by Head, Gail
“As you have seen, I know very little of distant relatives. And as for friends, there are very few men whose company my father enjoys. I have never heard him speak of any friends other than those in Hertfordshire. He leads a very quiet country life, only traveling occasionally on business matters.”
“But there may be someone who you may not have thought of in this light – an old school chum from his university days or a past acquaintance, for instance. You must think! Perhaps there is some small detail you are forgetting!”
“No! I am not forgetting anything, Mr. Darcy! Do you think I have not spent endless nights re-living every moment of those last few days before Lizzy went away, searching for some shred of information that would lead us to her? I am…” her voice caught in her throat, a small sob escaping in its place and Georgiana reached out a comforting hand, frowning at her brother.
Bingley stepped forward at the realization that Jane had gone quite pale. “Darcy, I daresay this is hard enough for Miss Bennet. Shall we give it a bit of a rest for the moment?”
“I quite agree,” Georgiana said and she stood, eyeing Darcy meaningfully. “I think Miss Bennet and I shall take a walk in the gardens. Will you please excuse us?”
“Excellent idea!” Bingley concurred, helping Jane to her feet. “That will give Darcy and me time to discuss some strategy. I think we should try again to trace Miss Elizabeth's movements from the time she left Longbourn. We can inquire at some of the coaching inns farther out. Someone is bound to have seen two women traveling alone. Meanwhile, please know that I shall not rest until we find Miss Elizabeth and bring her home.”
Bingley escorted the two ladies to the door, speaking with confidence even though he knew they had already scoured the countryside and Darcy's disappointing trip to London had eliminated their one clear lead.
Darcy stayed frozen in his place before the sofa where Jane had been sitting, lost in thought. His mind worked furiously to grasp the details of a forgotten memory now freed by something Jane had said. 'He leads a very retired life, only traveling occasionally for business.' Darcy frowned thoughtfully. Perhaps Mr. Bennet's travels had not been purely business.
“Do not despair, dear Jane,” Georgiana soothed in a low tone as they left the room, “I have every confidence my brother and Mr. Bingley will find something soon.”
“Thank you, Mr. Bingley, for what you are doing,” Jane murmured. “I am very grateful and shall never forget your kindness to my family.”
Bingley stood at the door with clenched fists, watching the women stroll slowly down the corridor and out to the gardens. He hated the wall that Jane had placed between them. He missed her tender smile and easy manners that had won his heart so completely. Well, he shook himself mentally, I cannot bring down the wall, but I can take away the sorrow in her eyes by hastening Miss Elizabeth's return – and tempering Darcy's methods.
Closing the door, Bingley turned to see Darcy still deep in thought.
“What were you thinking?” he hissed.
“Hmm?”
“That relentless questioning of Miss Bennet? What were you thinking? You nearly had her in tears!”
“I am sorry,” Darcy offered absently. “That was not my intention. I had hoped she would offer some clue, and I think I have succeeded.”
“Darcy, what do you mean? I heard nothing that would help us find Miss Elizabeth.”
“I did not want to say anything in front of Miss Bennet or Georgiana; however, something was said that got me thinking. Miss Bennet said her father did not do much with social engagements, but he did travel occasionally. That brought to mind an interesting bit of news which until now did not mean anything to me.”
“You have my interest. Please go on.”
“Do you remember that day I was thrown from my horse? While I was lying in the shrubbery, I happened to overhear something interesting. It seems Mr. Bennet is receiving letters from a lady – who is not Mrs. Bennet – by way of a place called Granley Cottage. Do you know it?”
“Yes, I believe I do. It is a cottage on the Bennet estate. Jane mentioned it last fall when we were walking. It was part of the pension given to the widow of their old steward. But what has Mr. Bennet's letters to do with Miss Elizabeth?”
“I have spent the last several days racking my brain for an answer of where she would go if not to Magdalen House. I searched the charity houses in London and could not find any evidence of her. If she did not go to London, she would still need someplace where she was not known but under someone's care. Perhaps Mr. Bennet's trips were not all business. If Mr. Bennet is getting secret letters from a lady, it is very likely he has a paramour. And if he is having an affair on the side, it would make sense for him to send a daughter who is in trouble to the one person who would be both sympathetic and discreet.”
“Good Heavens! You were right not to say anything in front of the ladies. What a shock it would be for Jane, in particular. I will say that I am surprised to find Mr. Bennet has a mistress, but then my life has been full of surprises these past months.”
“For both of us, my friend,” Darcy acknowledged bleakly.
“But this is excellent news!” Bingley brightened. “All we have to do is find Mr. Bennet's doxy and we find Jane's sister!”
“I do not think it as easy as that.”
“Why? What is to stop us now?”
“For one thing, if Mr. Bennet entrusted the widow with his secret, I hardly think she is the kind to willingly give up any information, especially to someone she does not know; and I do not think it wise to give Miss Bennet any more to worry about, especially as regards her father.”
“I certainly do not want to add to her troubles,” Bingley's face darkened again, “but there must be some way to get the information.”
“If you will allow me, I shall have Denham look into it. A servant is much less intimidating than a gentleman in such cases as this. Your staff here at Netherfield are all from the neighborhood and the woman would certainly know them. It is not likely she would risk her pension by bringing further misery down upon the Bennet family.”
“Very well, I see your point, Darcy; but do you really think your man can succeed?”
“Denham is uncommonly skilled when it comes to things like this. I will speak to him right away.” Darcy crossed the room quickly, only pausing at the door long enough to entreat his friend. “Pray for his success, Bingley. We are running out of time.”
* * * *
“Here we are, sir,” Denham looked to the small, thatched cottage standing in the shade of two ancient elms. “Shall I accompany you? The woman is quite disagreeable and not to be trusted.”
“That much is evident. To eavesdrop on your conversation with Mrs. Pennwyth was bad enough; but the fact that she afterwards sought you out with an offer to sell the letters does not speak well of her at all - especially when her own sister had already sworn the letters did not exist.”
“Indeed, sir. She's a foul, grasping creature. That she would betray her own sister's trust for a few coins is quite contemptible.”
“Very true, Denham; but Mattie Wilkins' petty, grasping nature does have its advantages.” Darcy's lips formed a thin line as he contemplated the impending visit. “I expect we should be thankful for small gifts, no matter how unappealing the wrapping.”
“I wouldn't put it past her to try some kind of trick, sir. Perhaps I should go before you, just in case.”
“I think not,” Darcy appraised the cottage carefully. “We have already wasted two precious days with the unbending Mrs. Pennwyth and two more arranging for this meeting. I will not wait another minute. Just stay here and keep watch, I should not be long.”
“Very good, sir.” Denham replied, stilling his horse as Darcy took a basket of food from him and urged his own horse forward.
Shifting the hamper to rest on his leg, Darcy approached the cottage. The small assortment of food was more for the benefit of any curious eyes that might observe his visit rather than a d
esire to assist the two widows. The behavior of both sisters had driven Darcy to distraction; but he was taking great pains to make this visit appear to be a charitable one. To engender any more gossip relating to Elizabeth or her family would be disastrous; something he wanted desperately to avoid.
When he knocked at the door, it was opened almost immediately by a short, thin woman whose face did indeed match what he had imagined that day he heard her talking on the road from Meryton. Although he had never actually met the woman before now, her shrewd, assessing expression told him Denham had been right – she was not to be trusted.
“Matilda Wilkins?”
“Mr. Darcy,” she stated matter-of-factly. “You'd better come in.”
The woman's size and sprightly step belied the age in her face as she led him into the tiny sitting room. Gesturing for Darcy to take the only comfortable chair in the room, she perched herself on a small wooden chair opposite him, a slight apprehension about her.
“I thought you were coming sooner. I don't have much time before my sister gets back.”
“This should not take long. You know the reason for my coming.” Darcy held the basket out to her. “I also brought a few things for you and your sister as a token of my goodwill.”
“Mighty kind of you, I'm sure,” Mattie sniffed, taking the basket from him without looking in it. “But I am interested in more than a hamper of victuals.”
“Yes, I am sure you are; and since you are obviously anxious to begin, I shall get right to the point. You have some letters I want. What is your price?”
“Aha, I knew it!” her eyes gleamed with pleasure. “A right proper man of business. Yes, Mr. Darcy, letters have come to Granley Cottage. Letters that would put the last nail in the coffin of the Bennet family, to be sure.”
“Your price, Miss Wilkins,” Darcy reminded her.
“Well, now. What would it be worth, do ye think?”
“I will give you ten pounds.”
“Oh, no!” she laughed disdainfully. “I have it on good account that you are worth more than ten thousand a year! I don't know what your part is in this business – and I don't care – but the letters seem mighty important to you. Two hundred pound.”
“Ridiculous! What would you do with that sum of money?”
“I'm a poor spinster, Mr. Darcy; cheated in life and now forced to share my sister's pension, poor as it is. If the Bennets are ruined, it isn't likely the new master of Longbourn would let us stay. We have to look to our future. I'll take a hundred and fifty pound.”
“Your situation is unfortunate, indeed. However, Mr. Bennet's health is still uncertain. If he fails to recover, the pension would still be lost and the letters would then be worthless to you. I will give you thirty pounds.”
“Thirty pound? I'll not betray the trust for thirty pound, no sir! I'm no Judas. It'll be a hundred and thirty or nothing,” she countered with the skill of a practiced negotiator.
As distasteful as the woman was, Darcy thought of Mrs. Pennwyth and what would happen to her should things turn out badly. He gave the sister a hard look. “One hundred pounds and not a penny more. Take it or leave it.”
Mattie studied Darcy's stony face, trying to discern if he actually meant it or not. She wanted to press for more, but a hundred pounds was more than she had ever seen at one time and she wasn't willing to risk losing it.
“I'll take it,” she declared at last, holding out her hand. “And it's a bargain for you, to be sure.”
Darcy sat unmoving. “The letters first, if you please.”
Delighted with her good fortune, Mattie rose and went to the small side table where she had seen her sister put the mysterious letters. Opening the drawer, her look of triumph faded into one of utter horror. Pulling the drawer out completely, she stared dumbstruck at the emptiness.
“They're gone!” she gasped. “I don't understand; they were here day before yesterday.”
“Gone!?” Darcy jumped to his feet, echoing her dismay. “What do you mean 'gone'?”
“She couldn't have known about you comin'. I made sure. I don't understand what happened to them.”
“Are you telling me you do not have the letters?”
“I'm saying they're gone – vanished! My sister must have guessed. I don't know. All I know is they're not here anymore.”
Darcy paced the tiny room, looking for a way to salvage the situation. The letters were gone, but perhaps he could still glean some information from this woman.
“Did you actually see the letters?” he asked. “Or did you only know of their existence?”
“I saw the letters!” she spat. “Two of them at least, and I know there were more. Peggy's been putting them in this drawer for weeks. The last one came just a few days ago when Peggy was out and I put it in the drawer myself.”
“What did it say? Were there any markings on the letter?”
“I don't know what it said – I never learnt to read. I can sign my name and I know my sums, but I can't read,” she admitted grudgingly.
“How would you know what the letters were then?”
“Oh, I know because Peg told me not to be talkin' about 'em. They were addressed to Mr. Bennet and they were written in a lady's hand. T'was no mistakin' it.”
“What about the directions?” Darcy pressed. “Was there a post mark or anything out of the ordinary?”
“Could be. Depends on what you're looking for.”
“I am still willing to pay something – if you have any information of value,” he prompted in a persuasive tone.
Mattie thought hard for a minute before answering. “Well, there was a lot writing on the front of it. I can't tell you anything about that; but I can tell you there were some numbers stamped in red. I recognized them.”
“Numbers, you say,” Darcy asked hopefully. “Can you remember what they were?”
“Oh, yes. I remember quite clearly. I'm good at numbers, you know,” she straightened with some pride. “They were three, three, one; plain as day.”
“Three, three, one. You are sure, quite sure?”
“I said I was good at numbers, didn't I?” she sniffed. “Now what about my money?”
“Yes, yes – you shall have it; but first, was there anything else? Anything at all that you have not already mentioned? The seal perhaps or any other markings?”
“No, nothing at all. There was a seal, but it was just a lump of wax with no markings on it,” she said flatly and held her hand out again.
“Very well then,” Darcy said as he placed a handful of Guineas into her palm. “A letter would have been better, but the information is of some use. Ten pounds is a fair price.”
“I suppose it'll do for now. What if I find the letters?”
“If you recover the letters, send word to me by way of Netherfield Park that you found the missing items – do not say exactly what they are -- and our original agreement shall stand. I believe our business is finished for now. You will excuse me, I must be going.”
It was barely quarter of an hour from the time Darcy had left Denham waiting down the lane from Granley Cottage until he rejoined the valet. His expression revealed nothing of the thoughts racing through his mind.
“Mr. Darcy, was the visit satisfactory?”
“Yes, Denham, I believe it was,” Darcy answered purposefully. “When we get to Netherfield, please begin preparations for our immediate departure. We shall leave first thing in the morning.”
“Are we returning to London, sir?”
“Only temporarily. We are taking Miss Darcy to London – and then you and I have a very long journey ahead of us.”
* * * *
“Darcy, what good luck! I have just seen Denham and heard we are leaving for London in the morning,” Bingley's excitement was evident as he walked into Netherfield's library, riding crop and hat still in hand. “I shall instruct Thomas right away to be ready by first light!”
Darcy did not look up from the map he was studying. “I am sorry, Bingley,
but we are not going; I am going alone.”
“Not going?! Oh, no, my friend, you are very much mistaken. I will not sit on my thumbs while you dash off to get Miss Elizabeth. I made a promise to Jane – and I will keep it.”
Darcy slowly set down the compass and pencil he had been using on the map and gave a low sigh. He had already anticipated Charles' resistance to his new plan.
“To begin with, I am not 'dashing off to get Miss Elizabeth.' I am going to search for her.”
“But you have been to Granley Cottage -- and Denham said you were leaving. I thought you had seen the letters.”
“No, I did not. Evidently, Mrs. Pennwyth suspected something and hid them away. I should have guessed after dealing with her for two days. She is obstinately loyal to Mr. Bennet, even after I suggested the letters would help clear the scandal the Bennets are facing. She would not be moved.”
“I do not understand then,” Bingley blinked with confusion. “If you did not see the letters, why are you leaving?”
“The Wilkins woman had seen the last one arrive two days ago. She could not tell me much, but it was enough to lay a new course.” Darcy looked again to the sheet of geography spread out before him and announced, “The letter had a mileage stamp of three, three, one.”
“That is over three hundred miles!” Bingley gave a low whistle as he joined Darcy at the map. “That would put her somewhere in the north; an enormous task; but if we split up, we could cover more ground in a shorter period.”
“No, you should stay at Netherfield. If the letters are found or if Miss Bennet…”
Bingley straightened and faced his friend squarely, ignoring Darcy's determined manner.
“Jane would expect me to join in the search. It is difficult enough to maintain her good opinion as it is. If I were to stay at Netherfield, for whatever reason, she would think me lacking. I cannot stay behind.”
As they stood locked in a silent battle of wills, Darcy realized the truth of Bingley's argument.
“You are right, of course. Were the situation reversed, if it were Miss Elizabeth suffering the shame of a younger sister's scandalous disappearance, nothing would keep me from doing all I could to ease her pain, rescue her sister, and restore the family's reputation. We are in this together, and it is plain that more area will be covered in less time if we both go.”