London
Elizabeth
Elizabeth’sstomachchurned.Shewas shocked at all they had uncovered. Her opinion of her husband, already deplorably low, sank to its lowest depths. His journals were precise, extending over more than two decades, beginning shortly after he amassed a considerable fortune through the collection of tradesmen’s debts and ending only days before his death.
“Who is this Morton? Do you know, Wilkens?” Mr Bennet wondered. The journals did not give details as to the man’s identity. Instead, they outlined Fiennes’s plans for growing beyond that man’s business.
“I cannot tell you, sir,” Wilkens was turning pages in his own volume. “I recognise the name Arthur Reed, however. Mr Fiennes hired me after taking his business—imports and exports. He needed a solicitor and someone capable of quick judgement.”
Elizabeth looked up. “You were not his assistant at first?”
Wilkens shook his head. “No, at the outset I managed his acquisitions. Later, he employed my legal training to ensure our contracts could withstandscrutiny.” He swallowed hard. “I take no pride in it, ma’am. “We harmed many.”
Jane’s gentle voice was heard. “You are answerable only for what you chose to do, Mr Wilkens. These men borrowed from Mr Fiennes to their own undoing. And we have yet to discover he did anything illegal.”
“But without compassion—no charity,” Elizabeth said. “See here—this entry records how he acquired Netherfield Park. Papa, Mr Fields borrowed money to see his daughters suitably married.”
Mr Bennet frowned. “I had wondered if that were the case. Fields’s circumstances altered soon after.”
“This book lists twenty thousand pounds—repayable within five years.” Elizabeth held up the small black journal. “Netherfield yields five thousand a year. With prudence, Mr Fields might have met the debt.”
Jane sighed. “But his wife’s health failed, and Mama says he wasneverwise with money. She often complained ofthe airsput on at Netherfield Park.”
“Too true.” Elizabeth resumed her study. Each of them had a paper and pencil in hand, noting any threat that appeared significant. Their lists lengthened apace, every addition pressing heavier on her spirit.
The greatest blow lay at the end of the Netherfield volume. There Fiennes chronicled his transactions with the Bennets of Longbourn and detailed, step by step, his scheme to secure Mr. Bennet’s favourite daughter. The words turned her stomach.
“I can read no more.” Rising abruptly, she placed the journal in Jane’s hands. “Pray, excuse me. I need air. Kane shall attend me.”
In a trice she had changed her gown and donned a fashionable bonnet and spencer. The memory of the previous day’s walk, and its disturbing conclusion, made her shudder.I will not let fear confine me to that house,she resolved. Summoning Kane, she paced the room while he was fetched,the walls seeming to close around her as the longing for fresh air grew almost unbearable.
At last, they set out, crossing the street towards Hyde Park. Beneath the shelter of the trees, Elizabeth could breathe freely despite the warmth of summer. Her black gown felt stifling, but she soon found a shaded path and walked at an easy pace until a bench positioned under the broad branches of a great oak invited her to rest, where her thoughts began to wander.
Her husband’s wrongs were beyond number. The ruin he had brought to so many in the whole of the country and beyond was unimaginable. How was she to guard herself from Fiennes’s enemies? It was nigh impossible. Would they seek her out in time and exact their vengeance?
“Mrs Fiennes! Good morning.” Elizabeth startled. Mr Darcy approached, his stride purposeful and his countenance lit with unmistakable pleasure. Dare she hope he had come in search of her?
“Good morning, Mr Darcy. How do you do, sir?”
“Quite well.” He came to a stop before her and bowed courteously. “Might I join you?” At her nod, he took the seat beside her.
“You find me rather contemplative at the moment, Mr Darcy.” The strain in her tone was clear, even to her own ears, and she looked out over the park once more. “I needed to escape the house—the oppressive task of sorting my husband’s affairs must wait a while.”
“I understand only too well. I have also delayed attending to my father’s effects. Everyone expects me to assume the master’s duties at once, but six months still feels too soon.” He touched the black band on his sleeve. “How am I to take his place? My father was an exemplary master and excelled in all he undertook.”
Elizabeth turned to regard the man beside her. She admired his profile, his featuresstillhandsome, but pained. “You need not replace him. Be yourown master. Let his example serve as your foundation and build on it in your own way.”
“Sound, logical counsel.” Their eyes met; the small distance between them seemed charged. Elizabeth’s breath faltered. Never had a man’s nearness unsettled her so.
“If I may be so bold,” he went on, “how do you intend to meet your own difficulties?”
Her calm wavered. They had already spoken with a candour that exceeded what propriety might permit. She knew him too little to guess whether he might cut the acquaintance at her honesty. Something within rebelled at the thought, and she decided to speak vaguely. Suzanne had called him understanding, even liberal-minded, yet would he remain so towards a woman tainted by her husband’s deceptions?
“We are compiling lists,” she replied at last. “Once they are complete, we shall decide what is to be done.”
“A suitable way forward. ’Tis is a sensible beginning. Perhaps I shall adopt the same approach myself.”
She looked at him, eyes askance. “You are not still teasing me, are you, Mr. Darcy?”
