Love Among the Gifted - A Pride & Prejudice Alternative

Chapter Eleven

Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy approached the supposed hideout of the highwayman known as Black Tom Tolland. The area contained patches of overgrown fields and stands of trees and shrubs. There was a derelict cart path leading to the abandoned cottage. The two investigators had taken a position almost a hundred yards from the hovel and were watching for signs of illicit habitation. They had landed some distance away and had made their way through brush and shadow to avoid premature detection.

"Can you ... sense anything?" Mr. Darcy's tone hinted at his disgust of her animalistic abilities.

Elizabeth inhaled the local aromas with a deep breath. She could detect the normal scents of a semi-wilderness in November. But she also found traces of wood smoke, charred meat, human fear, and an unfamiliar astringent scent. Her nose twitched as she sensed the familiar, but nauseating, stench of rotten eggs. She shivered in revulsion.

Mr. Darcy started to speak, but she held up her hand peremptorily to still him. She focused on her hearing, sifting through the natural noises to find something out of place. The sounds of muffled voices and the clatter of dishes could be heard coming from the cabin.

"They are there," she said. "At least two. One man, one woman. Maybe more. I am not certain they are all there of their own volition. There is also something I have never encountered before; a sharp, almost chemical, smell. But is it intermixed with, almost overpowered by, a sulfurous scent - possibly rotten eggs."

"I have heard that Black Tom is named so because his skin is like burnt rubber. Perhaps that is the smell?"

"It may be." She looked at her companion. "Have you a suggestion for how we should proceed? If there are prisoners or hostages in the cottage, we cannot risk a frontal assault."

Mr. Darcy peered towards the building. Elizabeth once again noticed a subtle shimmering in front of his eyes. "I see hints of movement inside."

She took a closer look and saw that there was motion detectible though the spaces left around the ill-fitting door and shutters. She could not make out how many there were in the cottage, but more than one was evident. "Still cannot be certain of the number or nature of those present."

"Perhaps a more direct approach is called for. I can call out the blackguard. If you are in position to flank them should they all prove hostile, I believe we can prevail in a direct confrontation." Elizabeth was surprised he would trust her even with a support role, then realized it was likely his own self-assurance that he could vanquish any possible opposition at play, and he simply wanted her out of the way.

"Very well. I shall position myself in those trees." She pointed to a copse of tall beeches that only began to branch out high above the ground. From there she would be hidden out of their immediate line of sight, yet still within range to affect the humors of any coming out of the cottage. Mr. Darcy nodded, and Elizabeth crept though the underbrush until she reached the base of the tallest tree. She scampered up it, in what she was certain Mr. Darcy would see as a most unladylike manner. Once she signaled she was in place, her companion strode openly towards the cottage, a faint shield shimmering in front of him. When he was thirty yards from the shack, he stopped and gestured. A fallen branch flew from the ground and crashed into the door.

A sharp shriek sounded from within the cottage, followed by a slap of flesh striking flesh. The door slammed open and in it was one of the most frightening men Elizabeth had ever seen. He was so tall he had to stoop almost double when he stepped through the portal. His skin was as black and shiny as wet pitch. His head was topped with ram's horns and red fangs protruded from his snarling lips. His naked muscular torso sported four brawny arms. He was a true grotesque.