Page 2 of Saved By Mr. Darcy
In the distance, he heard the thunder of the deer running from one side of the estate to the next. It was always a sight to see, but he held back. His horse was not easily spooked, but it was not wise to purposely lead an animal towards a stampeding herd. He listened, waiting for the animals to pass into the estate. Instead, he heard the most dreadful sound imaginable.
The roar of distressed horses, the screech of wheels, screaming, all echoed to him from the trees ahead. Darcy rode on, his horse’s hooves hammering against the earth as he rode towards the sound. The racing of his own blood pounded through him,his heart thumping hard as he looked for the source of the commotion, not knowing what awaited him.
He reached the accident, so fresh that the wheel of the upturned carriage still spun pointlessly in the air. A man on the floor, his uniform indicating that he had been the driver. His position was unnatural, his body twisted and broken even to Darcy’s untrained eye. Luggage was strewn around, but there was no sign of anyone else. Even the horses were gone, their snapped and tattered reins the only evidence they had been there in the first place.
“Is anyone alive?” he heard his own voice tremble, for he was certain that the man was dead. His neck was twisted in a way that was incompatible with life, and he felt his stomach roil. He jumped down from his horse. “I will fetch help. Can anyone hear me?”
“Help us,” a voice came from the bushes. “There...there are...Madeline…Lizzy.”
Darcy followed the voice, finding a man lying in the bushes. His forehead was bleeding, but his eyes were open and his arm moving in a gesture to his left.
“Easy, sir, easy. I will see you right. How many are in your party?”
“Me…four more,” the man said, heaving with the effort of speaking a single word. He coughed and spluttered, crying out in pain. “Please! Please!”
Darcy looked around; he saw the corpse of the driver, and as he turned, he saw another male form. He couldn’t tell from such a distance, but the man was perfectly still and deathly silent. That was a poor sign; such a terrible accident would leave anyconscious man screaming in pain. He signalled to his footman to go and see to the wretched souls.
“I see two men over there. There are two more?”
“My...my wife. And my...my niece.”
At this, the man became distressed, his words dissolving into a string of whimpers as the pain worsened. Darcy looked away, scanning the area for any signs of the ladies the man spoke of. He could not see anyone. They must still be within the carriage.
“I will find the ladies. Stay there, stay still.”
Walking closer to the twisted wreck, Darcy inhaled deeply. The vehicle had veered off the path, tipping onto its side and sliding into the ditch. It had been stopped by a cluster of trees, wedging the debris into place and keeping the wreckage in one piece - however splintered and damaged that piece might be. Cautiously, he edged closer.
“Take the horse,” he called out to his footman, who had been travelling alongside the luggage behind him. “Go to the house and alert the staff. We need a doctor, and as many men as can be found. We will need a cart, and something to lie them on. An axe, too, for the carriage. Anything they can bring that can be used to carry them to safety. Quick, man!”
He did not turn from the scene, his eyes searching the wreckage for the missing women. Somewhere behind him, his footman was readying to go. The thunder of hooves told him the man had gone, and Darcy only hoped the rescue party would not take too long to arrive.
The driver cleared his throat.
“What can I do, sir?”
“See to the man over there. Keep him talking, whatever you do.”
Darcy stared at the upturned carriage, before climbing on the axle of the wheel until he was on top. The door to the carriage was closed, and he pulled on it sharply. He felt the carriage wobble beneath him, and he braced himself to fall. But he did not fall, and with some more sharp persuasion, he wrenched the door free. Leaning forward, he peered down into the dark cavern of the carriage.
“Is anyone in there?”
“Help us,” a weak female voice came from the wreckage. “Lizzy is...I think she might be dead. Where is my husband?”
“Your husband was thrown from the carriage. He is awake, and told me of your whereabouts. He is well, madam. Are you injured?”
“Just my head, I think. I believe…I believe that I could stand, but I cannot leave Lizzy. She is not moving.”
“I cannot turn the carriage over with you both inside. My man is bringing an axe, and we will free you as soon as we can. Is she breathing?”
“I...” he heard the gentle scuffle of movement from inside. “Oh, thank heavens! Yes, yes, she is breathing. I can feel her chest. Lizzy! Lizzy, dear, wake up.”
“What is your name?” Darcy asked.
“Madeline Gardiner. My husband is Edward. My niece, Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Elizabeth… Elizabeth Bennet…of Longbourn?” he asked, closing his eyes tightly and praying that there were a hundred thousand Elizabeth Bennets in England.
What would his Elizabeth (though she would never be his) be doing in Derbyshire? Such a thing would be too great a coincidence, for as far as he knew she had no connection at all with the county. No, this could not be. God would not be so cruel as to bring Elizabeth Bennet onto his land, only to cause her unimaginable harm.
