Page 23 of Gentlemen of Honor (Bennet Gang Duology #2)

Missed Confrontations

Darcy dismounted before the inn in Meryton, handing the boy who rushed forward a coin and saying, “Keep him here. I will not be long,” in reference to his horse. The boy nodded and Darcy crossed the puddle-dotted street to the magistrate’s office.

He entered to find Robert Collins behind his usual desk in the reception area. Robert looked up with a welcoming smile as Darcy strode the length of the room, which remained ostentatious despite the removal of the framed works of art. On the wall behind Robert’s desk, a patch stood out, the eye holes which once peered through the garish painting that had hung there filled in with plaster.

“Mr. Darcy,” Robert greeted, standing.

“You do not use the magistrate’s office? As acting magistrate, I am certain it is within your right.”

Robert grimaced. “Even an hour in that room and my head starts to pound. Not to say any good of the decor in this room, but it is far better than enduring my brother’s office.”

“At least the paintings are gone.” Though a glance showed that the mural on the ceiling remained.

“Mary suggested we burn them and give the frames to Miss Kitty for her work.”

Darcy struggled to maintain a neutral expression. Miss Kitty’s work, especially at the size some of the frames were, would be the barest improvement over the taste of the late Mr. Collins.

Robert grinned. “I can see that your feelings on that mirror my own. I gave the frames to the church. I worried that, thus encouraged, Miss Kitty might begin making gifts of her art. That argument persuaded Mary.”

Darcy shuddered at the thought of Miss Kitty’s work hanging anywhere in Pemberley. “Miss Mary is very wise.”

Nodding in agreement, Robert asked, “How may I assist you? ”

Darcy sobered, all levity departing. “Thomas Oakwood is missing.”

“Missing?” Robert stared at him as if the word had no meaning.

“He is nowhere to be found in the house, his bed was not slept in last night, and Miss Bennet’s horse is gone.”

Robert sank back down in his chair. “And he said nothing to anyone?”

“He did not. However, Richard departed at dawn to ride to Nottinghamshire, to retrieve the herb that will reputedly cure Matthew, so we have some hope that Thomas followed him.”

His gaze snapping up from his desktop, Robert said, “That is a good idea, fetching the cure.”

“We can hope that Thomas thought so as well.”

“But you do not believe he followed Colonel Fitzwilliam?”

Shaking his head, Darcy admitted, “No. I do not. On at least two occasions, Thomas is known to have received letters from Lord Franklin, which he burned. When questioned on their content, he was vague, but I believe that Lord Franklin has tricked the boy into going off somewhere alone.”

Robert nodded, likely aware of the letters via Miss Mary. “But to what end?”

Unwilling to voice the idea of the boy’s demise, Darcy met Robert’s gaze squarely and said, “I am on my way to Netherfield Park to confront Lord Franklin on the matter.”

Robert stood. “I will join you. Permit me to collect my horse.”

Darcy was surprised Robert had ridden into the village that morning, for there’d been rain, but he supposed the only alternative was Mr. Collins’ ridiculous cream and gold carriage, which was nearly as detestable as his office.

The lane was just as pitted on the way to Netherfield Park as in the village. Darcy could only hope that some of the heavy taxes and fines that had been levied had gone into the village coffers, rather than being appropriated and spent on horrendous artwork and flamboyant carriages. The region deserved better roadways, and Darcy directed his mount with care, not wishing to arrive on Bingley’s doorstep completely covered in mud.

By the time they reached Netherfield Park, a banked mass of churning dark clouds rested on the horizon, a foreboding backdrop to the austere manor house in which Bingley and his guests resided. Leaving their mounts with the footmen who hurried out, Darcy and Robert Collins went in and were shown to a smaller, darker drawing room than the one Darcy recalled the Bingleys and Hursts to prefer. That one, Darcy assumed, was in the half of the house the Hargreaves had claimed.

Bingley and his sister waited, and Miss Bingley rushed forward to greet them, her brother trailing more slowly. “Oh, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Collins, how wonderful to see you.”

Darcy had rarely seen Miss Bingley issue such a warm and sincere greeting. “The Hursts departed?”

Her features pinched slightly. “They did, and we have had so few callers of late. Nor are we welcome at Dovemark, in light of Master Matthew being unwell, and Longbourn is in mourning.” She offered Robert a sympathetic smile. “Will you both join us for tea?”

Darcy shook his head. “I am afraid this is not a social call.”

Her gaze shifted to Robert’s dark-clad form and she nodded. “No. I imagine it is not.”

“Why are you both here, Darcy?” Bingley asked. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, mind.”

“Thomas Oakwood is missing.”

Miss Bingley gasped, a hand going to her mouth.

Bingley’s gaze narrowed. “And you believe Lord Franklin has something to do with that.”

“We have some hope that he followed Colonel Fitzwilliam north,” Robert said with little conviction.

“North?” Bingley’s brows drew together. “Is he bound for Matlock?”

“For Nottinghamshire,” Darcy clarified.

Miss Bingley shook her head. “Where the Hargreaves hail from? Whyever would he go there?”

“He seeks the antidote for the poison given to Matthew.”

Miss Bingley stared at him blankly for a moment, then her eyes widened. Color drained from her face. “You do not mean…that is, you believe…” She shook her head. “I thought it was those bandits? That they did something to the boy when they attacked Dovemark during the ball?”

“The Boney Bandits made no attack on Dovemark,” Darcy said firmly.

“And now Master Thomas is missing?” Miss Bingley wrung her hands. “Oh, I should have listened to Mr. Hurst, and you, Mr. Darcy. You both cautioned against inviting those dreadful people here. I did not believe the heir to an earl could be so terrible.”

Darcy had little sympathy for her. She should have listened, and she should overcome her notion that the more rank and wealth a person held, the better they were. In his experience, privilege and decency did not always, perhaps not even often, equate .

“Yes, you should have listened,” Bingley said with asperity. “You should never have written to Miss Hargreaves at all.”

Miss Bingley’s fists balled as she turned a glare on her brother. “I realize that, Charles.” Her lips pinched into a thin line. “I am going to drive them out.”

“We already asked them to depart.” Bingley offered Darcy and Robert a grimace. “They said they would make the arrangements to do so, and then simply remained.”

“Well, they will find that remaining is not comfortable any longer,” Miss Bingley said firmly.

Confusion replaced Bingley’s grimace. “How is that?”

“In every little way the staff and I can devise, and you will be giving bonuses to anyone who helps, to make up for them having to endure those monsters.”

“What do you have in mind?” Robert asked, his tone one of bemusement.

Miss Bingley shrugged. “Perhaps all the firewood will somehow be moved, so their staff cannot find any when our people forget to lay fires in their rooms. Or the door simply locked and the key missing. Perhaps their food will be spoiled, or someone will spill an ewer of water right in the center of Miss Hargreaves bed shortly before she retires. Or mice will find their way into her hat boxes, or nibble holes in the fingers of all of their gloves. All manner of things might go awry in such a countrified location.”

Bingley chuckled. “I am happy to pay out bonuses for such misfortune to befall them.”

“But you must ensure no harm is done to the staff here,” Darcy cautioned.

Beside him, Robert nodded.

“I will protect them,” Miss Bingley said stoutly. She looked capable of doing so. A tall woman, when she stood with her shoulders back and her chin up, her eyes narrowed to glaring slits, she appeared rather formidable indeed.

“Yes, well, you get started on that and I will take Darcy and Mr. Collins to speak with that rat Lord Franklin.” Bingley tapped the side of his head. “And do not imagine that I won’t be thinking up some inconveniences of my own.”

“Rats, yes.” Miss Bingley’s eyes glowed with malicious anger. “Rats will be far better than mice. I am certain the grounds keeper or the stablemaster must know how to capture some.”

Bingley stared at her in mild surprise. “Yes, well, carry on. Darcy, Collins, this way.”

He led them back through the house and into the opposite wing, taking them to the drawing room Darcy recalled from his stay. Within, they found Miss Hargreaves and Master Nathan, with no sign of Lord Franklin.

Nathan Hargreaves looked up with what appeared to be genuine pleasure and rose from his place on the sofa where Darcy had so often read. Miss Hargreaves set aside the needlework she held, her mouth executing a smile but her eyes cold.

“Gentlemen, to what do we owe the honor?” she asked, coming to her feet. “Dare I hope that you have come to call on me? Not that I would wish for the three of you to fight for the honor of my affections.”

Darcy swallowed back bile at the mere notion of holding affection for the creature before him. “We have come to speak with Lord Franklin.”

“I am afraid that is impossible.”

Nathan cast his sister an assessing frown.

“My brother is indisposed,” she continued, causing her younger brother’s brow to pucker.

“Indisposed in what way?” Bingley asked.

“I hardly feel that is an appropriate question, Mr. Bingley.” Miss Hargreaves shook her head. “But then, what can one expect from someone of your low breeding.”

Beside Darcy, Bingley tensed.

Miss Hargreaves must have noted his anger as well, for pleasure flashed in her eyes and she continued, “You cannot be blamed, I expect, for not understanding the rudeness of your inquiry. Undoubtedly, your father could not provide a proper education for you and your sisters. After all, what institutes would lower their standards to take you?”

“A man has the right to know if there is contractable illness within his home,” Darcy said crisply before Bingley could answer.

“Contractable illness?” She laughed, the sound light, fluttering, and well-practiced. “He merely bathes. He was out for a ride and returned covered head to toe in mud.”

“We will speak with him regardless.” Bingley made a crisp bow. “If you will excuse us.”

“You will not find him,” Miss Hargreaves said before Darcy could add his bow to Bingley’s.

“You said he is bathing,” Bingley replied. “He cannot be that difficult to locate. ”

“Did I say that?” Her eyes wide, Miss Hargreaves shook her head. “I cannot imagine why. I must have meant that he will do so, once he returns here. He is out riding.”

“He truly is out riding,” Nathan Hargreaves added.

“Riding where?” Robert asked him.

Miss Hargreaves stepped forward, between her younger brother and Robert. “He does not know. Nor do I. We do not interrogate Lord Franklin before he rides, the way you are so rudely interrogating us.”

Nathan sidestepped. His expression pinched with worry, he asked, “Why are you looking for him?”

“Thomas Oakwood is missing,” Darcy stated.

Shock flashed across Nathan’s features. He whirled to look at his sister.

“I cannot imagine the unfortunate disappearance of a boy has anything to do with our brother,” she said primly. “Truly, gentlemen, I have no notion what you hope to learn here.”

Bingley opened his mouth to speak, but Darcy stepped forward with a bow. “Thank you for your assistance, Miss Hargreaves, Mr. Hargreaves. We will not trouble you further.” He pivoted and led the way from the room.

Once they were in the hallway, Bingley made to speak, but Darcy cast him a warning look, long strides carrying them to the end of the corridor. Once there, he turned back to keep the doorway to the drawing room in sight, then gestured for Bingley and Robert to step closer.

“I believe you should, while we know the location of Miss and Mr. Hargreaves, ask your men to search the house for Lord Franklin,” Darcy said in a low voice. “It will be more expedient than exacting information from his siblings.”

Understanding replacing consternation on his face, Bingley nodded. “I will see to it,” he said and hurried away.

“I believe some well-placed questions in the stable may help,” Robert said quietly.

Darcy nodded, impressed with the younger man’s astuteness. “Go. I will remain here.”

As Robert strode away, Darcy took up a firm stance in the center of the corridor, glaring at the open drawing room doorway. A short time later, a footman passed down the hallway, opening the doors on the other side to peer in. He looked to Darcy and shook his head, then continued on his way, searching.

Nathan Hargreaves stepped free of the drawing room. He started when he saw Darcy in his place at the end of the hall, then cast a quick look back into the room. Squaring his shoulders, he strode forward.

When he reached Darcy, he looked back again, quickly, then whispered, “I do not believe my brother is here. ”

“Oh?” Darcy studied the young man before him. With his somewhat disconcerting pale green eyes and the last name Hargreaves, he did not seem overly trustworthy, despite what seemed to be efforts on his part to assist them.

“He did go out, and I do not believe he has returned.” He looked back down the hall again, his movements jerky. “Thomas is truly missing?”

“He is.”

“If my brother has him somewhere, I will find out where and get word to Dovemark.”

“That would be greatly appreciated,” Darcy allowed, seeing no reason to alienate a potential ally. Even one as unproven as Nathan Hargreaves.

He looked back again, then gestured down the hall, behind Darcy. “My sister sent me to call for tea.”

Suspicion welled in Darcy. “Should there not be a footman waiting to do so?” But he had not seen one in the drawing room, nor was one in the hall when they approached. Could Miss Bingley have implemented her plan more quickly than he, Bingley, and Robert had walked from one side of the house to the other?

Nathan grimaced. “Isabella does not care to have Netherfield’s staff, as she puts it, lurking about spying.” He shrugged. “She would much rather have a reason to give orders to me.”

Darcy pondered that. Hargreaves seeking tea could be a ruse to permit him to warn Lord Franklin of their search. Miss Hargreaves could have deduced that they were not so easily deterred as Darcy had attempted to appear.

“I mean only to go to the kitchen. On my honor.”

Returning his attention to Nathan, Darcy suppressed a sigh. If they could trust the honor of a Hargreaves… “I hold no authority to prevent you.”

“Thank you. It is best if my sister’s demands are met as quickly as possible, or she becomes shrewish.” He dipped his head to Darcy and slipped around him.

Nathan returned shortly, nodding to Darcy as he passed. In time, several maids appeared bearing tea trays, but not soon enough to allay any suspicion that Nathan hadn’t gone directly to the kitchen. Of course, their tardiness could be due to Miss Bingley’s machinations rather than any on the part of Nathan.

Bingley returned as well, his search fruitless, and then Robert arrived with the information that Lord Franklin had ridden out and had not yet returned. Aggravation, targetless, settled over Darcy. He and Robert bid Bingley farewell, with promises on all sides to relay any pertinent information.

Darcy left Robert Collins in Meryton and continued on to Dovemark. He rode slowly, his thoughts churned like the mud beneath his mount’s hooves. He was Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley. He had standing, wealth, and connections. He also had what was right on his side, and yet he had accomplished nothing. They were no nearer to locating Thomas. At least Elizabeth had hit upon sending Richard north.

Richard had something worthwhile to occupy him. All because he was willing to break into an orangery when Darcy was not. Richard, and Lord Franklin for that matter, were willing to break the law and, insofar as Darcy could tell, were being rewarded.

But that would not last. Darcy would not stand for Lord Franklin’s behavior. What they needed was someone familiar with the thinking of a Hargreaves. Someone with the authority to curtail Lord Franklin and his sister. They needed the Earl of Pillory.

Resolved, Darcy urged his mount to a quicker pace. He did not like to go against the wishes of Elizabeth and her sisters, but the time had come to write to the earl. He would do so immediately, sending one letter north and the other south, on the chance the man was at his residence in London.

If only Darcy had foreseen Thomas’s disappearance, he would have sent a letter with Richard. He’d lost nearly a day by not doing so. He could only hope that his cousin did, indeed, get caught robbing the earl’s orangery. That would see the Earl of Pillory arrive that much sooner. With Thomas missing, even half a day might make a difference.