Page 4 of Dishonorable Gentlemen (Bennet Gang #1)

Sneaking

Elizabeth whirled at her sister’s cry of alarm. A man had Jane by the shoulders. Elizabeth’s hand went to her hip, only to find no sword or pistol waiting there. She started to drop down, to pull free the small knife hidden in her boot.

The man released Jane, stepping back, and Elizabeth straightened as a second man emerged from the door to the magistrate’s office. Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth thought, realizing she recognized both gentlemen. Their visages evidencing various states of surprise, Mary, Lydia, and Thomas clustered on the other side of Jane and the two men.

“I beg your pardon, miss,” the gentleman who’d run into Jane blurted. “I did not see you. A thousand apologies. Are you harmed?”

Jane had a hand to her chest, her cheeks flushed and her breath rapid. “Oh, no, my apologies, sir. I did not realize you were exiting the building. I would have moved from your path.”

He shook his head. “It is I who blundered into you, looking over my shoulder while walking. What a fool I am, to endanger you in such a way.” He bowed. “I beg your forgiveness.”

“You do not need to, sir. I am certain we were both in the wrong.”

Shaking his head again, the man opened his mouth to speak.

“Jane, you were merely walking along a street we have walked many times,” Elizabeth cut in, aware that her sister would simply apologize again as, apparently, would this man they’d robbed.

“Yes, which is why I was not being attentive enough,” Jane replied firmly.

Did Jane realize these were the men from yesterday? Was guilt the source of her adamant refusal to accept an apology for being nearly trampled? Elizabeth’s gaze darted to Mr. Darcy’s hat. She noted where someone, she suspected a skilled valet, had made a valiant attempt to minimize the holes.

Mr. Darcy’s mouth flattened as he regarded Elizabeth from beneath the beleaguered article. She cocked an eyebrow, daring him to recognize her. It was rather a shame he scowled so, for the expression spoiled a countenance every bit as handsome as she recalled.

“I am adamantly at fault,” Mr. Darcy’s companion said firmly. “I will do all in my power to make amends.”

Standing as tall as his thirteen years allowed, Thomas said, “My sister appears unharmed and has accepted your apology, sir. I am certain that will do.”

Mr. Darcy’s companion turned to him, then bowed again. “Charles Bingley at your service, sir.”

Shoulders thrust back, Thomas bowed in return. “Thomas Oakwood.” He gestured to Jane. “This is my sister, Miss Jane Bennet, who you mistakenly accosted, and these are three of our other sisters, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Miss Mary Bennet, and my sister Lydia.”

Mr. Bingley issued yet another bow and gestured to Mr. Darcy. “Mr. Oakwood, Miss Bennets, it is a pleasure to meet you. May I present my companion, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy?”

Mr. Darcy bowed to them as well, the gesture somehow grudging for all its fluidity.

Elizabeth curtsied, coming up to find that Mr. Darcy still studied her intently. She met his gaze with a fresh look of inquiry, regretting her earlier surety. After all, it wouldn’t do for him to actually recognize her as Azile.

“Are you recently arrived in Meryton?” Lydia asked brightly, ignoring the fact that Thomas had introduced her as a child might be introduced, not as a young lady out and ready to speak with impunity in the presence of two newly encountered gentlemen.

“We are merely passing through,” Mr. Darcy replied, the look he turned on Elizabeth’s little sister offended and aloof.

“Oh? On your way north or south?” Elizabeth asked innocently, pleased all over again to have taken Mr. Darcy’s money. In view of his hauteur, she’d been right in her initial assessment that he must be an annoyance to someone.

“Well, in actuality, we are here so I might tour an estate,” Mr. Bingley replied to Elizabeth’s inquiry, though his attention was fixed on Jane. “I’m thinking of leasing the place. Perhaps even of purchasing it. A man needs an estate, you see.”

“Certainly,” Jane murmured, looking down, her cheeks pink.

“You are thinking of leasing Netherfield Park?” Mr. Darcy asked sharply, turning to his friend.

Mr. Bingley nodded, all the while smiling at Jane. “Yes. I mean to speak with Mr. Morris about doing so momentarily.”

Elation and hope sped through Elizabeth. Their horrible cousin, Mr. Collins, was magistrate by appointment, having been put up for the position by Mr. Parkland, who owned Netherfield Park. Not one to trouble himself with his country seat, Mr. Parkland left the estate to the staff, and his duties in Meryton first to Mr. Collins Sr. and now to his son.

Jane smiled at Mr. Bingley, and for once Elizabeth agreed with her sister’s quick joy as Jane said, “Oh, but that would be wonderful. Netherfield Park has stood empty for far too long.”

Mr. Bingley leaned forward, his entire being eager. “Then you approve of the notion, Miss Bennet?”

“I thought we agreed that being accosted on the roadway was a sign,” Mr. Darcy said flatly.

Mary’s eyes went wide. She turned a questioning look on Elizabeth.

Mr. Bingley glanced at Mr. Darcy with a frown and Elizabeth wished anew for a weapon. She’d march Mr. Darcy off down the street where he couldn’t dampen Mr. Bingley’s enthusiasm.

“Are you the two gentlemen who got to meet the Boney Bandits yesterday?” Lydia cried. “I am so envious. What were they like? Is Enaj as handsome as they say, just like his reward posters?” She let out a sigh. “I have nearly all of them.”

Jane went pinker still.

Mr. Darcy turned a horrified look on Lydia.

Mr. Bingley frowned, though more in confusion than dismay. “You want to meet a pair of highwaymen, Miss Lydia?”

“Well, they’re ever so handsome in their posters.” Lydia clasped her hands before her. “Everyone wants to meet them. Even our sister Kitty, who is too good for most gentlemen.”

Mr. Bingley blinked in confusion. “But, they are bandits. Robbers of the innocent. Dangerous men.”

“They have never been known to harm a soul,” Mary said firmly, speaking for the first time. “And it is rumored that they give most of what they acquire away.”

“Give it away?” Mr. Darcy exclaimed.

Elizabeth imagined that Mr. Darcy sounded more offended than ever. Did he believe that highwaymen must be greedy? Directing her words at him, she said, “So rumor has it. It is what passes for charity hereabouts.” As it must, with the local landholders all either absent, Mr. Collins, or under Mr. Collins’ sway. Their estate, built by Papa Arthur, was generous with their tenants, but Elizabeth, Jane, and Mary could never convince their mother to further spread her wealth, especially to the beleaguered of Longbourn. Fanny Oakwood, formerly Bennet, somehow contrived to hold her ousting from her previous home as partly the tenants’ fault, as if they had any say in the entail.

Mr. Darcy’s brows drew into a rather dire vee and he said flatly, “I see.”

Elizabeth doubted he did.

He turned fully to Mr. Bingley. “We should be on our way.”

“Yes, to speak to Mr. Morris about touring Netherfield Park.” Mr. Bingley put forth the words with a hereto unseen firmness.

The two men locked gazes.

“I do hope you will like Netherfield Park, Mr. Bingley,” Jane said softly into the tense silence. “It would be a boon to the whole neighborhood to have you among us.”

Breaking his tableau with Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley smiled at her. “I am certain the estate will suit me well, Miss Bennet.” He bowed. “Mr. Oakwood, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Mary, Miss Lydia. A pleasure to meet you all.” He bowed yet again, then raised shining eyes to regard Jane. “Miss Bennet.”

Elizabeth curtsied along with her sisters, Thomas bowing. Mr. Darcy gave a scant mimicry of that obeisance and the two gentlemen departed, going in the direction of the Phillips’ residence.

As soon as they were gone, Mary whirled to Elizabeth. “Were they—”

“The gentlemen who were robbed yesterday?” Elizabeth cut in. “You would have to ask Lydia. She seems to have heard the morning gossip. I was out walking this morning, not chatting with the maids.”

“They are,” Lydia said, enthusiastic at being included. “Their carriage was diverted from the main road by Mr. Pierson’s sheep, which somehow got out, and they were robbed and one had his hat shot through by Enaj.” She issued another dreamy sigh. “They’re so lucky. I would give all my favorite ribbons to meet Enaj.”

Her cheeks still pink, Jane turned away to resume their walk to Mr. Lucas’s shop.

They entered the shop to the cheerful jingle of the bell and the sight of Charlotte Lucas looking over from where she dusted shelves of sundries. With a cheerful smile, she made her way to the counter, hanging the duster on a peg when she reached the front of the shop.

Lydia and Thomas immediately disappeared deeper into the shelves, though in opposite directions. Lydia to peruse ribbons she hadn’t the pin money to buy, but which she might prevail on her older sisters to purchase for her out of pity, for their mother gave Lydia the least. Thomas undoubtedly sought the shop’s small collection of lead soldiers, for which he was eternally saving. Elizabeth believed he had nearly enough for a cavalryman.

Mary wandered off as well, unobtrusively studying a set of silver teaspoons locked in a glass-fronted case while Elizabeth made her way to the counter with Jane.

Behind the counter now and wiping her hands on her apron, Charlotte greeted Elizabeth and Jane with, “You must be here for your mother’s bonbons.”

“You know us well,” Jane replied.

“Or at least, you know what will happen when your father sends a note around, informing our mother of the availability of sweets,” Elizabeth added.

Charlotte chuckled. “Well, yes, Papa knows what he’s about.”

Indeed he did. Mr. Lucas ran a respectable shop that contained most non-specialty items a person could want. Various preserved or less perishable foodstuffs. Assorted dishes. Some bolts of cloth. Whatever he thought the people of Meryton might require.

Not that Mr. Lucas was in his shop much, taking his role as Mayor of Meryton very seriously. A role he defined by being constantly out and about, speaking with any and everyone. Nor was Mrs. Lucas usually in evidence, for she did fine needlework for the ladies of the village who could afford it, and was usually in the family’s rooms above.

Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth watched as Mary inched nearer to the small doorway beside the counter. The one leading into the stockroom.

“I will go get them from the back. I haven’t had time to wrap them up yet,” Charlotte was saying to Elizabeth and Jane. “I did not realize you would be by so early, but I should have. You two are always early risers.”

“Perhaps unfortunately so,” Elizabeth said before Charlotte could turn to where Mary was about to step through the doorway. “You will never guess what happened to Jane on our way to you. She was nearly trampled by a wealthy gentleman.”

“Trampled?” Charlotte said with surprise. “But who would trample you, Miss Bennet?”

“It was an accident,” Jane said softly, shooting Elizabeth an annoyed look.

But Elizabeth wasn’t done. She needed to give Mary time for her work, so she continued with an exaggerated, overly dramatic recounting of the incident with Mr. Bingley and his haughty companion. She could tell Jane was unimpressed with the tale, but the telling seemed the easiest way to keep Charlotte from catching Mary in the act of hiding funds.

Finally, seeing Mary slip back into the front of the shop and drift away down an aisle, Elizabeth concluded with, “And from the way he looked at Jane, I believe this Mr. Bingley will let Netherfield Park simply to be near her.”

“His looks were nothing but polite regard,” Jane said softly, her cheeks red.

“Well, this is fine news.” Charlotte glanced about, then lowered her voice even though they were the only ones in the shop. “If this Mr. Bingley would buy Netherfield Park, and if he is as enamored with you, Miss Bennet, as you claim, you could convince him to oust Mr. Collins as magistrate.”

“Do not imagine it was not my first thought,” Elizabeth replied by way of agreement. And once Mr. Collins was no longer magistrate, Mr. Robinson would no longer be tax collector. He and Mr. Collins’ other cronies would lose their hold over the local populace.

“Truly, you are putting the cart ahead of the horse,” Jane said. “We merely exchanged greetings.”

“After which he said he would let Netherfield,” Elizabeth could not help but point out.

Jane frowned at her. “He came here for that purpose.”

“But it seemed clear that his companion, that Mr. Darcy, meant to dissuade him.”

“If anything was dissuading him, it was likely being robbed yesterday,” Jane cast back.

“Your Mr. Bingley is one of the gentlemen who the Boney Bandits got yesterday?” Charlotte asked, startled.

Her footfalls announcing her before her voice, Lydia said, “He is.”

Their youngest sister joined them at the counter, her expression eager and two pink ribbons in hand. Lydia launched into a rendition of the tale of the gentlemen being separated from their funds by Azile and Enaj, picked up that morning from some of the maids. Elizabeth listened with amusement and Jane with mortification, while Charlotte tried several times to assure Lydia that she’d already heard the news, simply not the names of the gentlemen involved. But Lydia would not be interrupted.

Finally, Lydia finished her story and turned to Jane, holding up the ribbons. “Is there enough money, do you think, for me to have these? They aren’t much.” She looked down. “I can pay you back the next time Mama gives me pin money.”

“I will buy them for you as a present,” Jane said immediately .

Lydia’s chin came up to reveal a bright smile. “Thank you. You’re the best sister.”

Elizabeth raised her gaze ceilingward, but she felt more amusement than annoyance.

Charlotte glanced over her shoulder at a large clock. “Let me wrap everything up for you. My father will return soon.”

They exchanged commiserative looks at that, for none of them wanted to hear the tale of how Mr. Lucas would surely have won the favor of the King if Mr. Collins Sr. hadn’t stolen his opportunity to deliver a speech. The Collins being their relations, something Elizabeth preferred not to own up to whenever possible, the sight of them always seemed to draw out the sad tale, which Mr. Lucas would conclude by listing all the advantages the King’s favor would have given him. He was certain he would be a shopkeeper no more, but instead have an estate, and the funds for him and Mrs. Lucas to attempt the begetting of more offspring than Charlotte.

But instead, Mr. Collins Sr. had preempted Mr. Lucas’s opportunity to address the Crown. He’d received no such rewards as Mr. Lucas dreamed of, but Elizabeth didn’t know if that was because the dream was false, or because Mr. Collins Sr. had been incapable of winning the King’s favor.

Charlotte went into the back room and returned with the bonbons, then unfurled a length of thin brown paper. As she worked, she said, “Do you imagine this Mr. Bingley will take possession of Netherfield Park in time for the next assembly? It’s a shame he missed the one last night.”

“Was it a fine affair?” Elizabeth asked.

“Elegant enough. It would have been more enjoyable with you there.” Charlotte wrinkled her nose. “Although, there were not enough gentlemen as it was.”

“Kitty did not wish to attend,” Lydia said, not looking up from carefully coiling her pink ribbons. “And Mama said there was no reason for her to go to the trouble to chaperone Jane, Elizabeth, and Mary because she despairs of them ever marrying.”

Charlotte handed over the wrapped bonbons. “Well, perhaps if this Mr. Bingley attends the next event, Miss Kitty will wish to as well.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth took in Jane’s frown.

“And I will attend, if Mr. Bingley attends,” Thomas said, coming up to the counter with a lead infantryman in hand. “I would like to purchase this, please, Miss Lucas.”

“I thought you were saving for the cavalryman,” Lydia protested.

Thomas shrugged. “This way, my army grows now. ”

“Why will you attend if Mr. Bingley attends?” Elizabeth asked their brother.

Thomas stood tall. “I am the man of the house, am I not? If Mr. Bingley is going to court our Jane, I must supervise.”

Lydia shoved her ribbons into the pocket of her gown. “Why does Tommy get to attend assemblies if I’m still too young? I’m two years older than he is.”

“Because you are a young lady and not yet out,” Mary said crisply, startling Elizabeth.

She looked over her shoulder in mild annoyance. She always forgot how softly Mary could tread.

“We do not know that Mr. Bingley will court me,” Jane murmured.

“Well, he won’t court Kitty, no matter how many times Mama and her say she’s the prettiest,” Lydia muttered.

“May I purchase this sheet music?” Mary asked Charlotte.

“Certainly.”

They settled up with Charlotte and started back home. Mary, Lydia, and Thomas were all in fine spirits, pleased with their purchases. Or, in Lydia’s case, gifts. Jane, to Elizabeth’s eye, seemed distracted and thoughtful, and Elizabeth wondered if her sister had taken to Mr. Bingley as much as he’d appeared to take to her. Jane’s feelings were often difficult to guess, an advantage for Enaj, but an annoyance for Elizabeth when she wanted to understand her sister.

The walk back wasn’t overly long and Lydia and Thomas raced ahead, both eager to add to their collections. Leaving Jane’s side, for her sister seemed disinclined to converse, Elizabeth lengthened her stride to walk with Mary.

In a low voice, Elizabeth asked, “Did you find a good place to leave the Lucases’ portion?”

While the Lucases did well enough, they could still use a bit extra to assist with the steep taxes Mr. Collins and his cronies had added to the books, some of which seemed designed to put Mr. Lucas out of business. An imposition likely put in place because he was elected mayor time and time again, a position Mr. Collins wished to add to his already held post of magistrate.

“Yes,” Mary replied in an equally soft voice, though the road was empty of all but their siblings. “I put the funds in the shop’s ledger.”

Worry filled Elizabeth. “Will Charlotte not find the sum today, then?” They had to be careful that no one ever suspected they left the caches of money credited to Enaj and Azile.

Mary shook her head. “She keeps a daily ledger at the counter, but in back, she has a weekly one into which she enters those sums. She will not find the funds until the end of the week, by which time nearly every person in Meryton is likely to have set foot in the Lucases’ shop.”

Elizabeth cast Mary a quick smile. “I should have known better than to doubt you.”

“Yes. You should have.” Her visage holding less censure than her tone, Mary continued. “Now, let us go listen to Lydia tell Mama of Mr. Bingley trampling Jane, and that Netherfield Park may be let at last. It should be entertaining.”

“That is one word for it.” Elizabeth wondered if she should plug her ears with cotton.

She also wondered if Mr. Bingley truly would let Netherfield Park. Mr. Darcy obviously opposed the idea, and his very presence spoke to Mr. Bingley’s regard for his opinion. Had Elizabeth and her sisters truly ruined the first step in finding Netherfield Park a new master and seeing Mr. Collins replaced as magistrate? Elizabeth hated to think that after all of Azile and Enaj’s hard work, they could be responsible for spoiling such an opportunity. If Mr. Bingley didn’t at least let Netherfield Park, Elizabeth would never forgive herself. Or that haughty Mr. Darcy.