“He is not dead, like Steamer said,” the boy answered defensively, “just gone. I like the clothes because they are new, and clean.” After a pause, he said, “My uncle bought them when my father was captured—we all thought he would be hanged—but he is only in Newgate.” He rubbed a hand across his sleeve, looking at it. “I enjoy having a new coat.”
“Perfectly reasonable,” Elizabeth said, nodding. This was the most he had said thus far. “Are your father and uncle gone often? What line of work are they in?”
They were interrupted as the maid entered with a tray and looked around, undoubtedly wondering where to put it in a room that had not one flat, uncluttered surface. She looked to the boy to direct her, but he did not understand her looks and she simply laid the tray on the floor next to the bed.
“You were saying what your father and uncle do?” When the boy only looked at his feet, Elizabeth asked, “Do you want to go into the same line of business?”
“I don’t want to be a free trader,” he whispered.
Elizabeth turned to give him a questioning look, but Darcy shook his head. The boy seemed nervous, and whatever a free trader was, he did not want to discuss it.
The maid left, and the boy fidgeted with the key. Darcy saw him look toward the detritus. He followed his gaze to a pile of books. “Did you want to take a book with you?”
The boy’s expression shuttered, and he shrugged again.
“If they are your things, you must take them,” Elizabeth added, smiling.
“No. Mamma would only sell them if she saw them. My uncle lets me read in the kitchen when he comes.” He scuffed at the floor with the toe of his shoe. “Steamer mocks me if he sees me reading.”
“Well, if you like to read, then you must come as often as your mother can spare you.”
The boy scoffed. “She is drunk on gin half the time. She won’t notice if I am gone or?—”
“Kirby!” Steamer roared up the stairs. “How long does it take to lock a door?”
The boy flinched, and Darcy wondered if he was likely to be struck. He ran through the door and turned the lock. They heard his feet pounding down the stairs two at a time.
Elizabeth perched on the edge of the bed again. “He does not seem to know anything about us.”
Darcy agreed. “He told us a few things. No one lives in this house, wherever we are. The other men take rooms at the tavern. Steamer sleeps here sometimes, and this man Markle is rarely here.”
She nodded. “They do not keep a maid; they must have someone from the village to come in when they are here. But what purpose does the house serve if a boy spends his idle hours reading here and no one regularly lives here?”
“A better question is why are we being held here, and how long do they intend to keep us.”
Elizabeth shrugged and rose to stretch her arms over her head. She looked around for some place to walk and sighed in frustration. “He appears to not be wealthy, and his father a criminal and his mother a drunk.”
“I am more interested in the uncle and why the father is in jail. It might be behind our kidnapping. While you were under the influence of laudanum, Steamer said that if Kirby’s father had been hanged, far worse would have happened to Anne than merely being kidnapped.”
He said this to convince her to escape, and hopefully not frighten her more than she was, but Elizabeth only threw up her hands. “What could Miss de Bourgh possibly have to do with a gang of criminals?”
Darcy rubbed his face, desperate to pace but trapped by the clutter and the tray on the floor. “Maybe it is more a punishment to Lady Catherine? Injuring Anne injures her. But I have no idea what Steamer’s or this Markle’s connexion with her ladyship could be.”
He did not expect an answer, and Elizabeth had none to give. After a silence she asked, “Am I to understand they sent a message to this Markle and are awaiting his reply?”
Darcy nodded. “It sounded from the boy that they are expecting him in person.”
“So, they have sent no message to your aunt yet? They are waiting for this Markle? Why would they not demand a ransom immediately?”
“To show they are the ones in control. Or Steamer can take no further action without consulting this other man.”
Elizabeth fell onto the bed, looking oppressed. “When do you think everyone will know we are missing?”
Darcy thought back over the morning. “They took us around eleven. I left Rosings at ten thirty to find—” There was no point in mentioning his letter of explanation now. “I left for a walk at half ten, but it will be a while before anyone worries for me. Fitzwilliam and I intended to take leave from the parsonage today, but if he cannot find me, he will just go alone. Likely, no one will be alarmed until I fail to dress for dinner.”
“Those at the parsonage will be worried for me by now, although I often take a long walk. Mr Collins will call at Rosings to express his alarm before you are known to be missing.” She sounded extremely worried.
“There will be a great cry when we are discovered to be gone,” he agreed.
