The man seemed slightly puzzled, but complied, and hurried off to bring his whisky. Richard settled down to try and look industrious while he waited for Darcy to arrive from Gardiner’s Import Emporium. He would not have to wait long, Darcy had regularly arrived here, his long legs carrying him through the outer door into this very room. Richard wondered what he did during the long evenings. The man assigned to follow him had reported that he did not go out at night.
Did he sit in this room, talking to the others who tarried here? Did he stay in his chamber, studying? Mrs. Gardiner had said he worked very hard. Richard smiled to himself. Darcy was an unsociable fellow, to be sure. But a decade of sitting in a small inn chamber would surely pall very quickly?
He huffed a laugh. He knew Darcy to be determinedly single-minded. He would certainly do so if he had decided it was for the best. But it would drive Richard to distraction within a very few days, he knew.
He leaned forward over his papers; a few more moments until his cousin would stride into the room, and Richard still didn’t know how to greet him. He pursed his lips. Would Darcy welcome his intervention?
Ten minutes later, he was becoming concerned. Darcy was later than expected. Had something happened? Had he taken fright? And if so, where would he have gone?
He sat, undecided. He must wait a little longer, in case. While he sat there, he saw a much older, wizened little man enter the bar area and speak to the innkeeper. From the deference the younger man showed him, Richard surmised him to be the owner, perhaps a relation. Unashamedly, he tried to listen, but he couldn’t make out any of the conversation, save a few words.
“No, we will keep that chamber for him until he says otherwise.”
Did it mean Darcy was gone? Richard regretted not having taken more care not to be seen. But Darcy had not seen him before this morning, of that, he was certain. He frowned, and in an instant, the innkeeper was with him.
“Is all to your satisfaction, sir? More whisky?”
Richard nodded. “I would be grateful. Thank you.” He didn’t think he ought to mention Darcy just yet. If he was indeed gone, he must try and find out where he was. It would be insupportable to lose him again.
Ten minutes later, he banged the door behind him, strode out of the inn and waved for his horse. He must carry news of his failure to his parents. He couldn’t contemplate losing Darcy now.
15
William looked around him with interest as the coach rumbled on into Hertfordshire. Apart from his journey north a month ago, he’d had no opportunity for leisurely travel, and on that occasion, he’d had matters of business to occupy his mind.
He leaned back and took a few deep breaths, wondering what the life of a gentleman might really be like. He smiled, despite the deep concern within him. It had been fortunate he’d received another letter last week from Charles Bingley, excitedly giving him news of the business, and the respect his foreman felt for William’s own man, who’d arrived in the north just a few weeks earlier.
I meant what I said when we met, Mr. Stoke! You must join me at my estate, and we can shoot together. We’re only a small party here, and I would welcome the opportunity to learn more of the business from you. I understand you’re busy and may not be able to stay long, but you’re welcome for as long as you wish.
William had smiled as he’d shown the letter to Gardiner, who’d smiled oddly when he read it.
“You ought to go sometime, William. You need some time to rest.” But he’d agreed it ought, perhaps, to wait until their current business was properly arranged.
But everything had changed yesterday, when Miss Bennet had fairly dragged him into her uncle’s office. Gardiner had been very serious. He’d sent his niece from the room and sat William down, asking a set of very pertinent questions. Finally, he’d sat back.
“Well, I think we will wait until next month to arrange our business. You will go at once and stay with Bingley. Two weeks should suffice to put this man off your trail, if you’re right that he is familiar to you. If he comes to see me, I can say I do not know the direction where you are to be found, as I cannot be expected to remember precisely what Bingley’s letter said.”
He sat up straighter. “We will go now, together, to your lodgings, and you will collect your belongings — this officer can’t be expecting you to return there this early in the day. Then you will take my coach to Hertfordshire, so there will be no trail at the post for them to follow. Neither will there be a hired hack driver to bribe.”
Gardiner smiled ruthlessly, the same smile as when he thought he was about to win a business contract, and William had smiled reluctantly in return.
“I won’t get there very early.”
“No. Stay at an inn overnight, in the manner of a gentleman. Send an express to Bingley now, so he has some warning of your arrival tomorrow morning.” Gardiner had hesitated. “When you do return, come here. We will travel together each day, and you will stay with me until we can make safer arrangements.”
William had nodded. In the few hours he had remaining, he managed to speak briefly to Miss Bennet, which was important to him.
“I wanted to thank you for listening to my concerns, Miss Bennet. I’m still not convinced I am not being too melodramatic in my suppositions.”
She’d laughed, the light sound filling him with a strange warmth. “I hope you enjoy your stay, Mr. Stoke. I will be interested to hear of your adventures when you return.” She smiled mischievously. “Gentle adventures are much less unsettling than those you have been forced to endure in the past.”
Then her expression had turned steely. “My uncle will not permit anyone to find out where you have gone. You will be safe, whoever they are. They will not have expected you to have left town.”
He’d nodded. “It is the right thing to do, while I try to come to terms with what might be.” He sighed. “Perhaps I am speaking out of turn when I say it is for quite another reason that I am sorry to be leaving for the country at this moment.”
She’d understood him, for a slight flush graced her cheeks, and his heart swelled.
He’d seen nothing suspicious as he’d rolled out of town. His overnight stay at an inn outside Aldenham had been uneventful, as he’d expected, and he’d taken the opportunity to stroll alongside the river after breakfast before setting off again for Netherfield Park.
His mind was full of Miss Bennet as his journey continued. She had listened to him. She hadn’t ridiculed him for his concern, and she’d noticed things were amiss before he’d said anything.
He wondered if he could ever win her heart. Perhaps his increasing wealth might mean she would become attainable to him, although he knew nothing of her family; finding she was far more inclined to talk of matters of business to him than about her home situation.
He tried to push thoughts of her from his mind as he neared his destination, and was fairly composed when the coach drew up in front of a large, comfortable-looking country home. He stepped down, feeling rather fraudulent, as the junior coachman held the door for him, and he nodded, unsmiling.
“Thank you. Wait.”
He turned to the steps. Bingley was bounding down towards him. “Might I have permission for the servants to rest before they return to London?”
“Of course!” Bingley waved negligently at the coach, and the coachman touched his hat before they rolled away to the yard at the back of the house.
Bingley turned to the house. “Come in, man! I’m so pleased you’ve arrived.” He led the way through the great doors. “Let me introduce the party.”
William followed him through to the great drawing room, trying not to stare around him. This would be his life, should he accumulate enough wealth to become a gentleman. His lips twitched. Miss Bennet would be very at home here, he thought.
He was not surprised when Bingley introduced him as his business partner to his sisters and brother-in-law. He wouldn’t want his new friend to mislead his relations, he supposed.
Miss
Bingley was cool and distant to him, but he wasn’t dismayed, instead finding himself seated beside the other gentleman, who asked for the latest news from London.
William watched the two ladies as they talked desultorily about trivial things. He was amused. They certainly thought themselves well above their station, considering they were daughters of a tradesman.
“I hope you don’t mind my introducing you as I did.” Bingley’s voice was very low. “Otherwise Caroline would be quite a nuisance to you, looking, as you do, a wealthy gentleman.”
There was a snort of amusement from Hurst, the brother-in-law, and William smiled reluctantly. “I ought, perhaps, to have worn my oldest suit.” He wondered what sort of reaction he would have elicited if he’d mentioned the ancient breeches and shirt he’d begun his stable lad career with. But it would not do. The habit of secrecy was ingrained too firmly within him. There was no one here who needed the details of his past, such as he knew of it, and the fewer who did, the better.
Rather amused by the exaggerated sighs of boredom from Miss Bingley, he turned his mind to join the conversation regarding the shooting party they would make up the following morning.
It was a few days later, over the port, that he broached the subject of his return to London.
“I’ve had a very enjoyable stay, Bingley, but I feel I ought to return to London in a few days. I’ve had some further thoughts which I would like to add to the leaflets before they go to the printers, and would need to discuss them with Mr. Gardiner as soon as possible.” He smiled over at his new friend. “It will be a very good business we have.”
“Indeed it will!” Bingley turned to his brother-in-law. “I believe the returns will far outstrip the four per cents from my father’s investments.”
Hurst nodded. “From what Bingley has told me, Mr. Stoke, I think you will soon be able to begin investing in gilts to amass security enough for a family. You’ve done very well.”
William dipped his head. “I have been fortunate in my mentor, and being given the freedom to discover this possible market.”
“I understand your need to return to London, although I’m dismayed at your need to leave here so soon.” Bingley poured another glass of port and passed the decanter to him. “Perhaps, as well as more shooting, we could undertake some fishing before you go?”
“I would enjoy that.” William passed the decanter on to Hurst without pouring himself another. “I will need to find a chaise to hire to convey me to London on the appointed day.” He felt a sudden distaste at the thought of taking the post.
Bingley laughed. “If you stay another two days, you can take my coach on Thursday.” He gave him a sly glance. “You cannot have more work to do. Why not take an evening and come with us to the local entertainment? Some of the townspeople are gathering at the apartments of the attorney in Meryton. The young ladies are very pretty, and I’m sure your appearance will attract much interest.”
William shuddered. “I would be grateful for the use of your coach and undertake to send it straight back to you, but I would beg you not to press me on attending the gathering. I would not relish the attention.”
He’d been resolute in his refusal to attend any of the local entertainments that Bingley obviously so much enjoyed, but he was still very suspicious of being seen by too many people, which combined with his innate dislike of social occasions.
“Well, I will allow it for now.” Bingley half-smiled. “But it will not be many months before our friendship is stronger, and then I will insist on it!”
William nodded. “Perhaps.”
16
Richard Fitzwilliam looked at the facade of Gardiner’s Import Emporium. Several days of searching the area, and his man also observing Darcy’s known routes, had led him — increasingly desperate — to another long discussion with his parents. Now, the next morning, he was here.
He could think of no other way to find his cousin, and he dreaded finding that Darcy was gone, might yet be in danger, and he would be unable to help. Again.
He tightened his jaw; this man must know where Darcy was. He must be careful, convince him that he had Darcy’s well-being as his main concern.
He crossed the road suddenly, his mind made up. Both clerks leaped to their feet as he entered.
“Good morning, Colonel.” The older man spoke. “How might we be of assistance?” He bowed deeply.
Richard nodded at them both. “I need to speak to Mr. Gardiner urgently, if you please, on a matter of great importance.”
The man bowed again, and hurried towards his master’s office. Richard waited, knowing his uniform and military posture was an advantage to him.
The small clerk was back, his forehead shiny, and his manner nervous. “Mr. Gardiner wishes to know on what manner of business you are here.” His tone was apologetic and servile. Richard felt rather sorry for him.
“Please tell Mr. Gardiner it is personal and private. Tell him I apologise very much for disturbing his work today, but I would be grateful for a few moments of his time.” Richard forced his words into a polite request. His instinct was to stride in and — if necessary — shake the truth out of the man.
But it wouldn’t work. The investigations he’d had done told him Gardiner was unlikely to be so easily intimidated. It would have made Richard feel better, though. He smiled humourlessly.
“Please come this way, Colonel.” The clerk had reappeared, and Richard nodded and followed him. The first obstacle had been overcome.
Gardiner was standing beside his desk, unsmiling. “Good morning. How might I be of assistance?”
Richard bowed. “Thank you for agreeing to see me. I wish to ask for your assistance with a sensitive matter.”
Gardiner nodded. “My clerk is arranging tea for us. Might you do me the honour of introducing yourself?”
Richard grimaced. “My apologies, Mr. Gardiner. I am Richard Fitzwilliam.” It was all too easy to keep saying what he’d wanted to for so long. The rest of his words came out in a rush. “I was … I am cousin to Fitzwilliam Darcy — once my closest friend. We lost him. Lost him twelve years ago, when he was but a youth of fifteen, full of promise and hope for the future.”
The older man looked taken aback. Perhaps he’d thought his caller would demand information and divulge none himself.
Richard dropped into the chair previously indicated to him, and rubbed his forehead. “I saw him on …” he stopped suddenly, as the door opened and the younger clerk carefully carried in a tray of tea things. Richard watched him morosely. The presence of the tea meant he was not about to be unceremoniously ejected, which was good, but it also meant he might not find out what he wanted very quickly.
“You saw him on …?” Gardiner prompted him quietly when they were alone again.
“Yes.” Richard looked up. “I saw him on Friday, but he observed me and seemed taken aback.” He rose to his feet and paced the room. “I returned the same evening to his lodgings, but he didn’t return.” He turned to face the businessman. “I know he came here each day. Tell me he’s safe.” He tried to keep the pleading note out of his voice.
“Sit down, Colonel.” Gardiner offered him the cup of tea, and waited until Richard had taken his seat and the tea. “There is no one by the name of Darcy who works here.” He raised his hand to forestall Richard’s instinctive reply. “Oh, now you have told me the name, I recall the reports in the papers at the time. But …”
There was a long silence while he seemed to ponder. Finally, he drew a breath and straightened to face his guest. “Tell me — so I know we are talking about the same man — when you saw him last, where was he, what was he doing, and who was he with?”
Richard knew this was a test. He also knew Gardiner wouldn’t tell him anything if he wasn’t convinced it would be in Darcy’s best interests — and his view of what his cousin’s best interests were might be very different to Richard’s.
He smiled slightly. “Darcy? He was in the small park just across the road f
rom here. He was sitting on a bench, talking earnestly to a young lady when he saw me.” He grimaced. “He drew her attention to me, and I turned and rode away swiftly.”
“And why did you do that, if you thought he recognised you?”
The question took Richard by surprise. He shook his head. “I couldn’t approach him — he was in the company of the young lady. And he looked discomposed. I didn’t want to frighten him away.”
“It doesn’t sound as if you were surprised to see him,” Gardiner said mildly. “It can’t have been the first time you saw him in twelve years.” His eyes were astute, and Richard sighed.
“No, you’re right. I saw him last week, and have been trying to work out the best time and place to approach him.” Richard tried to think how to convince this man to divulge where his cousin was.
“You’ve seen him several times, in fact, and you’ve been observing him.” Gardiner’s voice was unemotional.
“How do you know?” Richard jumped to his feet. This wasn’t what he’d expected when he anticipated this conversation.
Gardiner sipped his tea calmly. “Sit down, Colonel. If the man I think you’re talking about is indeed your cousin, and if you want me to assist you; one thing you must take into consideration is that he has reason to be guarded about those from his past.” He smiled slightly. “Your attention has not been unobserved.”
Richard grimaced. “I hope he hasn’t been too alarmed.” He looked up. “Do you know what happened to him?”
Gardiner shook his head. “I’ve only heard part of it, and what I know is not my story to tell. Suffice it to say — he does not think finding his family would mean he is safe.”
Richard slumped back in the chair. “And you suspect me, as I am looking for him.”
Gardiner’s expression didn’t change. “I need to know more before I might facilitate you in your search.”
The Lost Heir Page 7