The Unforgettable Mr. Darcy

Darcy’s heart pounded so loudly he thought the gendarmes might hear. Rescuing Elizabeth from the Temple would be nigh impossible; he had to act now. Briefly he considered turning himself in, but Elizabeth might not be able to escape France without him—she might refuse to even make the attempt.

Still, he needed to find some way to prevent them from taking Elizabeth away.

In the growing twilight, Darcy darted up the front path to the street, a plan taking form in his mind. Fortunately, the street urchin he had passed earlier still lingered at the corner. Darcy jingled some coins in his pocket. “Would you like to earn some money?”

A few minutes later Darcy was back in position under the window, listening as Elizabeth and Adele tried their best to delay the process. “Elizabeth,” Adele asked, “do you have the handkerchiefs I purchased for you?”

“Oh! I failed to pack them.”

“I believe they may be in Marie’s room. I will fetch them for you.”

A gendarme growled, “She does not require a fresh supply of handkerchiefs. She is going to prison, not a tea party!”

“Do not be a brute!” Adele admonished.

“I hardly think—” The man broke off with an exasperated noise. “No more delay! You will accompany us now.”

“What will you do?” Adele challenged. “You will shoot an innocent woman because you cannot wait for her to gather a few handkerchiefs? Has France lost all semblance of civilization?”

There were several uneasy coughs from the other gendarmes. No doubt some were uncomfortable arresting a woman.

“Very well.” The lieutenant sighed.

Adele’s retreating footsteps sounded on the stairs. Darcy held his breath. Now would be an excellent time for a distraction.

“Lieutenant! Lieutenant Jardin!” Right on cue, the urchin’s voice sounded on the street.

“What do you want? What is it?” One of the gendarmes shouted at the boy through an open front window.

“Were you looking for that woman’s husband? He was approaching the house, but when he got close, he ducked down the Rue Marvel.”

“We can get him!” the lieutenant cried. “Go! Go!” Feet pounded across Adele’s floors, and the front door burst open. “Luc, you remain here with Madame Laurent,” the lieutenant said before the door slammed behind him.

Darcy had hoped they would abandon the house altogether. Using a convenient tree root as a footstool, Darcy peered through the open window. The sole remaining gendarme had his back to the window, looming over Elizabeth where she sat on the sofa. Anger sped Darcy’s heartbeat. Was such intimidation necessary?

Grasping the edge of the windowsill, Darcy managed to pull himself up without making any noise. As he sat in the window, he pulled out the pistol, tempted to shoot the man. But the gendarme was only following orders, and murdering an officer would compound their problems.

As silently as possible, Darcy crept toward the man’s back. Standing by the fireplace, Adele watched him with wide eyes but made no sound. Just as Darcy closed in on the man, a floorboard under his foot creaked. The man whirled around, but too late. The butt of the gun met the base of the man’s neck with a dull thud, and the gendarme crumpled in a heap on the floor.

“William!” Elizabeth stood in one motion and fell into Darcy’s arms, a warm and gratifying weight.

Adele hurried toward him. “Will! Thank God!”

Darcy embraced her quickly. “We must leave immediately. The gendarmes will not be distracted for long. By now the street urchin will have disappeared.”

Elizabeth nodded, handing him his knapsack. “I knew you would come.” She shrugged in reply to his surprised look.

Pistol at the ready, Darcy led the way through Adele’s back door, moving swiftly but warily past the garden and into the alley, now swathed in evening shadows. It appeared empty, but the darkness could hide anyone.

“They watch all the roads, Will!” Adele huffed as she rushed to follow him. “You cannot leave Paris now. We must conceal you in another location…”

Darcy’s stomach knotted with tension. The longer they remained in France, the greater the risk of discovery, but he saw no alternative.

“I had a thought,” Elizabeth said, her eyes bright as she looked up at him. “They are watching all the roads, but there must be another way to leave Paris. Perhaps the river?”

Adele’s mouth dropped open. “Of course!”

Darcy shook his head in wonder. “That is a magnificent idea, Elizabeth.” She blushed at his praise. He turned to Adele. “How often do boats go north?”