Page 93 of Cousin Conundrum

Kitty winced.

He dropped his gaze from hers, turned her hands over, and issued another low oath. “This will need to be tended.”

“Send for Mr. Jones,” Mr. Darcy barked, loud enough to make Kitty start.

Mr. Fletcher cast an admonishing look over his shoulder, then turned back to Kitty. “Now, where are your sisters? And Mr. Bingley’s?”

“Where is Mr. Bingley?” Kitty murmured, then shook her head. She cared not. They must save Jane and Elizabeth, and Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst.

“He needed a moment. He is quite…distraught.”

Kitty nodded and drew in a deep breath. “The Archer women took them to Mr. Walters’ farm. Anyone can show you the way. It is not far by horse. I think they have the farmer and his wife, and the children, captive, because they sent out his son to keep watch, but I know Johnny Walters and he is definitely more worried about what is happening inside the house than outside. And…and they have pistols.”

Mr. Fletcher dipped his head to acknowledge that. “So there is a farmer, his wife, and how many children?”

“Five, including Johnny. He is fourteen. The girls are ten and eight, and there are two little boys, five and two.” Kitty clutched Mr. Fletcher’s hand with her unscathed one. “Please try not to let anything happen to them, or to my sisters, and Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst.”

“We will do our very best.” He stood, pulling his hand free, and turned from her to begin issuing orders.

Kitty nodded again, slumping back against the cushions. Her head spun. Her legs ached and her feet and hand stung. She still didn’t feel as if she had all her breath back.

Suddenly, Mr. Fletcher was back, catching up her unharmed hand. Kitty pried her eyes open, uncertain when she’d closed them. A glance showed the room empty of all but them.

“Tea and Mr. Jones are on the way, and a bath is being drawn.” He smiled at her, his green eyes gleaming in the firelight. “I need to go, but when you are able, I would greatly enjoy learning how you escaped them.” He lightly squeezed her hand. “You did well, Miss Kitty Bennet.”

Kitty found she wasn’t so exhausted she couldn’t smile. “It is no great tale, Mr. Fletcher. All I did was hide in the wardrobe. Only, unlike you, I definitely got a good look at Cat Archer.”

He gave her hand another squeeze and stood, his gaze not leaving hers until he reached the door. Kitty stared at the empty doorway for a long time after he disappeared, wondering if he’d thought any more about the notion of having a wife who had a vocation and an income of her own.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Darcy crouched beside Fletcher, peering through the trees at the Walters’ farmhouse. As Miss Kitty warned them, the farmer’s eldest lad walked in slow circles around the house, darting looks to his left and right. An owl hooted and the boy jumped in fear, spun, stood still for a long moment, and then resumed his track around to the far side.

Fletcher nudged Darcy, then nodded to their right. Darcy followed as the younger man led the way through the trees until they had a good view of the east side of the house. More rough stone wall met their gaze, but without a front porch or shutters on the windows. Darcy reflected that should they all escape unscathed, he should supply the Walters with shutters for the sides and back of their house. Not that he bemoaned the lack now.

Pointing, Fletcher whispered, “With a boost, I could reach that upper window. If I dropped down a rope, could you climb up?”

Darcy studied the uneven stone. He might be able to scale the house even without a rope. He and Richard used to climb all over the cotters’ sheds and barns. But he’d been a mere lad at the time. Still, he nodded.

Fletcher motioned right again, and they continued their perusal of the house. Dim light shone from the other windows on the upper floor, whether from a shielded candle or spilling up the stairwell, Darcy couldn’t say. The steepled attic appeared completely dark.

A back porch stood beneath two inviting upper windows, but the silhouette against what was likely to be a kitchen curtain, a slim part down the center to allow someone to peer out, spoke of the danger of attempting to enter that way. After a moment studying that side of the house, they moved on.

By the time they circled the entire structure and started back to where Hurst and Sir William waited with the bulk of the men, moving slowly because the moonlight that illuminated the farmhouse didn’t reach very far beneath the trees, Darcy concluded that the first window Fletcher pointed out was the best way in.

“I still say we should wait until reinforcements arrive from London,” Fletcher said quietly as they sought where they’d left the men of Meryton, Netherfield Park, and Longbourn, for Fletcher had insisted on informing Mr. Bennet of Elizabeth and Miss Bennet’s abduction.

He’d also summoned Mrs. Bennet and her remaining two daughters, both to care for Miss Kitty and to be ready to care for Elizabeth and Miss Bennet. Darcy had vehemently opposed that idea, arguing that Mrs. Bennet and Miss Lydia would only create chaos, but Fletcher insisted. Darcy still disagreed with the choice, but at least Mrs. Bennet’s arrival at Netherfield Park increased the number of men who volunteered to come with them. No one wanted to be in range of her wailing.

Except, apparently, Mr. Bennet and Bingley. Mr. Bennet, as he seemed disinclined to venture out into the dark in an attempt to rescue his daughters, which greatly lowered Darcy’s opinion of the man. Bingley because he seemed incapable of doing anything other than sitting in a chair, hands clutched to his head as if his brains attempted to spill out his ears, and muttering. Darcy had never seen Bingley in a crisis before and he couldn’t say he was impressed with his friend’s fortitude. Miss Bennet and Bingley’s sisters required saving, not blubbering into a tumbler of scotch. Then, in what state would Darcy be if the villains had Georgiana in addition to Elizabeth? He counted it a great fortune that he need not find out.

To Fletcher, Darcy reiterated his and Hurst’s argument of earlier. “No urgent help arrived from London today and we cannot know when they will set out tomorrow. The ladies cannot be left in the clutches of the Archers any longer than necessary.”

“Half the men we brought with us are foxed,” Fletcher muttered.

“Whose fault is that?”

“I was trying to be generous. They assisted our search. Ale was the least I could offer.”