“Do any of the Cavendish family members dwell here?”
“Not any longer. All the furniture has been removed to Welbeck Abbey and a token staff inhabits to maintain, although the lack of constant upkeep is beginning to show. Lord Cavendish and the bulk of the family remain in Devonshire. The castle is more of a tourist attraction than a home, which is fortunate for us.” He smiled at his wife, leaning for a kiss before they disembarked on the wide lawn before the main entrance to the vast house.
Thereafter followed a three-hour, leisurely stroll about the estate grounds and tour of the castle public rooms. The recognition by the staff of the Darcy crest afforded them greater access than the general visiting public. They walked along the battlement walls, the views, across ostensibly the entire width and length of Derbyshire, absolutely breathtaking. It may not have been a functional castle as in the ancient stories, but the atmosphere was authentic. Lizzy honestly expected to see a shining steel encased knight gallop into the courtyard with lance and broadsword at the ready.
The interior was as all fine English manors: lavish and well apportioned. Richly painted murals famous for their depiction of romanticism and English Renaissance chivalry graced nearly every wall and ceiling. It was stupendous, if slightly overwhelming. The cavernous feel of the ostentatious rooms was especially noticeable without furnishings.
Lizzy and Darcy picnicked in solitude in one of the immense courtyards with a bubbling fountain of Venus centrally located. Resuming their journey, Darcy explained the next planned adventure. “I know how you love trees, so thought you would appreciate visiting Whitwell Wood. It is far and away the finest and most sweeping woodland in England, with some four hundred acres of ash, oak, beech, sycamore, and hazel trees predominantly. We can easily swing through the fringes as we veer west toward Eckington and Reniswahl Hall.”
The roughly six-mile drive was delightful. Leaving the coal mines mostly behind, they passed through areas rich in vegetation mingled with limestone buttes. The cool breeze of earlier in the day had long since dissipated, leaving a rising heat. Darcy opened the windows, aiding his wife with fanning as they left the tiny hamlet of Elmton and casually meandered through the barren countryside.
The carriage halted unexpectedly, a sharp rap on the roof indicating the driver's wish to converse with the occupant. Darcy frowned, leaning forward to the open window.
“Yes, Mr. Anders?”
“Sir, pardon the intrusion, but there appears to be an overturned wagon ahead. Should we stop to check it out?”
“Are there any people about?”
“Not that I can see from here, sir.”
Darcy thought for a moment, peering out the window at the empty landscape. “Approach slowly and be cautious. Halt if anyone is visibly hurt. Phillips, be alert and prepared.”
“Yes sir,” they echoed, the carriage moving forward slowly.
“Elizabeth, pull the shades on your side and stay back,” he commanded tensely, reaching to assure the doors were securely latched and to shut the window.
“Do you suspect something amiss, William?” she asked, voice strained.
He glanced over his shoulder with a quick smile. “I am sure it is nothing, love, but wisdom begs for caution.” He resumed his watchfulness to the outside, running a hand under the seat briefly. Eventually he glimpsed the aforementioned wagon lying upside down and partially in the road. Immediate bells rang in his head as there were neither horses nearby nor the expected cargo strewn about the ground. The region surrounding was rocky, with numerous trees thinly spaced on either side of the road, but relatively flat with narrow depressions and hollows. Nonetheless, the road was a well maintained one without ruts or ditches, no loose boulders on tall cliffs or other ready causes to overturn a wagon.
He sensed Lizzy closely behind him before she spoke. “Sit back!” he snapped, Lizzy obeying reflexively to his terse demand. Darcy patted her knee to ease his rudeness precisely as all hell broke loose outside.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Death Interrupts
A loud shout sounded from above and a gunshot crack rang out. The carriage stopped precipitously with a lurch as several voices erupted with yells. Lizzy released a startled squeal as Darcy's hand flashed under the seat. She gasped and eyes widened at the sight of the pistol he retrieved and hastily tucked into the waistband of his breeches at the small of his back. Eyes yet riveted to the window, he reached behind to squeeze her leg, jerking backward in reflex when a grizzled face abruptly appeared at the window.
Lizzy clutched frantically onto Darcy's arm, heart pounding crazily. The man outside brandished a pistol, gesturing for Darcy to exit the carriage. “Elizabeth,” Darcy's deceptively calm and icy voice commanded, “stay inside if you are allowed; otherwise, keep close and to my left side. Do not argue or resist and keep your eyes on me.”
She nodded, not that he could see her as his focus was on the angry man outside, who was now banging on the locked door. Darcy unlocked and opened the carriage door, holding his hands up so the man could see he was unarmed.
“Get out! Now!”
Darcy complied with a quick glance at his wife. Lizzy could see the towering fury in the steeliness of his eyes and clenched jaw, but she also saw the intense fear that she knew was all for her. She kept her seat in hopes that it would be over quickly, the bandits surely wanting money which Darcy could provide, and then they could be on their way. Terror paralyzed her, rising further as the burly man grabbed her husband's arm as he descended and yanked hard, Darcy stumbling on the steps. He righted himself, straightening to his full and impressive height, broad shoulders blocking the doorway.
“I have money,” Darcy offered in a tone of cold authority and command, “take it and be on your way.”
“Not so fast, guv’ner,” a voice answered. “We are in charge here. I reckon a smart lookin’ fella like you has got more than just a money belt.”
“Check inside, Clyde,” another voice spoke. “He ain’t alone. And you, up there, throw us the luggage and get down.”
“There is no luggage,” Lizzy heard Mr. Anders reply.
Darcy interrupted, “My wife and I are on a pleasure ride. We have nothing but the clothing on our backs. Allow me to give you…”
“Enough!” shouted the first voice. “You two, down! Clyde, move rich boy out of the way and get the wife! She probably weighs a ton with jewels.”
Darcy pivoted quickly, leaning in for Lizzy before Clyde could obey his boss. “Elizabeth, come. Stay close.”
“Out of the way!” Clyde yelled, grabbing Darcy's arm. “I am in charge here!”
Darcy's face was livid, Lizzy panic stricken as he turned to the highwayman with a gleam of pure murder evident. “My wife is with child. I will assist her from the carriage…”
Suddenly the pistol was pointed square at Darcy's forehead, a mere inch away. “You will step away, hero, and do as I say.” The moment seemed to stretch, although in truth it was only a fraction of a second, as Darcy glared into the eyes of the thief.
Lizzy leapt forward. “William, it is alright. I can exit myself. Please step back as he said!” Darcy looked at her, absolute terror warring with supreme fury. He nodded brusquely and stepped away, but only a foot, his eyes never leaving Lizzy. She carefully disembarked, Clyde near with pistol waving between her and Darcy. Darcy instantly and painfully gripped her right elbow, pulling her to his left and predominantly behind his body.
This is the scene as Lizzy now beheld it: She and Darcy stood near the rear of the coach with the identified Clyde now pointing the gun straight at Darcy's chest. Mr. Anders and Phillips were positioned by the lead set of horses, another scruffy, dirty bandit covering them with a pistol. The remaining two highwaymen were some ten feet to the side of the road, mounted on horses with muskets loaded and aimed, pistols on each hip. Compared to the two mangy-looking characters on the ground, these two men were fierce and hardened. One appeared to be in his thirties, commanding and calm, a faint smile playing about his lips as if this sort of behavior was of tremendous amusement. The second man was quite young and handsome in a rugged way, probably about Lizzy's age, but there was an edge of menace in his flat, grey eyes that was altogether frightening. He was staring at Lizzy in a manner far too bold and extremely discomforting.