by Glenna Mason
“Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“The Spring Station of course.”
“The waters are too cold, Darcy.”
“What we are after will not extend any coolness on our arrival.”
“Oh, of course,” Bingley said, finally comprehending.
*****
Darcy and Bingley saddled Midnight on the Moor and Prince of the Moon and clattered briskly across the brick stable yard.
“Lead the way, Maestro.”
Fifteen minutes later Darcy and Bingley stood in a stand of trees, overlooking the Spring Station out building.
“No one is sight, Bingley.”
“Does it matter? There are two of us.” Bingley pointed to his firearm. “I rather hoped the villain would be here.”
“We don’t want the ladies hurt.”
“If they’re there.”
“If they are not, we go to plans B and C. Some building within a short curricle ride houses the Misses Bennets. We will find it. I so decree,” Darcy added with a laugh.
“Let’s go. Quietly.”
Darcy knocked on the door. “Miss Elizabeth,” he called.
A banging came from within.
“Bravo,” Darcy almost cheered. “Please stand back from the door, ladies.” With that Darcy ran at the door with his shoulder, while Bingley kicked with all of his might. The door crashed open, half falling from its hinges.
Elizabeth flew into Darcy’s arms, tears pouring from her hazel eyes. “My hero,” she acclaimed.
Mary and Jane hugged Bingley. “Our heroes!” they exclaimed, beaming with relief.
Darcy held Elizabeth at arm’s length. “Miss Elizabeth,” he said with a grin, “how nice to see you again. I believe you stood me up for our rendezvous at the stream this morning.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Darcy,” she said smiling broadly. “Never again. What time is it anyway?”
“Eleven or thereabouts,” Bingley happily chimed in.
Darcy thumped himself on the head. “Oh, no!” The other four stared in his direction. “Ladies, we didn’t think far enough ahead, when we came to your rescue. We only have Midnight and Prince, whom you will have to straddle. I’m the one that’s sorry.”
“Gentlemen, just get us away from here before that monster returns,” Jane begged. “We’ll gladly ride any way that you wish.”
So Mary and Elizabeth were lifted onto Midnight on the Moors, and Jane onto Prince of the Moon. Darcy and Bingley led the horses along the path by their bridles.
“Mr. Darcy, please do not lead us through Meryton,” Elizabeth requested.
“Certainly not. We’ll just cut across the pastures to Longbourn. Your father is frantic.”
“Why?” Mary asked.
“Why is he frantic?”
“No, why did that madman lock us up in the Spring Station dressing room?”
“Ransom.”
“Ransom for us. Why?” Mary asked. “Papa has no money.”
Darcy quickly answered, “Perhaps the kidnapper was misinformed.”
“Oh, I suppose so.”
“How did you find us?”
Darcy pointed to Bingley’s head. “Simple deduction.”
“Oh, naturally,” Elizabeth, finally at ease, said from her perch atop the giant stallion. “Don’t let it go to your head, Mr. Bingley.”
“Actually . . . “
“Bingley!”
“Actually it was Darcy and I together.”
Elizabeth smirked. She had a pretty good idea who was the problem solver in that duo. However, since she was ecstatically grateful to both, there was no reason to query them further. They were both brilliant in her book.
*****
The quintet arrived at Longbourn in time for lunch. The household thundered into an immediate uproar, when the sisters were helped from the stallions. Kitty rushed through the vestibule and kissed each sister multiple times. Mr. Bennet stood in his library in a state of pure astonishment, tears running down his face, before exiting to hug each daughter in order of her birth. Mrs. Bennet fainted. Mr. Hill carried her upstairs, followed closely by Mrs. Hill and the smelling salts. Lydia flounced around trying to draw attention, flirting first with Bingley and then with Darcy.
“Where?” was all Mr. Bennet could manage.
“Locked up in the Spring Station changing house” was Bingley’s succinct response.
“Mr. Bennet, could we assist you in helping the ladies to their rooms? They are in need of rest and . . .” He looked at Elizabeth. She nodded. Words were no longer required. “And sustenance,” Darcy continued. “Perhaps some tea and toast with preserves. Oh, and a selection of fruit.”
“Immediately.” Mr. Bennet summoned Julia, the parlor maid, to see to the refreshments, after which he, Bingley and Darcy assisted the trio to their rooms. Elizabeth smiled at Darcy and Bingley, as she closed her bedroom door. Jane and Mary did the same. Julia and Kenneth, the footman, arrived with three trays and entered each bedroom with the treats.
“Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, please join me in the breakfast room. We can talk in peace there today. Everyone’s above.”
A platter of eggs, ham and toasted English muffins soon arrived at the table, along with tea and coffee.
“Please accept my sincerest appreciation.”
“Mr. Bennet, we do not need your thanks. I am the cause of this debacle. It is I who must ask your daughters’ forgiveness.” Mr. Bennet nodded, understanding that Darcy wanted to accept the blame.
“Please enlighten me as to what took place this morning after you left us,” Mr. Bennet said, after the footman exited the room.
“I described a particular type of hideaway. Bingley apprehended the Spring Station straightaway.”
“We went there quite excited, anticipating success,” Bingley explained. “So excited in fact, we forgot to take horses for the ladies.” Bingley chuckled.
“We would have been sorely upset, if the ladies had not been found.”
“Now, Darcy, that is not totally accurate. Disappointed, yes. Upset, no. We had already decided to select other similar environs. Our search would have continued.”
“How did he get in? I assume the shack was locked.”
“I imagine he removed the city’s lock with some sort of device he stole from the militia’s blacksmith’s shop. Then he replaced it with a latch of his own, easily lifted from the storage room of the militia headquarters. Mr. Wickham never buys what he can commandeer,” Darcy declared.
“I’m sure you remember, Mr. Bennet, that there are no windows in the dressing room. All he had to do was to make sure the room was stripped of anything which could batter the doors,” Bingley added.
“Yes, all we found were blankets, a canteen with no water left and saddlebags, with the remnants of cheese and bread.”
“The girls seemed exhausted. I’m only glad they had each other. It would have been more devastating, if he’d kidnapped only one of them,” Mr. Bennet predicted.
“As Bingley mentioned already, we left in such a high state of anticipation that we neglected to take horses for the ladies. They had to ride astride ours. That was uncomfortable. The journey bestride a frisky stallion probably added to their weariness and fatigue.”
“It’s fine, young man. You two have saved my daughters. If only I could repay you. I . . . “
“Mr. Bennet, we are grateful that the Misses Bennets are safe. That is remuneration enough for a lifetime.”
“Let’s go home, Darcy. I’m ready for bed.”
“Yes, I agree. Our bank drafts should arrive, while we’re asleep. Let’s be sure to warn Chambers to wake us.”
“Assuredly.”
Darcy and Bingley rose from the table, as did Mr. Bennet. They shook hands warmly. “Please tell Miss Elizabeth that I will call soon to set a new time for our tryst at the brook. Good-bye, sir.”
“There is one more thing I wonder about,” Mr. Bennet said, when he escorted them to the door.
“
Yes, sir?”
“Where are my curricle and my two horses?”
CHAPTER FIVE
“Where are the curricle and the horses, Darcy?” Bingley queried, while he and Darcy rode home from Longbourn.
“Wickham may have wanted them nearby so he could transport the ladies back to somewhere near Longbourn once he got the ransom—or maybe not. Who knows?”
“I’d bet he’s been riding one of the mares.”
“Bareback?”
“He probably stole a saddle from the base.”
“Exactly, Bingley. Why didn’t I think of that? Stole it and brought it with him. He did have the trailer to cart anything he wanted to the kidnapping site.”
“Come to think of it that imprint on the ground resembled a saddle. At the time I just thought it was someone with an awfully large bottom.”
“And that wouldn’t fit our villain. And as to the curricle, I’d bet it is out of sight behind the Spring Station shack and the horses are grazing in a field nearby.”
“Or tied to a tree. We’d better go back, Darcy. The horses could be in jeopardy.”
“Yes, I guess we must. Good-bye to any bedtime today.”
Veering off the main path to avoid the village, the two riders took a short cut across the fields, arriving at the Spring Station after a ten minute sprint. Behind the small structure, they found the curricle, partially obscured by grey army blankets. The search for the horse or horses began. Luckily Wickham had not tied them to a tree behind the building. So Bingley and Darcy spread out on horseback to check the outlying pastures. Finally Darcy heard Bingley shout, “I found one. I’ve got her by the halter.”
“Bring her on over. I imagine Wickham has hidden the harness under the blankets covering the curricle.”
Sure enough the harness was in the curricle. “Good! She can pull the curricle back to Longbourn for us. It should not be too heavy for one horse, when there are no passengers.”
“No, it shouldn’t. We can use one of our bridles for a lead and ride alongside her.”
They continued their search of the pastures for another ten minutes, finally deciding that Wickham had kept one of the mares. He did need transportation, after all, for his note delivering.
Then for the third or fourth time in the past seven or eight hours, Darcy and Bingley headed back to Longbourn. “We need to avoid Meryton again. Our current entourage would certainly set the gossips’ tongues wagging.”
“Back to the fields then. We have to find gates. This could take a while.”
“Well, yes, I’d say so.”
*****
A full hour later the curricle pulled up to the front door of Longbourn. A stable lad materialized from nowhere.
“Bessie, gal, y’ere home.”
“Please take her and the curricle to the stable yard and the carriage house.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh, and feed her some oats. She earned them, by pulling that curricle across lumpy pastures.”
“But, sir, where’s Callie?”
“We’re not sure, son.”
“Shall we just head home?”
“There is only one thing I’d like to request of Mr. Bennet.”
“Oh?”
“But then again, I’m exhausted. I’ll send a note over.”
However, at that moment Mr. Bennet emerged from the front door, having seen from his library window the curricle pass by the side of the house.
“Good morning again, sir.”
“Good morning, Mr. Bennet,” Bingley said. “We were worried about Callie and Bessie, so we went back the Spring Station.”
“Thank you. I saw Bessie. And Callie?”
“We presume that Wickham kept her to ride. She’ll turn up in a field somewhere once he discovers the ladies are missing from his hiding place.”
“Probably.”
“Speaking of Wickham, have you received the second chapter of the ransom phenomenon yet?
“No, I imagine he’ll bring it at night, when he can better obscure his identity?” Mr. Bennet said.
“Or send it by some feckless lad,” Bingley suggested.
“Either, or just post it,” Darcy concluded.
“Yes! That’s what I’d do. Safest!”
“Will you get down and come into my library for a cup of cheer.”
“No!” both men said emphatically. Then Darcy added, “We’re off to bed.”
“Good rest of your day then. Happy dreams. I’m going to take a lengthy nap myself this afternoon—just about the time Mrs. Bennet gets up.” He chortled.
*****
Allen woke Darcy at three with the news that Cliff was asking to see him.
“Good! I was expecting him about now,” Darcy said cheerily, after looking at his pocket watch on the side table by his bed.
“He’s quite upset. Mr. Bingley is already in the foyer with Jerry.”
“What?”
“Yes, sir. I’m afraid so, sir.”
“What now?” Darcy complained.
Darcy sprang from the bed and pulled his pants on over his nightshirt. Within a minute he was halfway down the front staircase, his bedroom slippers flapping.
He saw Bingley listening in aghast horror to Jerry’s recital.
“Mr. Darcy, sir,” Cliff said in stentorian tones, racing to meet Darcy at the bottom of the steps, “We wuz robbed.”
“Robbed? How!”
“I’m ‘fraid so, Mr. Darcy. ‘Twere on the London Road about five miles out of Meryton by a masked gunman.”
“Wickham,” Bingley snorted, coming to connect with Darcy at the foot of the staircase.
“He must have gone by the Spring Station to check on the Bennet sisters,” Darcy said.
“No doubt he was up at dawn, perusing Netherfield from the far rise, to make sure you and I sent riders to London,” Bingley said, bewailing his fate.
“Probably. Then back to the militia headquarter for an innocent looking breakfast with the soldiers. March around all morning, and then sneak off to check on his captives during the chaos of lunchtime mess.”
“What were we thinking?”
“We were too tired to think.”
“It was bad enough losing 30,000 pounds to extricate the young ladies, but to let that scoundrel have it for nothing is horrific. What will we do now?”
“Why, put a stop on the bank drafts, of course. They’re not actually cash.”
“Until they’re cashed.”
Darcy turned to Cliff, who was standing to the side during the previous harangue. “What time did the masked man attack you, Cliff?”
“About two, sir. We came straight here, as soon as he hightailed it back toward the city.”
“London?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Two o’clock. Good. The banks close religiously at four.”
“A reprieve—he’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”
“Yes, and we’ll be there first.”
“Darcy, he might have been pulling a subterfuge. As soon as our footmen were out of sight, Wickham might have circled back to Meryton.”
“Now, Bingley, Wickham may be demented, but he is not a maniac. Do you think village banks have thirty thousand pounds sitting around ready to hand out to just any customer who might drop in with bank drafts? And if the Meryton Bank was inclined to cash the bank drafts, they’d hardly turn that kind of money over to George Wickham without contacting us first.”
“Why not?”
“The bank drafts might be fraudulent, a forgery. Then they’d be bankrupt.” Darcy smiled at the thought. “A bankrupt bank—how seemly. Now do you think any village bank would risk that?”
“I hope not.”
“Wickham is known in Meryton. Even the shop girl disparaged him. He’d not risk it.”
“How would we have been able to obtain the ransom funds then?”
“Oh, we’d have personally cashed them for him to get the ladies back safe. He knew that.”
“Then will the L
ondon banks cash them?”
“I’d say so. All they probably require is our signature and a verification from our branch that the funds are solid. Our signatures are our credit. They don’t know Wickham and so would probably consider him a gentleman we’re doing business with. He’ll have concocted some storyline like investments in the West Indies.”
“Then we’re off to London.”
“Yes, Thank the Lord we got a nap.”
“Some nap,” Bingley retorted sarcastically.
*****
After securing a pledge of secrecy on the matter of the theft from Cliff, Jerry and Chambers, the gentlemen and their valets took a carriage to London. The pair were just too exhausted to go on horseback and time was not of the essence. So they decided to travel to London in the luxury of Bingley’s most elegant conveyance. They had to be at their banks tomorrow morning at nine. This evening they were at their leisure.
As they rumbled along the London Road, Bingley asked, “How does Wickham expect to get away with this? He must know our men would immediately report the robbery.”
“He either hopes to beat us to the bank or find someone to cash the drafts at a discount tonight.”
“What?”
“If he is desperate, say because of the pressure of overdue gambling debts, then he might try to con a fellow swindler into a big commission by cashing the drafts.”
“Unbelievable.”
“It is a risky business, because if we are successful in stopping the payment of the drafts, Wickham’s life would be forfeit. Professional gamblers do not take kindly to losing large amounts of money.”
“He’ll leave the country at once.”
“He’ll have to, but can he? That will weigh heavily on Wickham’s mind. I doubt he will risk it.”
“And if we don’t reach the banks in time tomorrow? Wickham will be there when the doors open.”
“We are right back where we started—providing ransom for the Bennet sisters.”
“Easier for Wickham in the long run. He doesn’t have to risk sending a second note or releasing the sisters.”
“True, and he has no idea that we are on to him, so he won’t even have to leave the country.”
*****
At nine sharp the next morning the two friends arrived at their respective banks to issue formal reversals of the bank drafts, that they’d requested just one day earlier. Their solicitors accompanied Darcy and Bingley to the bank offices to insure that all the paperwork was specifically legal. Runners were sent to all branches to facilitate compliance.