“Maybe he is a real romantic.”
“And thinks he is living forty years ago, in France.”
They continued talking even as they walked into town, knowing full well that their mixture of Japanese and Romanian would not be understood in the least. Though Lambton was accustomed to the odd sight of the Maddoxes in full Japanese garb, they still drew some attention, especially as Brian approached the town hall, and hammered in a sign to the message board.
“Five hundred pounds?” said someone from behind. They turned to see Mr. Harris, the man who ran the jewelry and antiques shop. “I wish I had some information.” He quickly corrected himself. “I wish I had the information anyway, for the young master’s sake.”
“So you’ve heard of the situation?” Brian said.
“It was the talk of the tavern last night – but no one seemed to know the specifics. I won’t hesitate to tell you that. Whatever this is about, it wasn’t planned to the knowledge of the people here in town.”
“Thank you, Mr. Harris,” Brian said with a glance to his wife. “Though sadly, it is not worth five hundred pounds. However, Geoffrey’s return – or information on his whereabouts – definitely is. And Mr. Darcy intends to be good to his word.”
“There isn’t a person in Lambton who doesn’t know Mr. Darcy is good to his word,” Mr. Harris said, putting on his spectacles to read the notice properly. “I’ll tell people. Gladly, for the young master.”
Brian smiled. “You have no idea how good it will be for Mr. Darcy to hear that you said that.”
******************************************
Geoffrey Darcy woke to very few sensations, most of them unpleasant. The pounding and ringing in his head were beyond any hangover he had ever experienced, the shock of it preventing physical and mental movement. It threatened to overwhelm him, and he was unsure if more time passed, because there was only darkness, and occasionally voices, inconsistent but near. He recognized Hatcher, who was talking, and he could hear others, but only barely over the ringing sound in his head. And he was aware that he was cold, and very tired, but beyond that, there was nothing.
Why can’t I open my eyes?
“Mr. Darcy? Master Darcy?”
It wasn’t that he was too weak to respond. No, he actually couldn’t respond. His body seemed to be disconnected from his mind and most of his awareness. He only had a vague sense that he was lying on something hard and being kicked. Both of these notions remained fairly abstract.
“Yeh hit him too hard. He’s worth nothin’ if he’s dead.”
“He’s not dead.”
“He will be if we leave ‘im like this.”
Jenkins. Geoffrey began to connect names with the voices he could hear. Jenkins, the man he’d been delivering coal to. It was coming back slowly, and it was no help to him at all.
But still, he found he couldn’t speak.
“Mr. Darcy, you’re making it real hard to have a civil conversation with you,” Hatcher said.
Yes, so are you.
“’course if it was money we wanted, or your father wasn’t an obstinate knob, this would all be over by now.”
And if I could get up, that would help.
“No good. The boy’s really out,” said one of the other men, one he didn’t recognize offhand. “Least ‘e stopped bleedin.’”
I’m not a boy!
But they didn’t hear him. He didn’t even hear himself. All he heard was the muffled noises of the men in the room. And sometimes, he heard nothing at all.
Chapter 13 – Doctor’s Advice
“Father,” Charlie Bingley said, standing resolutely in the doorframe to Pemberley’s servant entrance, “I want to help.”
“No,” Bingley said without a second thought. He was out to meet the huntsman when he came back from their current round of trying to pick up Hatcher’s trail. Darcy remained holed up in the study with his steward. “You’ll remain inside like everyone else.”
“But Father – ”
“Charles!” his father said, and Charlie flinched. He could not remember hearing the sort of severity that was in his father’s voice now. “You will stay inside like everyone else. If you want to help, comfort your cousins.” He was unable to maintain that severity, softening as he patted his son on the arm. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”
Charlie finally nodded and stepped aside as his father turned to the huntsman and inspected the rifle. “It’s been fired?”
“Stray wolves. If we weren’t busy otherwise, I’d say it was time for a hunt. Not sure if we killed any, though. We didn’t pursue.”
Bingley left to pass the news on – not that there was much to tell. Charlie himself left the servant’s quarters and returned to the sitting room upstairs, where the Darcy, Bingley, and Maddox children were supposed to be. Instead he found only Georgiana. “They went down for dinner,” she said of the others. “What did Papa say?”
“He said no again.”
Georgie huffed and sat down on the settee.
“It’s not as though he would have let you help,” Charlie said. “You know he wouldn’t.”
Georgie fingered her necklace. Instead of her usual Indian charm box, the gift from her father that lit up when she pushed down on the top, she had Geoffrey’s ring on a silver chain around her neck. “Do you want to actually help?”
“Of course.”
“Then shut the door.”
He reluctantly did, and they were truly alone. “This is not the time for childish pranks.”
“I am not a child,” she said. She wasn’t; she was eighteen, just like Geoffrey, even two weeks older. “If you want to be of actual help, you can help me.”
“By doing what? Listen to their conversations? You already spy on everyone. You probably know more about what’s going on than I do.”
She laughed at that. “True, but that isn’t what I meant.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper, which she handed to Charlie. “I need everything on the list.”
“You’re not allowed to go outside!”
“I didn’t say I was going outside. I just said I need everything on the list. And that’s why I can use your help.” She rose. “Now we’re late to dinner.”
“Is this a childish prank to break tension or something more terrible?” Charlie said.
“Do you want to know the answer?”
“Probably not,” he said, and followed her to dinner.
******************************************
The Darcys supped alone. Darcy would not leave his study, as if the pile of legal papers and contracts in front of him would provide an answer if he only stared at them long enough. Elizabeth, for once, abandoned her duties as hostess to be at her husband’s side, not wanting him to be alone even though at every other moment his steward had been there. Still, neither of them had much of an appetite. As the sun began to decline, more time passed since Hatcher’s disappearance without any sign or word from him. The constable was to arrive in the morning, but they had little faith that he could help them. The Kincaids and the Bellamonts would not have even received their letters yet, much less be on their way to Pemberley, a disheartening thought, for even Grégoire’s distant prayers would have been some consolation to them.
They ate in silence until a sudden knock at the door, startling them and worsening their agitated nerves. “Come,” Darcy said, his hand unconsciously falling on Elizabeth’s.
Mrs. Annesley entered. “A Mr. and Mrs. Richardson to see you, sir.”
“The tenants?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Darcy and Elizabeth exchanged glances. “Send them in.” They rose as the tenants entered the room. “Good evening, Mr. Richardson. Mrs. Richardson.” Darcy tried to maintain his restraint. He must be polite and inquire after their four young children, as if he had all the time in the world. Maybe Elizabeth would do that.
Fortunately, Mr. Richardson took the initiative before Darcy could open his mouth
. “We’re so sorry ta hear ‘bout your son, Mr. Darcy. Mrs. Darcy.” He bowed again and held his hat in his hands. “’Tis a real muddle.”
“We don’t know anythin’ ta tell ya, Mr. Darcy, but we felt real bad with what happened to a fine young lad like Master Geoffrey, so we made you ... well, we didn’ have much, but we made you a cake.”
Elizabeth accepted the basket gratefully. “Thank you, Mrs. Richardson, for your kind thoughts, and lovely cake. It is very reassuring that people are not inclined to listen to Mr. Hatcher’s propaganda.”
“Hatcher? That man comin’ about our town, spoutin’ nonsense?” Mr. Richardson said. “Nobody I know took that man real seriously, Mr. Darcy, and now that he went and snatched a lad – if I saw ‘im, I’d turn ‘im in myself.”
“That is very comforting to hear,” Elizabeth replied again, seeing Darcy too emotional to speak. The Richardsons did not keep them any longer from their dinner and excused themselves, leaving the Darcys with their cake.
“You’re not a bad landlord,” Elizabeth said, kissing Darcy before the steward entered. “You’re a good man.”
“I wish only to convince someone else of that,” he said, and on cue, the steward announced the arrival of one Mr. Hatcher, come alone, waiting for him at the entrance.
“I wish to go with you,” Elizabeth said, “if he sees how distraught – ”
“I don’t want him to see that,” Darcy said with more force than he was accustomed to with Elizabeth. “Please, Lizzy,” he whispered, “it is hard enough for me to talk to this man as it is.”
She nodded and reluctantly stayed in the room as he left to greet his guest.
******************************************
As Darcy approached the open doors, Brian Maddox had just returned, Bingley was of course ready at his side, and Dr. Maddox was waiting in the wings. He did not welcome Hatcher in, instead walking up to him on the front steps so he did not enter Pemberley proper. There were no greetings. “Well?”
Hatcher produced the paper, still blank but for a scrawl where Geoffrey’s signature should have been. “It’s not my fault he’s a heavy sleeper – ”
Darcy grabbed Hatcher by his collar, lifting him ever so slightly off his feet and shaking him in fury. “What did you do to my son?” Hatcher was a stout man, and at least a decade younger than Darcy, but he was not as tall or as passionate at this particular moment, and his face was red from strangulation by the time Bingley and Brian managed to pull Darcy away. “I will not be manhandled in my own house!” It took him a moment to recover himself, shaking out his coat as Hatcher stumbled and rubbed his throat, but no one rushed to help him. “Now – what have you done to my son? And be plain about it for once. Dr. Maddox will hear your account.”
Brian nodded to his brother, who came up behind Darcy as Hatcher began to speak. “That dog – when he attacked me, one of my men shot him, so the boy tried to strike me, and I hit him in the head. Here.” He pointed to his temple. “He’s alive, but he won’t wake.”
“Is he bleeding?” Dr. Maddox asked. His professional voice was comforting in its own strange way, all calm and seriousness.
“He bled a little, but it stopped. And there’s some bruising.”
Darcy did not hesitate to reach into his coat and pull out a small pistol, pointing it directly at Hatcher’s forehead. “Take me to Geoffrey.”
“I’ll make a concession – ”
“You will take me to my son!”
“You shoot, and he’ll be dead before you find him. You know that.” Hatcher swallowed when Darcy did not lower his pistol. “I’ll let the doctor see him.”
“I’ll go,” Dr. Maddox said, stepping forward, “as long as we leave before Caroline hears about it. And I need to bring plenty of lamps.”
Darcy hesitated, lowering his pistol and whispering to the doctor, “You do not have to risk yourself for me again.”
“I want to do it, for Geoffrey. But I’m night-blind. I’ll need a lot of light.”
“We have plenty of light,” Hatcher said. “I’ll bring him back as soon as he finishes his assessment.”
Darcy, with mere moments to assess the situation, closed his eyes and nodded. “All right. Doctor – ”
But Dr. Maddox already had his bag in hand and called for his coat. Before he could leave, Brian drew his blade and held it to Hatcher’s throat, drawing just the smallest bit of blood. “If you don’t bring him back, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth.”
“And he’s been to the ends of the earth,” Bingley said.
Dr. Maddox and his brother embraced before he left with Hatcher, disappearing into the night. Darcy nearly collapsed, but Bingley caught him. “My only request,” he said, “is that someone other than I tell Lady Maddox what just happened.”
******************************************
Hatcher had another man with him, at the edge of the grounds, where the real road began, and two horses. With so little light, Dr. Maddox couldn’t see him clearly, and doubted he would recognize him anyway. “You don’t have to do this,” he said as the other man tied his hands behind his back. “I won’t fight you.”
“You can’t blame me for taking precautions,” Hatcher said, and they blindfolded him, even though without his glasses and in the dark of night, he was completely blind anyway. Between the horse ride and the number of times they spun him around, by the time they reached their destination, he had no proper idea where they were, except that it was extremely secluded. His hands were untied, which allowed for circulation to return to them as he was led into what appeared to be a tent.
They removed his blindfold and returned his glasses. It was still too dark for him to see much as the man with Hatcher opened up the doctor’s case and started removing the sharp objects, taking them out of the doctor’s reach.
“Those are just my surgical tools.”
“If you need ‘em, let me know.”
“I need more light.”
They brought in more torches for him, until there was quite enough light for him to finally see. He was in a small tent, obviously designed mainly to keep him from seeing where he was in the woods. On the ground, wrapped in blankets, was the first familiar form he could see besides Hatcher.
“Geoffrey.” When the form before him did not respond, he had to try not to despair. Geoffrey Darcy, still wearing his waistcoat, lay on his side, his hands tied tightly behind his back. Not that he was going anywhere; he was completely unresponsive when Dr. Maddox probed him.
He had no sharp tools to cut Geoffrey’s bonds and so held the lantern up to the boy’s face. There was a bruise and swelling above his left eye, not far from the hair line, and dried blood that had dripped down across his forehead. “Geoffrey, can you hear me? It’s Dr. Maddox.” He pushed up the boy’s lids, but his eyes were rolled back into his head. “Unfortunately I’ve not come here to rescue you.” He looked a bit closer at the wound along his hairline. That at least would need cleaning. He turned to his bag, and retrieved a much stronger pair of glasses that he now used for close inspection, and his smelling salts. Geoffrey’s breathing was shallow, and Maddox had to hold the bottle right up against his nose before the boy got a whiff. There was some visible nasal reaction, but still he did not wake. “He’s not woken at all?”
“No,” said Hatcher. “I’ve had someone with him the whole time.”
“Has he spoken in his sleep?”
“No.”
Dr. Maddox removed a metal bowl from his bag and handed it to Hatcher. “Fill it with clean water, if you have a source. That or alcohol.”
His captor left silently, closing the tent flap behind him. Dr. Maddox sighed and began checking Geoffrey for other wounds, but he appeared to have none. “Geoffrey, if you can hear me, we’re doing everything we can to free you.” He added, thinking it might ease his mind, if some part of it could hear, “And Gawain is all right. The bullet just grazed him.” He began pulling out his bandage cloth. “Miss Bingley has your ring, a
s I understand. She’s keeping it safe for you, and she’ll be very upset if you don’t come back to claim it soon.”
Hatcher returned with water, which Maddox tasted. It was cold and fresh, obviously from a stream. It was not boiled, but it would have to do. Dr. Maddox cleaned his hands as best he could. “Scissors,” he said, and Hatcher put his tiny scissors into the waiting palm. Dr. Maddox wet the cloth and wiped the blood from Geoffrey’s forehead. He snipped away at some of the hair that was caught in the dried blood, and moved slowly up against the hairline, to see how far the swelling went. “There’s a sharp object that looks like a small pike made of steel. I need it.”
“Why?”
“I need to see what the swelling is.”
Hatcher sighed and handed him the object in question, which he delicately used to pierce the swelling. There was only a little bleeding, and some pus around the wound, but still no reaction from Geoffrey,. Dr. Maddox pushed down on the wound gently, and some of the swelling went down. Sighing, he took a fresh cloth and held it against the bleeding spot. “I think you were lucky and managed not to smash his skull and pierce his brain. Nonetheless he does have a very serious concussion.” When the bleeding had stopped, he put down a bandage and tied it around Geoffrey’s head. It was unnerving to hold the young man in his arms and feel him limp like a corpse. “Is he hurt anywhere else?”
“No.”
“Did you check?”
“Yes.”
Dr. Maddox wasn’t interested in Hatcher’s attitude, though it was notably more subdued than it had been at Pemberley. “More light,” he ordered, and Hatcher came forward and held a lantern right over him as he went though his bag and found a small glass bottle of sugar and a spoon. He put a little sugar and water onto the spoon. “Open his mouth.”
The Knights of Derbyshire Page 14
