Page 63 of Undone

Colonel Fitzwilliam drew Darcy behind the shelter of a broad oak just as the horseman galloped past the cottage. They remained concealed while he rode beyond the house, circled back, then dismounted and disappeared inside.

Hidden amongst the bare winter shrubs, they had watched the chaise halt some distance from the cottage before the rider approached to inspect the premises. The December afternoon had grown steadily colder whilst they waited. A sharp wind swept across the open fields, carrying with it the damp chill of the Ashbourne hills. Darcy had long since ceased to feel his fingers despite his gloves, yet he scarcely noticed the discomfort now. Every thought was fixed upon the carriage standing motionless beyond the trees.

"I had wondered whether she would come," Darcy whispered.

"Of course she would," Richard replied quietly. "The letter we sent was convincing. If nothing else, she would come to satisfy herself that all was as Wickham claimed." He raised his head just enough to look beyond the hedge before lowering it again. "I confess, however, I had not expected her to be quite so cautious."

"Thank Heavens Colonel Forster advised against waiting inside with Wickham," Darcy said. "Had that fellow entered and discovered us there, he would undoubtedly have raised alarm by now to warn her, and she would have driven away before we had the opportunity to stop her."

Colonel Forster peered towards the cottage. "Let us hope Wickham does not lose his nerve and spoil everything from within."

"He will not," Richard answered. "A man like Wickham thinks first of his own preservation. He knows his only hope lies in us."

They had reached Ashbourne the previous day, taking every precaution not to betray their presence should Mrs. Vane have anyone watching the area. Mrs. Younge had told them the secluded cottage was one Mrs. Vane leased through an intermediary and where she had met Wickham on more than one occasion. She believed it the only place where Mrs. Vane would feel secure enough to come in person, and thus far her judgement had proved correct.

"He is coming out again," Colonel Fitzwilliam murmured.

The three men lowered themselves once more as the horseman emerged from the cottage, mounted, and rode back towards the waiting chaise. He dismounted beside it and climbed inside. Though they could not hear what was said, the exchange lasted but a minute before he stepped down again and spoke briefly to the coachman.

The carriage lurched into motion.

The short distance to the cottage felt an eternity to Darcy. His pulse quickened as the horses drew to a halt before the door. He scarcely breathed, straining to catch his first clear glimpse of its occupant.

The footman descended first before turning to offer his hand.

A lady emerged, wrapped in a dark grey travelling cloak, the hood drawn about her face against the bitter wind. A small reticule hung from one gloved hand as she stepped carefully to the ground. Even at that distance, there was something unmistakable in her bearing.

Without hesitation, she turned slightly, just enough for Darcy to catch a clear glimpse of her face before she followed the footman towards the cottage. The door opened, admitting them both before closing once more.

"That is her," Darcy whispered, his pulse quickening. "She is the same woman I encountered at the Kingsleys' gathering in Ashcombe."

Richard looked towards him. "You are certain?"

"I would know her again anywhere." Darcy's gaze remained fixed upon the closed door.

"Then God grant this ends today," Colonel Forster said quietly.

Darcy did not answer.

His attention remained upon the cottage. After months of searching, of unanswered questions and unseen enemies, the woman who had orchestrated so much misery had at last walked willingly into their trap.

Twenty-Six

Ashbourne

9th December, 1811

Darcy

"You will hand over the documents now, else..."

The voice carried clearly through the closed door. Darcy recognised it at once as Mrs. Vane's, though the gentleness she had displayed at the Kingsleys' gathering had vanished. There was authority in her tone now, and a coldness that called to mind the pleasant composure with which she had first spoken to him.

He stood beside the entrance while Colonel Fitzwilliam prepared to force the door, his pistol drawn as a precaution. Colonel Forster and the sergeant accompanying him had already subdued the coachmen outside, quietly and with remarkable efficiency. Much to Darcy's surprise, the fellows had scarcely known what was upon them before they were overpowered, bound, and gagged.

"I would see my payment before I hand them over," Wickham replied from within. His voice carried easily through the thin wooden door. "I have taken the greater risk, and I shall not be cheated of what was promised."

"You are in no position to make demands."