a pittance.”

“You do not have the power to do such a thing. I am the daughter of an earl, and my brother is the current Earl of Matlock,” she countered, though Darcy could see the fear in her eyes.

Coming to stand next to Darcy, their shoulders brushing, Richard hissed, “My father practically views Elizabeth as another daughter. Do not think for a moment that he will hesitate to seek retribution on her behalf. And do not forget that I am the son of the current earl and will do everything in my power to see to it that you land in Bedlam.”

“She is gone! Beyond your reach and back to the gutter where she belongs,” exploded Lady Catherine.

The chilling statement from his aunt sent a wave of icy terror through Darcy, his heart seizing with the sharp sting of horror. Forcing himself to speak, his voice came out low and gravelly. “Are you telling us that you had Elizabeth left somewhere in the slums of London?”

“Where!?” cried Richard.

Throwing her hands in the air, she complained, “How am I to know? I told the man to take us to a bad part of town. All I know of it is that the stench of decay was heavy in the air. When she refused to behave as she should and would not apologize for her presumption, I had her unceremoniously removed from the carriage and deposited in the gutter.”

Spinning around, Darcy strode towards the front door, eager to search for the woman who held his heart captive. Calling over his shoulder, he said, “You better hope I find Elizabeth before anything happens to her, Aunt. Otherwise, you’ll face consequences far worse than you can imagine.” Then, pausing for a moment, he looked at Richard and added, “Do what you want with her. I want nothing to do with that viper; the mere sight of her makes me angry enough to forget myself and my duty to be a gentleman, so it would be best for me to not be in her presence at this time.”

Waiting for a ride away from the yard of the Drunken Mule, Elizabeth attempted to decide where she would have the carriage take her. She did not really have that many options. Lady Catherine had always been very cruel in her retaliation, but until recently, Elizabeth never would have suspected her to behave so rashly. Biting her lip, Elizabeth wondered if she had been too confident in herself and in the staff’s loyalty to her and Anne to think that she would ever find herself in such a bind. She supposed that she should have considered the fact that there were always people desperate enough to do foul deeds for the money she would offer.

A prickling sensation crawled up her neck; the hairs stood on end, a stark reminder that danger still lurked, a feeling that wouldn’t leave until she escaped the slums and reached safety. With her exact whereabouts unknown, she had no idea how long getting somewhere safe would take, nor even when a hackney would arrive to take her away. Trying not to appear too eager, Elizabeth looked down the street, hoping to catch a glimpse of a carriage coming her way.

Maintaining a rigid posture, Elizabeth battled the unsettling weight of many eyes upon her, their silent scrutiny a tangible pressure. Her thoughts drifted to Fitzwilliam Darcy and how had he been there with her, he would take the men to task that dared to leer at her. Even without him by her side to offer protection, the mere thought of him seemed to bolster Elizabeth. Knowing he respected her and was gentleman enough to see to her safety was a nice thing to think of when she felt insecure.

Oh, she had a driving instinct to make sure that she could fend for herself should the need arise, but it was wonderful to know that she was not the only person who was concerned for her safety. It made her want to rush to his house and find comfort in his embrace. Not that he had ever embraced her before, but she had a vivid imagination, and she knew instinctively that she would find solace in his arms.

The logical part of her knew that going to Darcy House was out of the question. Elizabeth recognized the impropriety of visiting a single gentleman’s residence unaccompanied. Georgianna had told her of his experiences with young ladies and their family’s attempts to trap him into unwanted marriages. She had explained that, though he could maintain the veneer of civility in public, behind closed doors it would turn into brooding resentment. Their relentless pursuit of him and their callous disregard for what he might want stoked the fires of his anger, until Georgianna feared it would consume him. He had lost quite a bit of faith in society going through that, and she was not about to risk having him feel that way about her. She would not risk trapping him into an unwanted marriage.

The earl’s residence was the only option she could see that would work, so she would go to Matlock House if a carriage would ever arrive. Though she doubted they’d be home that evening. Jane often wrote to her about the busy schedule they kept while in town. They were constantly out at society gatherings. Though Elizabeth occasionally enjoyed the elegant spectacle of a play or opera, she preferred the quiet company of a good book to the clamor and bright lights of balls and public gatherings. Regardless, she felt certain that the busy but efficient staff would care for her needs, whether the earl and his family were in residence.

After what felt like too much time waiting, Elizabeth was finally able to hear the clop of hooves approaching, alerting her to the approach of a carriage. She waited with bated breath for it to make its way to her, only to have an arm slung over her shoulder. Silently cursing, Elizabeth knew that she had been spending too much time watching for the carriage and not keeping an eye on the rabble that was behind her. Feeling all kinds of a fool for not hearing the man’s approach, Elizabeth gripped at the hilt of the knife that she had stuck up her sleeve earlier.

“Why you wantin’ to leave, darlin’?” Elizabeth recoiled at the words whispered in her ear, feeling repulsed by the foul odor of his breath and the meaning behind his presumptuousness. She shrugged off the man’s arm around her shoulder and took a cautious step back, but he followed her step for step. Smiling and showing off a maw of rotting teeth, he gestured to another man who was getting up from the bench, cajoling, “We can make it worth your while if you stay for a little while.”

Looking over his shoulder she could see that one of the other men had followed him and was standing only a few feet away, a lurid grin on his face. Elizabeth raised her voice and, hoping she sounded firm, said, “Thank you, but no.”

“Don’t be like that,” he sneered, his arm reaching out to encircle her shoulder once more.

Instinctively Elizabeth knew that though she might be able to keep one man at bay, she would be hard pressed to escape from two, even with her knife. It was vital that she impress upon them why trying anything with her was a very bad idea. She began planning her next move when the long-awaited carriage came into view, its horse’s hooves clopping at a lazy pace. It was now or never. Elizabeth’s instincts kicked in, and she sprang into action, determined to protect herself at all costs. Faster than the obviously inebriated man could respond, Elizabeth stepped forward with her unsheathed knife at his groin. Richard had always said it was the best option in that sort of situation. With a clenched jaw and hard eyes, Elizabeth mustered, “I was polite, but that did not seem to work, so now I will be less polite. I am not interested in you or your friend. I will be leaving and if you attempt anything, the first thing I will do is hurt you in a way that will prevent this problem from ever happening again.”

Despite her bold words and firm resolve, Elizabeth was taken aback when he simply nodded, tipped his cap, and calmly walked away, a wide grin showing off his yellowed teeth. When his friend began to protest, her almost attacker said, “Leave ‘er be. I like her spunk.” Without any further protest, both men faded back into the gathered riffraff.

Luckily, before she did something undignified, like collapsing in relief, the carriage stopped next to her. Looking up at him, she asked, “Can you take me as far as Mayfair?”

Scratching his head, he countered, “I can, but it won’t be cheap.”

Smiling, Elizabeth surreptitiously sheathed her knife and answered, “I can pay you part of the fare now and pay the rest, plus a generous tip once I get where I am going.” Holding out what was left of the money the cabbie had given her earlier in the night, she let the light glint off the coins.

Reaching down, he collected the coins in a flash and then, with a quick gesture of his thumb, he directed her towards the carriage and said, “Get in.”

Elizabeth was not even upset he had not descended to assist her into the carriage. She was simply grateful to be able to get away and make her way toward what she considered safety. It was only once they were away that she realized just how badly her hands were shaking. Gripping her hands in her skirt, Elizabeth fought not to cry. There would be time for that later. For now, she was not entirely safe, and she needed to get the money out of the hem of her cape.