“I will send two men to visit him and point out that he will continue his work for us until we say he is done!” the butler replied in the same tongue.
The butler bowed. There was no need for more words; he knew exactly what needed to be done. It had been easy to purchase St Clair’s loyalty when Jacques had been sent to recruit expatriated Frenchmen. The promise of the restoration of his family’s lands was all it took to make St Clair forget the debt he owed the country which had taken him in. It was after the man had been recruited that he had done as ordered and changed his name from Henri St Clair to the anglified version, Henry St Claire.
Jacques had been employed as a member ofThe Black Chamber[8]when he was tapped to replace spies who had been caught in England. He had been charged to discover why the English were so successful at identifying and apprehending French agents as well. In the first, he had been very successful in recruiting men to give him intelligence to send to the emperor, and as he remained in service, no one ever suspected him of being the man in charge. The second one, he had not discovered even a whisper. He hated failing in that area, but he was at leastsatisfied with the gold mine of intelligence they had been gaining from Wickham. Yes, that man was not leaving his post until he had outlived his usefulness and would then be dispatched to hell.
Two men were on their way to Bedford within the hour. They would deliver the message to Wickham. They would use the stick and then offer an additional carrot, something the avaricious fool would never see.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The Saturday before the regiment was to move to Meryton, Wickham was on his way back to his lodgings from the local tavern, where he had been enjoying some liquid refreshment.
As he passed a dark alleyway, Wickham felt a hand clamp over his mouth, and he was roughly pulled into the darkness. Before he could react, three hard blows were delivered to his belly, causing him to purge all of the grog he had just enjoyed. The hand over his mouth had released just as he was about to cast up his accounts. As soon as he was done, and before he could yell for help, a cloth was shoved into his mouth, making it impossible for him to summon assistance.
One of the attackers came close so that his face was inches from Wickham’s. His breath stank, and Wickham had to fight to keep from being sick all over again from the foul odour emanating from the ruffian’s mouth.
“Zis is a message from Monsieur St Claire,” the man growled in a low voice with a heavy French accent. “You ‘ave been committing treason, so one word and you will ‘ang. If we suspect you are to tell anyone, we will end you! Also, the monsieur never burnt your debts. It was only some blank paper.Remember where ‘e found you. So you will remain in your post and send reports like you ‘ave been doing. If you do so until Monsieur St Claire not need it anymore, ‘e will double your reward.”
The man removed the gag but had a knife in his hand and Wickham had no doubt what would happen if he called out. He had been committing treason so he was trapped between being executed or murdered by these Frenchmen if he stopped sending reports. On the other hand, if he kept doing what he had been doing, he was looking at thirty thousand pounds. After hearing that St Claire never destroyed his debt markers, Wickham’s survival instincts told him he would be unlikely to ever see the money. He would have to find a way out, a way to disappear, but for now, he had to make these men believe that he was happy to continue his work on their behalf and was very satisfied with the amount of his reward being doubled.
“As I will be forever grateful to St Claire for rescuing me from King’s Bench, and I am keen to earn the thirty thousand pounds, I will happily continue my work for him,” Wickham stated.
“Remember, we will be watching. Try anything and…” The man drew his forefinger across his throat, leaving no doubt what he would do.
Wickham felt the man who had been holding his arms release him. The men melted away into the darkness. It was then that he cast up his accounts once again from the fear which gripped him. There was no choice; he would continue to send his reports until he found a way out, and that would, hopefully, be sooner rather than later.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The militia regiment arrived in Meryton in the afternoon of the final Monday in October. Many residents stood watching the officers and men marching smartly towards the encampment at the other end of the town, just past the stables run by the town’s blacksmith. They were lining Meryton’s main road in anticipation. This included young ladies with romantic notions of marrying an officer, merchants thinking of their increased sales, and matrons looking for candidates suitable to marry their unwed daughters. Thanks to the war, there was a dearth of marriage-aged men in the area surrounding Meryton. Hence, so many newly arriving men were a boon to their matchmaking aspirations.
None of the Bennets were present to see the regiment strut into the town. The youngest three Bennets were busy with their lessons while Mary and Gigi were practising on the pianoforte. Elizabeth would not have had any interest in seeing the men march into Meryton anyway, but even had she been interested, she was far too busy speaking to her betrothed.
The Hursts and Bingley were visiting in addition to Darcy. Bingley was sitting in the music room watching and listening to the young ladies making sweet music. Mrs Jenkinson was also present to act as a chaperone. Bennet and Fanny were with those in the drawing room.
Hurst looked at Louisa, who nodded to him. He cleared his throat, and everyone in the drawing room looked at him. “I know none of the Bennet sisters are among those who will swoon when they see an officer in his scarlet coat; however, I feel it incumbent on myself to warn you about the danger in trusting some of the officers, one in particular.”
“Mrs Annesley, please ask Mrs Jenkinson to send Mary and Gigi to the drawing room, and then tell your sister werequire Catherine, Lydia, and Tommy to be present,” Fanny requested.
The companion stood and went to execute the mistress’s orders.
“Tommy?” Bennet enquired.
“Yes, I want him to hear this too. He is very excited about the soldiers and officers coming into our town, thanks to the games he plays with Arthur and his cousins. If there are untrustworthy men here, Tommy needs to know as well,” Fanny explained.
It was less than ten minutes later when those who had been summoned were present.
“Hurst, if you please,” Bennet prompted.
“As you all know a regiment of the Derbyshire Militia is arriving in Meryton as we speak,” Hurst began.”
“Soldiers and officers!” Tommy exclaimed. “I would have liked to be in Meryton to see them march into the town while some of the officers rode on their chargers, just like the toy soldiers we play with.”
“These officers do not ride chargers, as they do not fight in the war,” Hurst explained. “There is a big difference between men in the regulars and those in the militia. You know that your brother, Richard, used to be in the army, do you not?” He watched as Tommy nodded emphatically. “He was in the Royal Dragoons, not the militia. Officers and soldiers in the regulars are professional and honourable. The militia officers are, for the most part, second and third sons in want of an occupation who are appointed by the Lord Lieutenant in their home county. They have none of the training men in the regulars have.”
“So, these are pretend soldiers like the ones Arthur, Eddy, Peter, and I play with?” Tommy questioned.
“Except for the fact they are alive and not toys made of metal or wood. But otherwise, yes, that is correct, Tommy,” Hurst responded. He hated seeing the youngest Bennet’s face fall, but he needed to be put on his guard. The last thing anyone needed was Tommy being taken as a hostage in order to ransom back to the Bennets by trusting the wrong man. “But, it is more than that. Not all men in the militia are honourable.” He looked at Darcy. “In fact, some of them areparasites.”
“Wickham,” Darcy spat out. “Are you telling me he is one of the men in the arriving regiment?” Based on past experience, Darcy knew better than to ask Hurst how he knew Wickham was in the militia.
