28. Terror in the Dark

Chapter Twenty-Eight – Terror in the Dark

AN: I am greatly enjoying the "guest" reviewer who, after reading each chapter, is "definitely" going to stop reading. I knew that I'm not a best-selling author material, but I didn't realize how terrible I was. It might be insulting if it wasn't so amusing. Like most of the other contributors, I am writing for fun, just as most readers are reading for fun. So please have fun reading... and if it isn't to your taste, I will not be offended if you don't read the next chapter... really... honestly... leave.

And to everyone else, thank you for reading. I hope that you enjoy. The angsty chapters are almost over.

Thanks to the reviewer who pointed out that I already killed off Lowry. The story plot was once much more complicated and I chose to simplify it, but my notes became a bit of a mess. So the Lowry of this and the previous chapter is now Pike.

Catherine Bennet almost fell over the blankets strewn haphazardly on the pebbled path, and it was only through quick reflexes that she managed to not dump the tray of cold meats and cheeses she was carrying to the people fighting the fire. It was this that made her pause, but it was the deep, rumbling groan that made her look off the dark path and over to where a large, misshapen lump moved. Her first instinct was to abandon the tray and run, but there had been something recognizable in that groan.

Thankfully, two servants came up behind her, an older and younger maid. With their presence, she felt emboldened enough to pass the tray over and to walk over to the shape. With a gasp, she recognized Bosun Toliver. "Bosun, are you well? Oh please, have you seen Lizzy?"

Groaning and coughing, Toliver rolled over onto his knees and tried to recover his senses. Catherine and the two maids gasped when the saw the second figure under him and saw his mangled face. Then they spotted the third, over to the side. "Bosun, what happened here?" Catherine demanded, trying to stir the man out of his stupor.

(Cough) "They war tryin' to take Miss Darcy. (cough, cough) Miss Elizabeth tried to stop'em." He exploded into a series of coughs that shook his whole frame. Catherine was torn between joy that Lizzy had escaped the fire and terror that someone had attacked them. Forgetting propriety, she patted the heaving back of the man who had protected her sister for years. She was desperate for more information, but couldn't make herself push the man.

The responsibility was taken out of her hands when her brother, cousin, Bingley, and Hurst rode up and, seeing her and Toliver, reared to a halt. Darcy was off and beside her in a moment, "What happened? How did the fire... Where are Elizabeth and Georgiana?"

Bosun Toliver managed to get his coughing under control enough to say, "They took'em. Three men I know of... mebe a lady."

"What!? How could you allow..."

"Cousin!" Colonel Fitzwilliam shouted to get his attention, "Look at him! Look at the two dead men. Your man didn't 'allow' anything. It had to be quite a fight. Now we need to focus on catching them. We didn't pass horse nor carriage, so they have to have gone in a different direction."

Darcy shook himself and turned to Catherine, "He's right. Please take care of Toliver. Find him a physician if you can. We're off." As quick as he dismounted, he was on his horse again and and the four men began riding. Bingley and Hurst hung back just long enough for Hurst to ask after his wife and for Bingley to express his thankfulness that his Catherine was alive and well.

The two men kneed their mounts into motion, but only got another hundred feet before yanking to a halt again, this time to avoid riding over the bound and prone form of Caroline Bingley.

oOo

Little eight year-old Jeremy Thomas clung for dear life as the carriage hurtled down the streets of London at speeds that should not be attepted. He wanted to use a hand to wipe the blood running down his face where the evil woman had his him, but he feared losing his grip. Instead, he gritted his teeth and held on. At the moment he couldn't think of a plan, but he would find a way to help Miss Georgiana and the Lady. He would also find a way to punish the man who had killed his friend the bosun.

He cringed a little as he heard the shrieking cackles from that crazy woman, even over the din of horse hooves and carriage wheels on the London road. All that he could do for now was pray for the ladies inside.

Georgiana had always been shy and retiring, except when among trusted friends and relatives. Now she was angry. Terrified, yes. Sickened by what she had witnessed, certainly. But she was also furious. That vile creature was cackling, laughing and mocking as her brother's beloved, the person she already loved as a sister, lay crumpled, possibly seriously injured, on the floor of this horrible carriage.

As Annabeth held the pistol pointed at that little tart, she taunted, "You, with all of your fancy dresses and big dowry... and now your brother... the Duke..." she practically spat the word in her disgust, "You tried to steal my George. You tried to take him from me... but it didn't work, did it? So then what does that..." she kicked Elizabeth's body, "that &%$ do? She tries to seduce him and then she HAS HIM HANGED!" Again she kicked Elizabeth. Annabeth descended in a moment into sobs as she cried, "My Geoge!"

Georgiana couldn't stand to see her sister kicked again, so she did the only thing she could think of, turning the mad woman's attention back on her. With a coldly calm voice "You are a fool, Mrs. Younge."

"DON'T CALL ME MRS. YOUNGE!" Annabeth snapped, jabbing the pistol at Georgiana, "I am Mrs. Annabeth Wickham! I have been married to my George since I was seventeen!"

Georgiana looked back at the woman in shocked disbelief, and then quietly said, "You were married to George Wickham?" Her voice began to rise as the full import of that revelation sank in, "You and George Wickham were married and you schemed to have him elope with me!? You disgusting... The pair of you deserved each other. Tell me, Mrs. Wickham, he dallied with two of our maids, with the cook there at our house in Ramsgate, and with more than my brother would allow me to know about. If he was your husband, then why couldn't you keep him at home? Just how many women did your husband seduce when he was married to you?"

"He loved me!" Annabeth yelled and, forgetting the pistol, lunged at Georgiana with two clawed hands.

Georgiana had grown taller, older, and stronger since the previous year. She caught the shorter woman's arms as she attacked, but the older woman was mad with rage and determined to inflict all of the pain she felt on the younger girl. What followed was a nightmare as Georgiana fought silently against a shrieking, cursing animal. For the first minutes she held the woman off, but she was slowly losing the battle and Annabeth's clawed, grasping hands were only inches from her neck.

Elizabeth grunted and coughed as a knee impacted her side. Disoriented and bruised all over, she tried to make sense of her surroundings through the throbbing in her head. She was in a carriage, the sounds of horses and wheels were unmistakable... but where? Why? She had been in Dover House... and then there was a fire... and Jeremy found her and begged for help... Bosun Toliver...

… and someone... no, several attacking Georgiana! Her mind snapped to the present and she heard a mad, shrieking voice saying, "I'll kill you! I hate you! All of you! You killed my George! Now you're going to die, little Miss Darcy!"

Georgiana used her last strength to push Annabeth back, but it only lasted for a moment and then the creature was across the cab and through her defenses, her hands wrapped around Georgiana's neck... and she couldn't breath... and...

Elizabeth was kicked in the scramble and she rolled over to protect her bruised ribs, but that caused a new pain as pressure on her leg... on her leg!

Georgiana's world was beginning to turn black. Her entire world now was the fingers on her throat and the mad cackling of Mrs. Younge... no... Mrs. Wick...

Annabeth grunted once, a grunt of shock and agony, and then her fingers were gone and Georgiana was sucking in great gasps of air, trying, but failing to understand. Arms surrounded her and, for a moment, she began to panic, but a soft, familiar voice soothed her and small, delicate hands petted her hair and held her tight. Elizabeth was so intent upon helping Georgiana that, for the moment, she could forget that she had just driven her knife into that crazy woman's back. She recalled Toliver's words when he taught her: If'n you 'ave to use that, than you use it. You don' wave it aroun'. You don' tell 'em yer gonna. If it be you or them, then make sure it be them.

"She won't hurt you anymore, Georgie. You're safe for now... but we won't be safe if we don't get out of this carriage. Can you move? Do you have any idea of who's driving? And is there were three. Are they all up top?"

Georgiana shuddered in memory, "There's only one... the really big man..." She rubbed her neck, her eyes haunted, "One was knocked out by the bosun. The other... he was trapped under the bosun... who was knocked out... and the big one..."

Elizabeth filled in the details in her own mind, squeezing Georgiana's hand and deliberately turning her sore body so that she could shield Georgiana's view of the body on the floor. After so many shocks in such a short time, it would be best if the girl didn't see the knife handle sticking out of her former assailant's back. "I understand. Say no more about it. I just hope that Bosun Toliver is all right... but, for now, we have to get out of this carriage."

Wilbur Wyatte heaved a sigh of relief when the shrieking and cackling finally ceased. As much as it worried him to be driving through the streets of London with that ruckus, he was questioning his alliance even more. That woman's fer Bedlam, fer sure. Best I get rid o' her quickly, afore she queers the deal any more. I can get my own ransom er' else I can sell the pretty little things... after ah'm done withum. He would take ample payment in pleasure after the beating he had taken at that other man's fists. Truly, if Crawford hadn't helped, he might have lost the fight.

He grinned, thinking about Crawford. It had done him good taking out his frustration on that lickspittle housebreaker. It made him feel better about his own beating... but now the rough roads were taking their toll on his aching ribs. The *&%$ must'a broken one or two.

He slowed the horses and turned the carriage down a side street, wanting to get off the main route. He was sure nobody saw them go, but it was better to be careful. He thought he heard something out of the ordinary, but his throbbing head and side was distracting him... but some instinct niggled at his mind... something about that sounds.

Elizabeth hit the road with a grunt, absorbing much of it with her legs but then sprawling out. Georgiana had dived out of the other door and her own grunt had a note of anguish that spurred Elizabeth to ignore her own pain and crawl over to her new sister. "Georgie... are you well?"

Georgiana blinked back tears, bit her lip, and bravely tried to shake her head positively, but the pain in her arm was too extreme. "I... I think it's broken."

Wyatte turned again... and heard the same sound. He looked down and back, cursing when he saw the door of the carriage flapping open and closed. Yanking the horses to a halt, he stood in his seat and looked back down the road to where he saw one figure crawling towards another, "Damn and blast!" The horses protested as he forced them to turn, somehow avoiding the narrowness of the road, and finally headed the carriage back toward the figures who were now attempting to stand."

Jeremy had been nodding off when he heard the doors. The pain in his head throbbing, He saw a figure falling onto the road and was sure that it was Miss Darcy... but his tired brain was slow to understand. Then the carriage jerked to a stop, slamming him into the back and forcing him fully awake. He heard the big man's deep voice cursing and suddenly the carriage was moving again, turning and bumping off and onto the road, narrowly missing the buildings on one side. The horses sped forward again, this time in the opposite direction, before once again slamming to a stop.

The boy heard the big man climbing down and knew that the ladies he had sworn to protect were in danger, but he had no more idea than before of how to stop the man. With arms numb from gripping too long, he climbed down himself, as quietly as he could.

Wyatte hopped the last two feet to the road, grimacing at the impact, then walked back to look inside the cab of the carriage. He grunted when he saw the knife handle stuck into his partner's back, then reached over and casually pulled the weapon out. With the blade still black and dripping in the night, he walked forward towards the two young women trying to stumble away from him. "Ya' did me a favor, ladies. Now I won' haf to do with the witch mysel'... but that don' mean ah'm done with you two."

Elizabeth pushed Georgiana on and turned to face the brute, "Then take me and leave Miss Darcy alone."

"Now don' be givin' no orders, Lady. Ah'm done wit takin' orders from wimin. Besides, I got yer pigsticker here," he held up the menacing instrument, "So ya got nothin' ta bargin wit."

"I am very rich, Mister...?"

"No Mister, jes' Wyatte. I know yer rich. An' I know that yer Duke is rich too. So its only fair that I get a little... but it'd be a shame to let two such fine ladies go without a bit o' fun, now wouldn't..."

His words halted when he heard a distinctive click behind him. Stiffening, he turned slowly, the knife ready. When he completed his turn, Wyatte couldn't help but laugh. Before him, not five feet away, stood a shaking little boy with a pistol in his hands... not a large dueling pistol, but one of those made to be concealed... or for ladies. That Younge... I should've killed her when... "That looks lak a predigious toy ya haf thar, little boy. Why don' you jes' give it over to..."

Wilbur Wyatte took a lunging step forward. Jeremy squeezed the trigger and the shot knocked him backward to sit on the road. The huge man just stood, stock still, as the red stain on his chest spread... and then his eyes slowly closed and he toppled forward.

It was another ten minutes before a harried Duke and his cousin, the Colonel, finally rode into view.

Oddly enough, it was only after the carriage rolled away with both the bodies and the corpses that the locals began to emerge fromtheir homes.

OooOOoOo

Doctor Lewis stepped out of Bosun Toliver's room to the expectant faces of half a dozen people. Some were walking wounded themselves, but only Georgiana was absent. Her arm was broken in two places and the splinting had been grueling. She now slept under a strong dose of laudanum. Lewis saw the impatience on all faces and said, "The man has the constitution of a bull. He will recover." He allowed everyone a moment for sighes and exclamations before continuing, "He has two broken ribs, a broken nose, and his right hand is quite swollen. Those will heal. His biggest danger now is his lungs. He had inhaled a great amount of smoke... and it will take a long time to recover. I suggest that your friend needs to go someplace restful, with fresh air. Perhaps someplace near the ocean, with him being a sailor and all."

He looked at Elizabeth, who should be in bed herself, and shook his head, "There is a high level of stubbornness in this house. You could all do with some time spent away from London, I fear... perhaps after the wedding?"

"And the boy?" the Duke asked.

"The boy took a mean knock on his head, but he should recover well. The mere fact that he took on such an adventure after such a blow speaks for itself. He will be fine..." He grinned more to himself than to the others, having been one of the few to hear the whole story, "... but you might want to find that young man a career with lots of challenge. He will never be fit to be a footman."

oOoOOoOo

In another neighborhood, in another respectable house, another doctor stepped out of another room to face only two people, a brother and sister, "She will recover... physically, Mr. Bingley, Lady Hurst. She was not violated... but she is also not rational. You may have complete faith in my confidentiality, but it would not be advisable for your staff to hear your sister talking. I've dosed her heavily with laudanum for now, but when she wakes..."

Mr. Bingley shook the doctor's hand. The good man bowed over Louisa's hand. Then, once he was gone, they looked at each other. In another moment Sir Hubert Hurst also stepped in. "This will have to be addressed with great delicacy. The Duke and Duchess..."

Charles Bingley closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. "Yes." He tried not to remember, but the scene came back to him anyway. When he and Hurst saw Caroline's bound and gagged body, they lept from their horses immediately. Charles had his coat off in a moment, covering his sister's embarrassment and shielding her from the biting cold.

He leaned over, scooping his sister into his arms and striding with purpose towards Archer House, with Hurst close on his heels. Louisa stepped out with a tray of food just as they approached. Quickly handing it over to another, she followed, quickly securing a room from the housekeeper.

Charles' only intention when he scooped her up was to get her out of the cold. Later he was grateful that it hadn't occurred to him to remove her gag. Louisa took on that task as soon as her brother laid her on the borrowed bed. While she fumbled with that knot, her brother and husband tackled the other ropes.

"Oh, thank God! I thought you'd never find me! Is she dead? Where's my Duke? Does he know where I am, Charles? Louisa, you have to hurry and help me clean up. I can't look like this when my Duke comes for me.

"Hush, dear, I think that you're having delusions," Louisa gently scolded, "You were just in a terrible situation. What you need is for a doctor to look at you and then you need sleep."

"Sleep!?" Caroline screeched, "I cannot sleep when my Duke is coming for me! Now that that country chit is dead and gone, he'll be over whatever spell she cast on him. He'll finally understand that I am the only one for him. Duchess Carlisle... oh, that sounds so wonderful!"

With horror, Charles asked, "Caroline... what makes you think that Lady Longbourn is dead?"

"Don't be annoying, brother! Of course she's dead! I gave a very clear and detailed description of Miss Eliza to that mad woman and her partners. I even told her where to find her. I can't be absolutely certain, but I would swear that that huge brute threw her dead body into the carriage when he threw me out. They grabbed Georgiana too, but she's been annoying lately anyway, so it is best that she no longer be a burden. Sad really. We might have married her off to somebody important and increased the family's consequence even more. I hope my Duke comes soon!"

Louisa borrowed a dress from Lady Archer. Charles tended to Caroline's cuts and abrasions, as best as he knew how. Hurst prowled outside the door and prevented others from entering. As soon as possible, the family made their escape with their protesting sister in tow.

Once she was secured in her room, Charles had ridden back to Archer House. Never was he more relieved than when he learned that both Elizabeth and Georgiana had been safely returned to their loved ones. He plastered on his best smile as he also received congratulations for the successful retrieval of his sister.

But as he prepared to return to his own home, he glanced up to where the lovely Miss Catherine watched him from a window... and he wondered what he was going to do.

© 2018

Note: If anyone is wondering why Elizabeth isn't more overwrought for having killed someone, the answer is that most people in such a situation either freeze or act. If the freeze, it can send them into shock then and there. If they act, then a numbness sets in and they tend to react later. For some, the mere fact that they don't feel bad is actually more haunting than anything else... no matter how terrifying the event.

I will also be criticized for how quickly everything resolved... but in my experience terrible events tend to happen quickly... and the memories can haunt for years. Don't worry, this story is not about PTSD. Let it just be understood that neither Elizabeth, Georgiana, nor Jeremy will easily forget the events of that night.