“Utterson is no different in his habits,” Darcy said, overlooking his cousin’s error, “though he shall have to make his own way in the world. His father tries to control his behaviour by controlling his purse.”
“I do not know Utterson as well. He appears gentlemanlike, but he is not as easy and affable as Balfour. He does not want abilities, though.”
“He can be a pleasant companion when he thinks it worth his while,” Darcy agreed.
“Rather like someone I know,” Fitzwilliam muttered with a wink as he cued his horse and they resumed riding.
“Utterson is the younger son of a baronet, a few years younger than Balfour and me. His father is paying his fees and expenses to enter the law, but has reduced his allowance to keep him from spending too much and not studying enough. Utterson complains of his wants and distresses, if not in direct terms, then at least by strong innuendo,” Darcy said slowly. “He might have a greater want of money than I realised. And he prefers London life, and all of the expenses that go along with that. He has to live on whatever his father allows him until he completes his studies.”
“But Balfour also complains about living on a father’s meagre allowance.”
“He will inherit. Utterson will not, and he is jealous.”
“Utterson is the poorer man, certainly, but does he spend as much as Balfour? I doubt it.”
“Would either of them have sunk to such depths, to steal from me and from those poorer than them, to maintain a London style of living?”
Fitzwilliam shook his head. “It would be a selfish desperation I can hardly comprehend, especially if one of them killed for it.”
The idea of either of them killing Carew burned him. “I would have helped either of them,” Darcy cried angrily. “If either man had a real distress of funds, or wanted advice on how to better manage their expenses, I would have helped him!”
His cousin gave a sad laugh. “You are labouring under the idea that whoever killed Carew shares your sense of gentlemanly honour. If a man feels entitled to an expensive manner of living and is willing to steal, he would never turn to someone for advice and admit he did not have the funds. If Balfour or Utterson did this, and did it in order to appear as though they have more money than they truly do, then he is not the man you thought he was.”
Darcy was about to say something about such a betrayal of friendship, but then he thought of Molly Carew. He had to close his eyes to put aside the memory of her father’s weeping. Her murder outweighed any sense of betrayal or disappointment he felt.
“Fitzwilliam, what shall I do? I have no support from the magistrate. Can I accost them directly? Search their belongings for stolen goods?”
His cousin thought for a long while before answering. They were nearly at the stable when he said, “If you stole things to gain funds to spend and gamble, would you not sell them quickly? You should look, but I doubt the items remain at Pemberley.”
“They have been very much on their own since they arrived, and more so this week since I have been occupied with recovering from the storm, but where could they have quickly and easily sold them?”
Fitzwilliam thought for a moment. “There are pawnbrokers in every town. Bakewell, Buxton, Matlock, all across the Peak are towns large enough to boast a pawnshop. And for someone desperate enough to kill to have more money to throw around in full view of hisfriends, the idea of turning in a piece of silver for ready cash is tempting.”
“Pawnbrokers will not accept stolen goods, and one must give a name to leave a pledge.”
“Not every pawnbroker is reputable,” he said, scoffing, “and whoever is behind this will not admit to where his items came from or even use his own name.”
Darcy ignored this slight on his worldliness. “If it is true, then how weak and desperate he must be,” he said quietly. “To steal, to kill, and to sell those items below value to have money quickly.”
Fitzwilliam gave him a stern look. “Like I said, whoever is behind this is not the man you thought he was.”
It was a chilling realisation, and yesterday both men walked alone with Elizabeth. What if she had mentioned her suspicions about Carew’s death or noticing her missing ring? “I expect them to return on Sunday. I will search their rooms before then, and then watch to see if either of them leaves the house to plunder Lambton again.”
“And I will ride to Matlock and Buxton on Monday to see if anything of note was pawned this week. Someone who is not the usual weekly pawner might stand out.”
They were now in the stable yard, and made their way inside where they were told that Miss Bennet and Mrs Lanyon had accompanied Miss Darcy and Mrs Annesley to distribute clothing and food to his tenants. Even though Balfour and Utterson were fifteen miles away, he was glad to know that his steward was accompanying them.
Upon realising the women were still gone and there was an hour yet until they had to dress for dinner, Fitzwilliam asked, “Cues or maces?” and turned towards the billiard room.
“Cues,” he answered, and they settled on the rules and that they would play to only six.
They played in companionable silence for five minutes before Fitzwilliam said, “Why did Miss Bennet leave her newlywed sister to stay here a few weeks longer? I would have thought she would be unhappy with you after she learnt how you disapprove of her sister’s match.”
“Disapproved,” he corrected, hitting the red ball. “Past tense. Iheartily approve now that I know she loves Bingley.” Darcy struck another ball. “And my former objections had nothing to do withher, but rather her connexions, the behaviour of her family, and my mistaken belief of her indifference to Bingley.”
“Still, even after what you did, Miss Bennet left her sister to stay here... with you.”
“With Mrs Lanyon,” he corrected.
