When the man stammered a denial, Fitzwilliam put his face inches away and hissed: “There is no point denying it. Today is not the first time I have seen you. Given your clothing, you do not belong within ten miles of Mayfair. It would be in your best interests to tell me what I wish to know.”
Fitzwilliam’s deadly quiet voice was more effective than if he had bellowed in his loudest parade square voice. The man staredat him, slack-jawed in fright, and then appeared to crumple in on himself in surrender.
“I dunno who ‘e was,” muttered the man, unwilling to look up in Fitzwilliam’s face. “All I know is ‘e paid me ter watch the ‘ouse an’ let ‘im know when you stepped out.”
“Details,” barked Fitzwilliam. “What did he look like?”
“Older bloke, ‘e was—maybe a touch older than that one there.” The man pointed at Mr. Bennet. “Grey ‘air, dressed a bit like me—weren’t no one I knew, though.”
“And where did you meet him? How did he pay you?”
“East end o’ town, down by the docks,” muttered the man. “I don’t know nothin’, I swear it. Just told ‘em wot I seen, is all.”
Fitzwilliam continued to press him for several more minutes, but it soon became clear that he knew nothing more than he had already told them. He detailed some reports he made to his contact, but they were nothing more than the comings and goings of the house. Of the man he reported to, there was nothing useful other than the description; according to the scruffy lout, the man revealed nothing about the information he was gathering. A few coins exchanged hands, likely not worth the scruffy man’s time, and he was sent back to watch and report further.
“Very well,” said Fitzwilliam at length. “Hold him in the cellar and have the constable summoned. I will want to question him further should anything else occur.”
Then Fitzwilliam appeared to consider something, and he turned back to the man. “Did you ever have any contact with anyone in this house. A woman, blonde hair, blue eyes, with the bearing of a woman of quality?”
“No,” was all the sullen man would say.
Fitzwilliam nodded to the footman, who escorted the man out of the room, the pair of men waiting on the other side of the door joining him the moment they emerged, ensuring theircaptive did not make a bid for freedom. When the man was gone, Elizabeth slipped into the room and went at once to Darcy’s side, while her father shut the door behind her.
“What do you think?” asked Darcy.
Shaking his head in disgust, Fitzwilliam said: “I doubt the man knows anything more. I shall attempt to catch his contact at the location he gave us, but if the man is at all alert, he will avoid the place unless the spy shows himself first.”
With a sigh, Fitzwilliam sat in the chair. “In truth, I suspect the man with whom he was meeting is not the one for whom we are searching.”
“An extra level of security?” asked Mr. Bennet.
“Given the lengths he has gone to hide himself from us,” said Fitzwilliam, “I believe it is likely. I did not recognize the description of the contact, though I suppose they may be thieves unknown to us.”
“The intruder and his familiarity with the house would suggest otherwise.”
“That it does,” agreed Fitzwilliam.
Shifting, he rested his jaw in his hand and stared at the window. “There is something about this that strikes me as wrong. I might almost suspect Wickham of having a hand in it.”
“Wickham?” asked Darcy, fixing Fitzwilliam with a sharp look. “That name seems to arise often.”
“It does,” said Fitzwilliam. “If I did not consider him a coward lacking the internal fortitude to plan and execute such a dangerous gambit, I might almost suspect his hand in this.”
“Perhaps we should send to Meryton to discover if he is still there,” suggested Mr. Bennet. “If he is, we will know he is not involved.”
A grunt comprised Fitzwilliam’s response. “I will send a request through the army’s channels. With any luck, we will have an answer within two days.”
“The question is what we do in the interim,” said Darcy. “I have considered this for the past several days, and I think it is time we left town.’
Fitzwilliam eyed him for a long moment, then nodded. “Yes, that might be for the best.”
“Is that necessary, William?” asked Elizabeth.
Darcy drew her in close. “If we go to Derbyshire, it will be much easier to protect the girls. The biggest problem we face in London is the vast throngs that inhabit it. It is far easier for a man to hide among the masses, even in a quiet district such as Mayfair. In Derbyshire, that avenue will not be available. We will have more eyes there for the staff is larger; anyone wishing harm will need to make his way to the house and inside before he can do anything, which will be more difficult than here in town.”
“Then I suppose we should begin making preparations,” said Elizabeth, her tone now businesslike. “Papa, will you bring my mother and sisters to the north too?”
Mr. Bennet regarded her, a half-smile playing about the corner of his mouth. “Given what I have heard of the library there, I must assume that it is compensation for the three days of travel I must endure. As your mother has never seen your new home, I suspect she will wish to go.”
