Page 55 of Tempted (Heart to Heart Collection #2)

Chapter 55

London

T he return to London was everything jarring and offensive to Darcy’s senses. The eight days he had spent rapturously sequestered at sea with his Elizabeth seemed a distant paradise compared to the blank discouragement that was all the news of Mrs Bennet and her daughters. Worse, he had to see Elizabeth’s face when she learned that her mother and sisters were not yet accounted for. She, like he, had sustained herself on the sort of buoyant hope only possible when the truth is not to be had.

However, at least now, she had Jane. The two had clung to each other in tears and laughter at their first meeting—Mrs Bingley in sobbing relief that her sister was not lost to her after all. “Bingley,” Darcy said after their wives left the room, “I am going to speak to someone, and I was hoping Elizabeth might stay here.”

“Your investigator? He was here yesterday telling me everything he had learnt, which was not much.”

“No, there is someone else. Will you look after Elizabeth?”

“Well, I hardly think she needs looking after. She looks well enough to me, but you know my Jane would not suffer her sister to leave after just getting her back again.”

“I am asking for more than the afternoon. In fact, I think it best if Elizabeth stayed with you until this is all settled, but I must make my appearance at my own house for this to work. No one knows she is here yet, and I prefer it that way.”

“Of course, Darcy. Are you sure you do not want me to come with you?”

“No, it would be better for you if you did not become involved. I will be back by dinner.”

G eneral Houghton lowered his pipe. “You do not say. My men would never chase a baseless lead like that. Tossing the house and property of a peer, just to hunt down one stray soldier? Rubbish, Darcy. Someone misinformed you.” The general banged his fist on his desk for emphasis.

“I tell you, sir, your men were played like marionettes. Someone manipulated and lied to them, and they took the bait.”

“Well, in truth, they were not my men. Walworth, he is over that division. Can you be certain of this? What proof have you? The truth, Darcy, none of your stiff lip.”

Darcy laced fingers speculatively on his knee. “The truth?”

“We are old friends, Darcy. I wear the uniform, and I serve my king, but I heard the unofficial account of Fitzwilliam—back as far as last August. I was not able to repeat under direct order, but I was able to believe it. I am sorry I could say nothing to that end before when you were seeking him, but I will help you where I can. Fitzwilliam is still alive, I take it?”

“He is. And he did come to Matlock, but the information your men claim to have acted upon was over a week old when they said it was fresh. What I did not know then was the name of the informant who led them thence.”

“And you do now?”

“He is well known to me. A malefactor who has sought nothing but to extort money and influence wherever he could get it, and I have reason to believe he has misled and kidnapped my wife’s relatives.”

“Wife?” Houghton coughed. “Eloped to America to escape the monstrous ceremony Lady Matlock had planned, did you? I wondered why you dropped it all and scampered off with nary a word to anyone.”

Darcy allowed a slow smile of confession. “And now my relatives are in danger. I would be most grateful if you could tell me anything about Walworth’s sources. Perhaps I can find the man before he finds me.”

“I will look into it, Darcy. What is more, I will post a detail to protect you and your wife, if you like. Least I can do, since I was of so little help over the matter with Fitzwilliam. Now, tell me, who is this lady? Same one you were said to be so smitten with last winter?”

“None other.”

The general laughed heartily. “Bring the lady by sometime. I will notify you the instant I hear anything; you have my word.”

“Thank you.” Darcy rose to go, and then paused. “One other thing. Do you recall last winter when I persuaded you to cut ties with that station in Wyoming where you were buying remounts?”

“How could I not? You should see the nasty letters I received from that jilted partner. Bryson, yes, that was his name. What of it?”

“I am withdrawing my objection. I will be investing heavily in the operation, if you choose to do business with them again.”

The general replaced his pipe. “Really? Turned a pretty profit on the affair after all, did you?”

“No, but it is under new ownership. A man who knows his business and is honourable to his last breath. I would invest in an enterprise like that.”

The general frowned and tucked his thumbs into his waistcoat pocket. “I will pass on the recommendation.”

Darcy collected his hat. “Thank you, General.”

T wo days of sickening tension and unease later, Darcy had the word he was looking for.

Houghton wrote that Walworth’s network was, indeed, compromised. The officers had long known of corruption in the shipping ports—which, Darcy surmised, was how they had learned of Richard’s movements—but even some Royal Mail carriers appeared to have taken bribes. The more troubling aspect, to Houghton’s mind, was how a group of opium smugglers seemed always to be ahead of the Army. When he notified his superiors that a criminal network had got the better of Army intelligence, he had the leeway to blow the matter open a bit, and with Darcy’s help, he meant to do it.

Darcy cast the general’s note aside, for the other letter that arrived was the real word he was watching for. Wickham wanted to meet. He had wondered if it would be so, now that he was known to be back in London. Wickham had been waiting for him.

Elizabeth turned white when he showed her the note. “Is there no other way to confront him? Must you really go alone?”

“I am afraid so, my love.”

“But, what of Mama! Are you sure I cannot go with you? Surely, they would be close, and he must tell me where to find them!”

“No. If anything, we only risk tipping our hand to a practised gambler. Be easy, Elizabeth. Remember, he is a charmer first. He gains nothing if they are not alive and safe.” He kissed her brow. “I will not be long.”

Wickham was at the same table as before, with a dwindling pile of coins and some hard-luck players in front of him. He pretended not to notice Darcy stepping back behind the curtains, but ten minutes later, there he was. “Well, old man, how was Boston?”

Darcy took a slow drag at his brandy. “Romantic.”

Wickham snorted. “I confess, that was not the answer I expected. Not from you, at any rate.”

“I imagine there are a number of things you do not expect. Where are Mrs Bennet and her daughters?”

“Patience, Darcy. What makes you think I have them? What, you believe I have them gagged and trussed up like prisoners in some cellar? Pssh. I know where they are, though.”

Darcy could hardly conceal his contempt and foul rage, but he fought to contain it… just a little longer. “Why?” he gritted between his teeth.

“Why? I was only doing a service, old chap. You were busy. A shame about the family’s father—I wonder how it was that he was killed? One might almost suspect someone was taking revenge on him on account of his faithless daughter. A real piece of work that one was! If you ask me, you are well rid of h—”

Darcy cut him off by shooting to his feet and grabbing Wickham by the throat. “How many letters did you forge in my name? What do you mean, sending the dogs after an innocent woman with your lies?”

Wickham snarled and twisted free, then rubbed his neck. “Innocent? She is a murderess, Darcy! Oh, I tell you, Bryson paid handsomely to learn where she was. Not hard for our informants to follow a one-eyed old soldier and a pretty girl like that from port to port, even if Fitzwilliam thought he was being secretive. I fancy Bryson has found her by now and had his own satisfaction.”

Darcy’s head pounded in wrath, his veins surging hot and livid, but he checked himself. “Richard would kill anyone who tried to harm her.”

Wickham shrugged. “It may be, but Bryson was happy to pay me off, nonetheless. He was still spitting and foaming about learning she was alive when I spoke with him. Something about a portrait of her dressed in finery and looking quite the queen of all she surveyed.”

Darcy narrowed his eyes. “It was you who provoked the attack on Mr Bennet.”

“I? No, but I heard all about it. What, you do not think those letters were delayed by accident, do you?”

Darcy leaned ominously over the table. “I have had enough games, Wickham. Where are his wife and daughters? You had better pray they are unharmed.”

“Where are they? Not far. Unharmed? Unfortunately. If you have an ounce of sense in you, you will leave them where they are before you ever meet Mrs Bennet. Ah, but yes, the faithful lover, ever noble despite being virtually left at the altar. How does it feel to have your dreams crushed, Darcy? Every hope and desire ripped from your chest and shredded to ribbons, and you helpless even to protect what little you have left of her!”

“ That is what this is about? Pure revenge—on me for denying you, or Elizabeth for splitting your lip?”

Wickham scoffed. “Sweet as it is to see both her and you ruined, I have other considerations. If I had only wanted revenge, I would have tossed those batty ninnies in the sea and washed my hands of it, a satisfied man. No, no, this is about keeping my head on top of my neck. Do you know how I am still alive after you cast me adrift last time? I promised Walsh a bigger prize than myself.”

“And it never occurred to you to simply vanish in America, once you had got out?”

Wickham chuckled. “Well, even I must have something to live on. My chances were better after taking my cut.”

Darcy crossed his arms and levelled a hard stare at him. “How much?”

“Oh, I am afraid it was not I who set the price this time. I tried to make him more reasonable, Darcy, but he would not go for less than 100,000 pounds. I said one flighty old woman and two senseless girls could never be worth that much, not even if I sold them on the black market, but he seemed to think we could get it from you. So, what is it to be, Darcy? Have we a bargain?”

Darcy tipped his chair back on two legs, his eyes narrowed. “100,000?”

Wickham shrugged. “It was a nice round number. I suppose if you prove unwilling, I might yet get something out of the two younger girls. The mother is useless to me—in fact, I would dearly love to silence her.”

Darcy’s fist clenched under the table. “I have a better idea.”

“Do you? I hope you are not meaning to try some deception, Darcy, for we are watched every moment. And if you think I would escape with mercy again, you are quite wrong. They would cut us both down.”

“No deception. But 100,000 is more than I can access now. I would speak with Matlock.”

“Ah, yes. The unwitting brother-in-law. Clever. Sentiment for his lost brother will surely be the very thing. Very well, Darcy. Tomorrow? Here?”

“I need two days, and unless you want to be seen trading in flesh, we should meet somewhere outside the city. On the road north, I think. Be here tomorrow afternoon, and I will send you word of the place and time.”

Wickham stood and tipped his hat with that smug, hateful smile of his. “Well, then, I shall need to go out and buy a bigger purse. Be sure to come alone. Pleasant afternoon, Darcy.”

“I t will never work.” Reginald, just arrived from the Derbyshire train, paced Darcy’s study, and shook his head.

“I tell you, it will. Wickham thinks he has the upper hand, so we let his pride lead him directly into the fall.”

“Yes, but if what you say is true, Wickham has probably won over Mrs Bennet. She will be no more likely to trust you than he is to keep his word. How then will you persuade her to come with you when you try to separate them? What advantage do you have that he does not know about?”

Darcy paused and waited for his cousin to stop pacing long enough to look at him. “I have Elizabeth.”

Reginald blinked. “Well… of course, metaphorically… I suppose she must have told you a great deal about her mother and—”

“No. I have Elizabeth. I found her in Rhode Island after she wrote to Georgiana.”

“What!” The earl’s jaw dropped in horror. “Do you mean she left Richard after all? I thought better of her than that.”

“As a matter of fact, he intended to leave her. Or rather, send her back here.”

“Darcy—” Reginald’s voice was low and dangerous. “I warned you not to interfere.”

“I did not. I only went there because I needed her help when I learned that Mrs Bennet had gone missing. As it turned out, Richard tried to file for an annulment before I even arrived, but there was nothing to annul. The marriage was not even valid by the laws of the state of Wyoming.”

Reginald held up a hand, his eyes clenched in denial. “Suppose for an instant I believe this was done honourably—what now? Do you still mean to marry her after everything?”

“I already have. We married in Boston the day we boarded the ship.”

Reginald dropped into a chair and stared at the wall in blank stupefaction. “Egad, Darcy. You eloped! And she is here in London?”

“She is staying with Bingley for now because I wish to conceal her presence from Wickham, but yes. His intent was to shatter me, bring me to my knees. Let him think he has done so.”

Reginald pushed back to his feet and paced again like a caged tiger. “It will be a fearful scandal. Think what everyone will have to say! Elopement is starting to become almost fashionable, but what of her history?”

“You know I care nothing for that. And I think you are wrong, because we were too vigilant when she first arrived. Our shame in how we disbelieved her at first may prove to be the very thing that protects her.”

“All the same, what do you mean to do about Wickham? Are you asking me for money? Footmen?”

“Only the appearance of support.”

Reginald’s jaw set and his teeth flashed much as his brother’s were wont to do when his resolve was fixed. “What do I do?”