grossly mistaken regarding looking a fright. You are ravishing. Never more lovely than in the morning sun with hair loose and the flush of our lovemaking yet apparent on your skin.” He leaned in for a kiss, staying near her mouth. “I have watched you for the past twenty minutes, love abounding and desire rising. I need you my wife, always.”
He finished with a sigh, tenderly encompassing her mouth as he merged with her, two bodies now one. They made love again, the end to a perfect night and beginning of an eventful day.
“Will you please see this reaches Reniswahl Hall as soon as feasible?” Darcy asked the desk clerk, handing a folded parchment with the Darcy seal melted securely over the edge.
“Certainly, Mr. Darcy.” He motioned toward a page who rushed over.
Darcy waited patiently while instructions were given and then continued, “Mrs. Darcy and I will be away all day. Please ensure a tray of fresh fruit and drinking water is available in our room.”
“Of course, sir. If I may inquire, are you planning to enter the Sherwood Forest region? I only intrude as a warning. There have lately been reports of bandits in Nottinghamshire. That ilk always seems to believe the foolishness of the Robin Hood legends lend a credence to their nefarious activities.”
Darcy scowled. “Romantic ideals of thievery, although I doubt they share their spoils with the average citizens. Thank you for the warning; however, we will not be traveling that far east. Nonetheless, we shall be cautious. Good day.”
He joined his wife by the carriage, setting off for another excursion abroad. Samuel and Marguerite were freed for the day to ramble through the town and seek their own adventures. The weather was lovely, the sun shining brightly with the promise of sweltering heat in the late afternoon. Currently, though, there was a brisk, cooling breeze. The terrain due east of Chesterfield was identical to the landscape passed all the previous day. Endless rolling hills of green, generally crop covered with the scattered copse of trees and small stone farmhouses. Dotting the beauty were the increasingly frequent black-scarred rubbles of stone indicative of a coal mine.
“How far under the ground do the rails extend?” Lizzy asked curiously.
“Miles in some cases, I suppose. I confess to not being well educated on the inner workings of coal mining. The east Midlands is replete with coal. A wonderful blessing for England's economy but depressing for the locals. I envision this area gradually diverting from farms to mines as the years unfold.” He shook his head sadly. “The waves of industry and progress march on, Elizabeth.”
The eight miles to Bolsover displayed this odd mixture of lush scenery with interspersed mutilated holes. However, the closer they drew to the modest town on the hill, all else faded except the looming vision of Bolsover Castle. The massive keep, a true remnant of a long gone day of medieval knights and chivalry, sat on a prominent bluff as expected, and dominated the entire horizon. They drove up the curving incline to the castle, Darcy launching into his usual narrative.
“Another claim of the Cavendish family, love. The original medieval castle built during the Norman Conquest is essentially gone, but Lord Cavendish, who acquired the property in the seventeenth century, built his fanciful keep with the original in mind. Therefore, the walls have never withstood a siege, but it certainly looks as if it could!”
“Do any of the Cavendish family members dwell here?”
“Not any longer. All the furniture has been removed to Welbeck Abbey and a token staff inhabits to maintain, although the lack of constant upkeep is beginning to show. Lord Cavendish and the bulk of the family remain in Devonshire. The castle is more of a tourist attraction than a home, which is fortunate for us.” He smiled at his wife, leaning for a kiss before they disembarked on the wide lawn before the main entrance to the vast house.
Thereafter followed a three-hour, leisurely stroll about the estate grounds and tour of the castle public rooms. The recognition by the staff of the Darcy crest afforded them greater access than the general visiting public. They walked along the battlement walls, the views, across ostensibly the entire width and length of Derbyshire, absolutely breathtaking. It may not have been a functional castle as in the ancient stories, but the atmosphere was authentic. Lizzy honestly expected to see a shining steel encased knight gallop into the courtyard with lance and broadsword at the ready.
The interior was as all fine English manors: lavish and well apportioned. Richly painted murals famous for their depiction of romanticism and English Renaissance chivalry graced nearly every wall and ceiling. It was stupendous, if slightly overwhelming. The cavernous feel of the ostentatious rooms was especially noticeable without furnishings.
Lizzy and Darcy picnicked in solitude in one of the immense courtyards with a bubbling fountain of Venus centrally located. Resuming their journey, Darcy explained the next planned adventure. “I know how you love trees, so thought you would appreciate visiting Whitwell Wood. It is far and away the finest and most sweeping woodland in England, with some four hundred acres of ash, oak, beech, sycamore, and hazel trees predominantly. We can easily swing through the fringes as we veer west toward Eckington and Reniswahl Hall.”
The roughly six-mile drive was delightful. Leaving the coal mines mostly behind, they passed through areas rich in vegetation mingled with limestone buttes. The cool breeze of earlier in the day had long since dissipated, leaving a rising heat. Darcy opened the windows, aiding his wife with fanning as they left the tiny hamlet of Elmton and casually meandered through the barren countryside.
The carriage halted unexpectedly, a sharp rap on the roof indicating the driver's wish to converse with the occupant. Darcy frowned, leaning forward to the open window.
“Yes, Mr. Anders?”
“Sir, pardon the intrusion, but there appears to be an overturned wagon ahead. Should we stop to check it out?”
“Are there any people about?”
“Not that I can see from here, sir.”
Darcy thought for a moment, peering out the window at the empty landscape. “Approach slowly and be cautious. Halt if anyone is visibly hurt. Phillips, be alert and prepared.”
“Yes sir,” they echoed, the carriage moving forward slowly.
“Elizabeth, pull the shades on your side and stay back,” he commanded tensely, reaching to assure the doors were securely latched and to shut the window.
“Do you suspect something amiss, William?” she asked, voice strained.
He glanced over his shoulder with a quick smile. “I am sure it is nothing, love, but wisdom begs for caution.” He resumed his watchfulness to the outside, running a hand under the seat briefly. Eventually he glimpsed the aforementioned wagon lying upside down and partially in the road. Immediate bells rang in his head as there were neither horses nearby nor the expected cargo strewn about the ground. The region surrounding was rocky, with numerous trees thinly spaced on either side of the road, but relatively flat with narrow depressions and hollows. Nonetheless, the road was a well maintained one without ruts or ditches, no loose boulders on tall cliffs or other ready causes to overturn a wagon.
He sensed Lizzy closely behind him before she spoke. “Sit back!” he snapped, Lizzy obeying reflexively to his terse demand. Darcy patted her knee to ease his rudeness precisely as all hell broke loose outside.
Chapter Twenty-Six
A loud shout sounded from above and a gunshot crack rang out. The carriage stopped precipitously with a lurch as several voices erupted with yells. Lizzy released a startled squeal as Darcy's hand flashed under the seat. She gasped and eyes widened at the sight of the pistol he retrieved and hastily tucked into the waistband of his breeches at the small of his back. Eyes yet riveted to the window, he reached behind to squeeze her leg, jerking backward in reflex when a grizzled face abruptly appeared at the window.
Lizzy clutched frantically onto Darcy's arm, heart pounding crazily. The man outside brandished a pistol, gesturing for Darcy to exit the carriage. “Elizabeth,” Darcy's deceptively calm and icy voice commanded, “stay inside if you are allowed; otherwise, keep close and to my left side. Do not argue or resist and keep your eyes on me.”
She nodded, not that he could see her as his focus was on the angry man outside, who was now banging on
