The Journey Read Online Free

toward the man in black, and with one swift move, lifted me up onto the horse. The rider pushed my bonnet back and peered closely at me, his rough hands gripping my waist. I could feel the cold steel of the pistol rub against my side. Fear petrified me! I tried to hold myself away from him, but he persisted in pulling me close.
    “You’re right, Sneyd. This lass is worth the trouble.”
    “I can tell you right now,” Mr. Darcy said, his voice strong even though he struggled to stand after having the air punched out of him, “that if you harm her in any way, you will not receive a farthing from my uncle.”
    Each of the robbers stopped, Sneyd jerking around as he turned to face Mr. Darcy.
    “And why is that?” the ruffian holding me asked. “What possible difference would it make to his lordship what happens to this little country miss?”
    “Because she is not some little country miss. She . . . she is my wife.”
    My eyes widened, and once again, I forgot to breathe. I heard audible gasps from both of Mr. Bingley’s sisters from inside the carriage, but I prayed the highwaymen would pay them no mind.
    “Your wife?” the leader said in disbelief. “You would have us believe your wife dresses in plain garb, and yet you say you’re rich?”
    I saw Mr. Darcy swallow and wet his lips as if he needed time to think of an answer.
    “I . . . I dress simply when I travel,” I said quickly, “precisely because of creatures like you.” My voice shook, and my hands trembled, but I held my chin up and looked him directly in the eye. “That is why I do not wear jewels on the road. I — that is, we have been robbed before.”
    The men looked at each other, and it was evident that they doubted what we said. Mr. Darcy spoke once again. “I can assure you that my wife is a favourite of the Earl of Matlock and my entire family. They might conceivably consider foregoing my ransom, but they would pay any amount you ask for my wife’s freedom if — and only if — she is unharmed.”
    The three masked men looked to the man called Morgan, who turned his eyes first upon me and then Mr. Darcy.
    “Put him on one of the carriage horses, but you keep the reins in your hands, Sneyd. And you, Mister Darcy, don’t even think of trying anything, or I’ll cut her throat — ransom or no ransom.”

Chapter Two
    I wondered how the highwaymen would abscond with us in daylight, knowing that the road to London was well travelled. I never dreamed they would lead us through thickets, hedgerows, woods, and forests deep enough that no one could find us.
    As we fled, my mind darted frantically from thought to thought, wondering how Mr. Darcy and I might ever escape this predicament. Surely, when our carriage did not reach Town, someone would come looking for us. My aunt and uncle were expecting me, and Mr. Darcy’s sister awaited his arrival.
    We had ridden for some time by then, and I wondered whether Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst had been rescued yet. The robbers had pushed the carriage minus its horses into a wooded area. They gagged and bound the hands and feet of the ladies, the driver and footmen, forced all of them into the carriage, and tied the doors shut.
    I could not imagine the indignity Mr. Bingley’s sisters felt, trapped in such close quarters with common servants, but that thought shamed me. I should not have mocked them, for were we not all in desperate straits and Mr. Darcy and I in the worst of them?
    Just then, I felt the leader remove his hand from my waist. He signalled for all the horsemen to stop while he motioned to the man called Merle to go on ahead. No one said a word. Shifting slightly, I attempted to adjust my seating, as pain from the prolonged ride radiated down my back and into my legs.
    I took the opportunity to glance back at Mr. Darcy and saw his eyes upon me, a fierce scowl across his face. He had been forced to ride bareback on one of the carriage horses, his hands tied behind him the entire journey. I