The Journey (32 page)

I blinked, unsure of how to respond. “I fail to comprehend why you think his outcome is of such importance to me.”

“Have you not defended him time and again? Was it not your earnest desire that he be found innocent against the charge of murder?”

“Of course,” I said. “I do not want him to hang. But your statement makes it appear that you still believe I have an undue interest in the highwayman.”

He continued to stare into my eyes, pressed his lips together, and said nothing more.

“Mr. Darcy?”

“Good night, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, his voice weary and defeated. He bowed and walked out the door, followed by Mr. Bingley shortly thereafter.

Chapter Fourteen

Throughout the weekend, I fretted and worried about Mr. Darcy’s comments. Surely, he did not still believe I cared for Morgan!

Had I not assured him when questioned in the cave that I felt nothing more than sympathy for his injury and pity for his unfortunate upbringing? I recalled having said something akin to the fact that my heart would
not
suffer if he did not survive the gunshot wound. I could never care for a highwayman. What would make Mr. Darcy yet think I might harbour stronger feelings for Morgan?

It was most perplexing and occupied many of my waking thoughts. I even questioned Mr. Bingley during one of his daily calls as to whether he thought his friend might be suffering from fatigue after the exceedingly strenuous week he had undergone.

“Darcy did seem tired Friday evening when we left here, but I saw him at our club this morning, and he appeared himself — perhaps a bit quieter than usual, but my friend is never verbose.”

“Shall we have the pleasure of his company today?” Jane asked, knowing I wished to have the answer.

“He mentioned something about an invitation to Lady Jersey’s house tonight, although I do not know whether he has decided to attend. I believe Miss Templeton is leaving tomorrow, and there is to be a farewell dinner for her. I know Caroline and Louisa were thrilled to receive their invitations.”

I rose from where I had been sitting on the divan beside Kitty. I could feel pinpricks of jealousy jab at my heart. Walking to the pianoforte, I ran my fingers down the keys.

“Shall you play for us, Miss Elizabeth?” Mr. Bingley asked.

“Oh, yes, do,” my aunt responded.

“I am far too uneasy to apply myself,” I answered. “I feel as though I am the pet in the proverb —
Care killed the cat
.”

Mary promptly offered to take my place at the instrument, and I moved aside.

“Lizzy, you have been forced to keep indoors far too long,” my aunt responded. “I shall speak to Mr. Gardiner and see if there is not some way he can think of to grant you some relief.”

I smiled slightly, assured her that it was not necessary, and then returned to Jane’s side. “Mr. Bingley, shall you attend Miss Templeton’s dinner tonight?”

“No, I have not the slightest desire to do so. I would much rather remain here — that is, if you do not object, Mrs. Gardiner.”

My aunt shook her head, and Jane blushed. Kitty giggled and I nudged her with my elbow. Thank goodness Mamá was not in attendance, for she surely would have replied in a manner that would have embarrassed Jane even more. Mamá had gone with my father to call on a friend of Sir William Lucas, having promised him they would not forget to pay their respects while in Town.

I cleared my throat and addressed myself to Mr. Bingley once more. “I assume Miss Templeton’s absence will be greatly missed in London society and especially by Mr. Darcy, if one can believe the newspapers.”

He looked slightly confused. “I — I am afraid I do not understand your meaning. Yes, London will miss the lady, but Darcy has never mentioned any particular attachment to her.”

“Ah, well, I should know by now how often the newspapers print false information.”

I attempted to speak casually, as though it were mere gossip we discussed. In truth, I could have kissed Mr. Bingley for saying what he did!

* * *

On Monday afternoon, my uncle returned home early. The first words from his mouth were that the sentences for the highwaymen had been delivered. A special crier from the newspaper office had run through the streets announcing, “Public hanging! Public hanging! All four highwaymen will hang!”

I was shocked! It seemed beyond belief that someone would die for something they had done to me. True, I had been kidnapped, threatened, held against my will, and one of the men attempted to assault me, but still I could not fathom taking their lives in payment. I was now safe, in good health, perfectly well. Why should someone have to die?

My uncle attempted to explain that society could not tolerate criminals attacking citizens on the public roadways. People must be allowed to travel with peace of mind, unafraid of roving bands of lawless men. I understood and appreciated that truth. Still, I could not find Morgan’s band of men guilty of crimes deserving death. I saw the need for them to be made examples to deter similar thieves from perpetrating like crimes, and yet, I wished with all my heart that none of them would die, not even Sneyd.

“Lizzy, you are too tender-hearted,” my uncle said as he rose and patted my shoulder. “I leave her in your hands, Thomas. I do not know how else I may reassure her.” He left his study, and my father took his place, seating himself beside me near the window.

“My dear,” he said, “you must not take this to heart. You had nothing to do with the outcome. It is the law.”

“But I did, Father,” I cried. “How can I separate myself from what has happened? If not for me, they might not die.”

“You forget you are not the only victim, Lizzy. Mr. Darcy was robbed and kidnapped, assaulted and threatened. Although they were not kidnapped, Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley received similar treatment and were held against their will, as well as Mr. Bingley’s servants. Whether you were involved or not, Morgan and his cohorts would most likely receive the same harsh sentences.”

He put his arm around me and patted my shoulder. “I pray you, dearest, do not suffer any more. What is done is done. Those men must pay for their crimes.”

I nodded as though I agreed, but I quickly left the room and ran to the sanctuary of my chamber where I spent the remainder of the evening. I could not even join my family for dinner, such was my regret.

How I wished I might speak to Mr. Darcy! Surely, he could do something to change the outcome. But how could I ask him? I knew he had done more than called for to save Morgan from the gallows, and now it appeared even he had failed.

I recall little else of what happened between Monday and Thursday of that week. My thoughts were so cast down that I still cannot think of that time without distress. I am certain my family did what they could to attempt to lift my spirits, but all I can remember was a dark, dark place in which I dwelt and from which I longed to be freed.

If only there were not the dinner in Jane’s honour at Mr. and Mrs. Hurst’s on Thursday, we could have left London for home. I had begged my father until he agreed that we would depart first thing Saturday morning. Until that time, I kept to my uncle’s house and mainly to my room.

On Thursday, my mother insisted that Jane, Mary, and Kitty accompany her on a shopping excursion. She had a great desire to visit one last warehouse to narrow her search for the perfect lace for Jane’s bridal veil. Fifteen different swatches now resided in her collection, but she was adamant that one more — the perfect one — still awaited her, and nothing would do but that my sisters assist in its discovery.

My aunt had a number of calls she needed to make. My father had taken himself off to his favourite booksellers, and so that left me alone with nothing to do and no one to visit.

“Lizzy,” my uncle called to me, as he picked up his hat and cane. “Shall you stay here all alone today?”

I sat at the window in the front parlour, watching the carriages pass without. “Yes, Uncle,” I replied. “Just the children and me.”

“The older ones are at their studies with the governess. And are not the little ones down for their morning naps? Then what shall you do by yourself all day?”

“I have nothing in particular planned,” I answered, rising to see what he proposed.

“Why not come with me?”

“With you, Uncle? To your office?”

“I am not going to the office this morning, but to the warehouses at the docks. Would you not like an excursion down to the water’s edge?”

“Yes, I would, but I thought it better for me to stay indoors.”

“You have been inside far too long. Why, you have lost the very bloom from your cheeks. There is no one who will recognize you where I am going. Come along with me, and view a different prospect for a change. It will do you good, Lizzy.”

I readily agreed and quickly put on my coat and bonnet. It was a rare beautiful day in January. The fog had lifted, and the sun now shone brightly, warming the chill blown in by a light wind. I could not believe how just leaving the house caused my spirits to rise. I watched the sights we passed as eagerly as a starving person gobbled up his only meal.

My uncle’s carriage travelled a great distance from the house down through a part of Town I had never seen before. Soon we arrived within sight of the water, and I marvelled at the great number of ships waiting for the limited number of docks. An array of warehouses lined the street, and my uncle pointed out the particular one where his business awaited him.

He assisted me from the carriage and told me I might wander along the edge of the water and watch the workers load and unload the great ships. He warned me how far I might go and alerted his manservant to keep an eye on me. I agreed to his limitations and was perfectly content to remain on the walkway, pleased to watch the busy workers below.

I opened my parasol, as the sun was now directly overhead, and eventually I grew tired of standing in one place. I made my way down the incline a little closer to the water and watched with interest as one or two passengers carrying valises began to board a large ship out in the harbour. It seemed strange to me that people would attempt a sea journey at that time of year. I stood there but a short while when I was shocked to hear someone call my name.

“Miss Elizabeth?”

I turned to look straight into the sun’s glare and had to shade my eyes. I could not make out who it was that had spoken to me. “Sir?” I asked.

“Do you not know me?”

The man took a few steps and walked into the shade where I could see his face. I could not believe my eyes, for it was Morgan!

Dressed in his customary black, his blonde curls blowing gently in the breeze, he appeared much the same as he ever did, but for the absence of the jaunty dark hat and feather in its band. That day he wore a simple black cap, much like those of the workers loading the ship. His hair had grown longer and now covered his collar. Perhaps a bit thinner, he appeared to have recovered from his wound.

He stood on the other side of a long rope stretched across the walk, separating those who boarded the ship from those on shore. I was astounded to see him and stood there, my mouth agape.

“It’s me, Nate Morgan!”

“What — how — ” I could not form a sentence.

“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost,” he cried. “Take my hand. You’ll see I’m real!” He reached for my hand, but I snatched it away.

“I — I do not understand. How do you come to be here, of all places?”

“I’m bound for America!” he cried. “With Gert — we’re sailing for the colonies.”

“America! But how? I thought you were to be — ”

“Hanged? ’Twas ’til a day ago.”

“But how did you — what happened?”

“Transported! My sentence is to be transported. Me and all the boys, that is.”

“You are all going to the colonies?” I asked, unbelievingly.

“No, Sneyd, Merle, and Rufus are meant for Australia. They’re forced to wallow in Newgate ’til the end of May, but when Darcy offered Gert and me the chance to board this ship to America leaving today, we jumped at it. Rough time of year to sail, but we’ll take our chances. We’ve been gamblers all our lives. No need to change now.”

I blinked several times and shook my head, unable to take it all in. “Mr. Darcy? What — what did he have to do with this?”

“He’s the one that got our sentences commuted,” he said with a smile. “’Tis hard for me to speak well about any gentleman, but I’m bound to give him his due. If he hadn’t paid for our passage, we’d still be waiting ’til the end of spring, and we’d be sailing to Australia in the same ship with Sneyd. I suppose Darcy persuaded the judge that wouldn’t make for smooth passage, having the two of us holed up in close quarters for that long a time.”

A warm sensation began in my breast. Mr. Darcy had done this. Mr. Darcy had kept Morgan and his gang from hanging. He had paid for the highwayman and his sister to have a new life. If I had esteemed him before, it did not compare with the admiration and respect I felt for him now. He truly was the best man I had ever known!

“I am happy for you,” I said. “You owe Mr. Darcy a great debt of gratitude.”

Morgan smiled and looked down. “Don’t remind me, Miss. Obligation doesn’t set well with me. It takes some getting used to. But what about you, Miss Elizabeth? I heard you were not to marry. Can’t be true, can it? From what I saw, I thought you and he, well — ”