When they reached the horse, Darcy sawed free Philip’s bindings and untied the gag. “Go,” he whispered.
“Take the second fork. I will lead them away,” Philip said, jumping to his feet and stamping them as he shook his wrists.
Darcy did not much care what Philip did so long as he provided a distraction. On horseback, Elizabeth and Darcy could make much better time and hopefully outpace the brigands. If they had a good enough start.
“I see tracks!” someone shouted.
“Stay down,” Philip whispered. Before Darcy could argue, Philip darted out between the trees. Darcy pulled Elizabeth towards the horse, but Elizabeth pulled him back.
Darcy whispered, “He has no reason to help us.”
“He could have called out when you freed him,” Elizabeth said.
Thirty seconds later, Philip’s voice. “There, Ambrose’s tent! She’s running!”
Another shout and confusion. Darcy and Elizabeth darted to the horse, mounted, and galloped off.
A gunshot sounded.
Elizabeth tensed.
More shouting, barely heard over the pounding of the horse’s hooves. Darcy hoped they had not shot at Philip. The man had helped them, though it would have been easier for him to let the others catch Elizabeth and Darcy. Whatever crime he had committed, the debt between them was cleared, and Darcy hoped the brigand survived to take on honest work.
Darcy hugged Elizabeth to him as the horse, sides heaving, galloped blindly down the path they’d come.
They missed the second fork. In the darkness, it was a mad dash, and all Darcy managed was to keep himself and his fiancé atop their mount as they gave the gelding its head.
Eventually, the horse tired. They slowed, trotting down a deer path. Darcy looked for anything to show where they were or some sign of another village. They trotted along for the better part of an hour with no signs of civilization, only woods and more woods.
Eventually, the foliage grew so thick, it blocked the half-moon’s glow, and Darcy dismounted to lead the horse by hand. There had been silence behind them for some time, so Darcy was reasonably sure that the brigands had been too far behind to follow.
The trees finally opened on a small glade, and at the other edge was a ramshackle cottage that appeared to have seen many years of inattentiveness and weather. It was small, more than a lean-to but less than a house.
With a sigh, Darcy declared: “We are lost.”
“Yes.”
“I apologize. This is not much of a rescue.”
“It is a perfect rescue.” Elizabeth looked around her. “Or nearly perfect. Perhaps we ought to have asked directions of that pack of squirrels we passed at the fork?”
“Miss Elizabeth!”
Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled. “But does he listen to me? No! Why, there is a perfect candidate just there! He flicked his tail to the left.”
“He flicked his tail at nothing.” Darcy chuckled. “Woman, you vex me with your nagging about the superior navigational ability of rodents with bushy tails. And in the middle of the night, no less!”
“A good husband always listens to his wife.”
“I did not see such written in the Book of Common Prayer.”
“Not all laws are written in the Book of Common Prayer.”
“Ah.”
“I suppose this will have to do for the evening.” Elizabeth called out. “Is anyone there?”
“Ssssh!”
“We are far from any brigands,” Elizabeth said. “Now help me down.”
Darcy, shaking his head, flexed his shoulder blades and helped her down off the horse. “You are right. About shelter, if not squirrels. Let us stay the night. I will stand guard in case we have to hastily retreat into the forest again.”
“Since, we can hardly see where we are going, the robbers are equally disadvantaged, would you not agree?”
“It is a logical conclusion; however, I will keep watch in case they do not subscribe to logic in night-time pursuits. I also suspect that by tomorrow when we wake, this forest will be crawling with villagers at the constable and my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam’s behest.”
“Then we should see what this little cottage has by way of creature comforts for a short stay.” Elizabeth stepped forward, but Darcy stayed her hand on the doorknob.
“Let me go first, in case there are other occupants inside.”
Elizabeth froze. Her voice cracked as she asked, “Like the squirrels who tried to give you directions?”
At that moment, Darcy realized the terror his wife’s bravado hid. Darcy put his hand atop hers. “You are safe,” he said. “I will always make certain that you are safe.”
“Until death do us part?”
“And beyond.”
Elizabeth nodded, and a silence followed, broken only by the hooting of a faraway owl and scurrying of squirrels or whatever other creatures the woods housed.
Darcy opened the door and went inside. After a brief exploration, he called out, “Seems all clear. No squirrels or other vermin.”
“Squirrels are not vermin!” Elizabeth quipped, stepping inside. Her voice held more confidence than before, which gratified Darcy. He hated to see his future wife afraid.
“One may ask a squirrel for directions,” Darcy conceded, “but I draw the line at inviting them inside for tea.”
Elizabeth giggled.
Darcy said, “Now come inside. I will not have my future wife curling up at night with the squirrels.”