Later, he met with Davies and asked him to report whether or not the men hired to rebuild Shirethorpe were competent and if their pay or schedule would likely be inducements to cut corners. Darcy said, “I do not know the best tactic to take if they are not doing good work, but I do know that I would not wish a series of needless disasters, caused by low-quality work, to occur—especially not so near to Pemberley.”
Davies said, “As you know, I have two men trained up to help with all masonry jobs here; but I have not yet informed Morristhat I have identified another boy, Wilson’s second eldest son, who is strong and conscientious enough to do the job. I should love a project that the four of us could take on, in which I can teach Jim Wilson the craft. If you continue to pay us all our usual wages while we work on the new Shirethorpe, alongside the duke’s hires, I could almost guarantee that the town will be well made.”
That seemed a valid plan, and Darcy agreed to it but warned Davies that he should keep the inspection and the offer of help as secret as possible—especially the fact that they were associated with him, and Pemberley. His recent interactions with the duke had been problematic, and so he wished to maintain discretion about his involvement with anything connected to Shirethorpe.
Of course, Darcy kept in mind the itinerary of the Gardiners and Elizabeth. He wished to send a report to their northernmost destination, and it would take his messenger half a day to travel there. Even as he worked on his usual concerns, checking in with local gossip and the reports from his investigators, plus the nascent projects on behalf of Lambton and Shirethorpe, he watched the days tick down. Finally he was able to sit down and pen a letter reporting that “the man of our recent concern” only attempted to visit “the lady” one time and seemed to be busy with other plans and tasks. He wrote that no gossip had sprung up anywhere “regarding the matter we discussed.”
Darcy handed the sealed letter to Billy, the youth who had long proven his worth in courage and loyalty. Outlining the places where he would change horses, Darcy instructed Billy to hand it to Gardiner directly, and to wait for an answer.
“If Gardiner is not there yet, wait for him; if he has been and gone, try to follow him; if he has alerted the innkeeper that he would not be coming, after all, come back here.”
Billy nodded. The careful instructions were not terribly unusual; Darcy had many sensitive financial transactions which had been coordinated via messages Billy had carried.
Darcy felt almost giddy with happiness that he might soon be hearing from Elizabeth, via Gardiner, about her return. He knew that they were not officially engaged yet—that she might have changed her mind, once free of the anxiety about the duke—but every part of him believed he could rely on her statement that she was positive she wished to marry him.
Eight
Sure enough,Billy’s return was accompanied by the heartening news that Elizabeth was, indeed, coming back to him; Gardiner wrote, “She tells me that she has to inform you of a positive response to your enquiry. I, of course, have no idea to what she refers, and here I give you a wink, but know that I wish for you and my niece the greatest happiness.”
Darcy had already experienced great happiness when she had said that her answer was going to beyes, and that she was already certain of it even though her aunt cautioned her to wait. He felt that he did not have the capacity to be even happier, but somehow he managed to feel an entirely new flood of happiness. Elizabeth Bennet was going to marry him!
And in just four days she would be back!
Darcy dove into his usual work with so much motivation, he sped through his ordinary tasks and was able to put into motion other important projects. He wrote extensive details on a marriage settlement and changes to his will, which he sent to his attorney. He also sent out several letters to begin the hunt for a secretary. He authorised a Lambton resident named Theodore James to hire people for a local northern-Derbyshire newspaper,and he arranged for a bank account to be set up for the purpose. Finally, he furthered the project of building a new school by quietly inviting the leading citizens of Shirethorpe to a meeting in Lambton.
So passed the first day of waiting for Elizabeth. However, his second hyper-productive day was completely derailed when he received another express.
“Sir,” his butler said. “An express for you. It looks…irregular, so I detained the rider for questioning.”
Connors was not one to detainanyone, so Darcy became instantly concerned. He briefly noted that the message looked irregular because it was quite bedraggled—smudged, spattered with mud, the wax seal smeared rather than stamped. The direction was written in an unknown hand; he quickly broke the seal and cast his eyes to the bottom of the message. The signature there claimed to be George Wickham—but Darcy knew that miscreant’s signature all too well, and it looked nothing like that.
He quickly read the message and jumped to his feet, heart pounding.
I have Elizabeth Bennet. If you want to see her alive again, bring ten thousand pounds to the White Stag inn, which is located on the Kendal to Penrith road, just outside of Ambleside. You have two days.
Darcy felt slightly dizzy but, as he rushed out of his office, he was already asking Connors, “Is the rider in your office?”
“Yes, sir.”
The express rider was very young, and his wide eyes and frown indicated anxiety, although Darcy noticed with satisfaction that Connors had given him a plate of food and a tankard of (he presumed) ale. The youth stood and bowed.
“What is your name?” Darcy asked, trying not to be so impatient that he made the youth frightened enough to be incapable of truthful replies.
“Tom, if you please, suh.”
“Well, Tom, what can you tell me about the man who sent this express?”
“Nothing ’t all, suh,” Tom gulped out. “I were given’t by me boss, and he said to change ‘orses ever’ chance I got; ’twas a rush order. I never saw the gent’ who paid, suh.”
Darcy was certain that the youth was telling the truth; after getting the name of Tom’s employer, he said, “Very well, Tom. Be certain to treat your horse to one of the apples from the kitchen, and safe travels.”
Darcy raced back upstairs and rang for Stevens. He began changing into riding clothes even before his valet arrived, but his thoughts were moving faster, even, than he was.
Should I go to Barclays Bank in Lambton and pull out ten thousand pounds? How in the blazes did Wickham come to know of Elizabeth? Can Barclays even gather that much money in such a short period of time? But I must try?—
Wait, is it a trap? It could not be Wickham, could it? He would either use his own recognisable handwriting or would use another man to write it, or at least disguise his hand—but in those cases, he would not sign the note! Plus, Richard is working to get Wickham out of the militia and into the regulars, to be shipped overseas—so the reprobate is nowhere near the Lake District—and again, how could Wickham even know about her—or about her trip to the Lake District?
But, then, whowouldknow? Could the duke suddenly know her first name and her destination? Could he have sent someone to follow the Gardiner’s carriage? But they left before he even called and found out that they were gone. Maybe someone followed Billy?
