“Ah, yes, that is how I heard it!” the younger mad nodded. “Forgive my presumption sir, but the talk had you engaged to be married by spring… well,” he sobered when he observed the dangerous flicker in his superior’s eyes, “I can see that was all a misunderstanding.”
“Indeed, it was. I remain in the First Division, but I am presently on an extended leave. What is your current assignment, Harker?”
“The Regulars, sir, in Newcastle. I have a short leave myself, about time and all that, but my Colonel had an errand for me as well. There is one fellow I haven’t seen in months, and I understand he is nearly always to be found at the gaming tables. I fear he will run to ground the moment he sees me, for you see, he is considered a deserter, but my colonel charged me most seriously to exert at least some effort in searching for him while I was in Town.”
“If your usual scouts have not discovered the man, I doubt you will have better luck on your own. Who is he, a friend?”
“No, sir. He joined our regiment some months ago, had his commission purchased by a wealthy sponsor and everything. I was in London then as well, and bound back to Newcastle at the same time as he. I only came into his path because this sponsor desired my escort as… ah… inducement against any reluctance on the Lieutenant’s part. It seems he knew his ‘friend’ all too well. I accompanied the fellow to his wedding that morning—a patched-up job if ever I saw it—and then we were on the same coach north until the first inn. I was due back with the regiment, but they were to stop off in Hertfordshire, so we parted company then. I learned later that he disappeared and has not been heard from again, though my colonel immediately issued a warrant.”
“Hmm,” Richard mumbled in boredom. He could not have cared less about Harker’s deserter, for the letter in his pocket weighed more heavily by the moment. “Well, best of luck with that, Captain.” He dipped his hat and attempted to walk on, but Harker stopped him.
“Forgive me, sir, but might I impose upon you for a moment? As I said, the fellow would recognise me, but he has not seen your face. I asked around a bit, and I think there is a good chance he is here today. It is the law, sir….”
Richard sighed. “You think he is at the gaming tables? I haven’t time to remain long, but if you are correct that the man is here, then perhaps it is my duty. What did you say his name was?”
“Lieutenant Wickham, sir.”
Richard felt his features settling into a wooden mask. He stared fixedly, unblinking, as he breathed, “George Wickham.”
“So you are acquainted with him! I say, that may not bode well, if he also knows you,” Harker laughed. “Did you know he had gone into our ranks?”
Richard shook his head very slightly, his response more felt as an afterthought than an act of conscious will. “I knew nothing of his commission. I had heard some report of his debts and his subsequent marriage. Some foolish girl he bamboozled into a carriage and merrily ruined, no doubt.”
“Ah, just so! The half-witted strumpet! Oh, she was a wild one, make no mistake, and not a virtue to recommend her. I shouldn’t wonder that he has left her to the brothels by now.”
Richard’s jaw went slack. Another casualty of that scoundrel! “And all this time, you’ve had no word of his whereabouts?” he demanded sharply.
“Well… no, sir. The house mistress where he lodged when I first met him would speak nary a word. There was that wealthy friend of his, I thought to inquire there, but it seems the fellow up and died, and none there would make comment. ‘Tis not for lack of searching, Colonel. Wickham seems to have friends everywhere to whom he owes money, and for some reason they persist in thinking the rogue will pay up so they keep quiet. The best information I’ve heard put him at the betting tables here, though I’d have thought the stakes too high for one of his means.”
“Oh, I am certain that the Lieutenant collected handsomely on his marriage, if I know the character of his ‘sponsor’ at all.” Richard’s jaw flexed, his nostrils distended in loathing. What he would give to rattle George Wickham’s miserable brain about in his addled skull! It would never amend that cad’s ways, but it might exhaust some of his pent-up fury over Darcy’s last hours—if such they truly were.
What had ever persuaded his cousin to at last attempt to force Wickham into a life of respectability? The girl? She could have been no one of Darcy’s acquaintance, by Harker’s description of her. Had it all been an elaborate trap by Wickham after all, and the hapless girl merely the bait to draw Darcy out? Oh, but if it was a fortune Wickham had in mind, why settle for a pittance when he could have found a wealthier young lady, or remained to extort more from Darcy? No, something was still missing.
He held a silent conversation with himself, his eyebrows twitching and his head shaking as first one idea, then the next flitted through his consciousness and was dismissed. Harker would have good reason to think him touched in the head if he continued, so with some reluctance he drew himself up and adopted an air of command. “Well, let us see if the rascal is here, as you say, Harker. Which way did you suspect?”
Harker led him to the back tables, and as men who had once fought side by side, they wordlessly broke company to approach the rooms from opposite ends. In the end, it availed them little, for George Wickham was not to be found. Either he had sensed their approach and scampered like a frightened rabbit, or the rumours of his presence had been grossly exaggerated. Richard halted after the last table, a truly terrifying scowl settling over his face as he glared over the expanse he had already checked.
“Bad luck, sir,” Harker spoke at his shoulder. Richard only grunted.
“Well, sir, I am much obliged to you for your help. I’m back to Newcastle on the morrow, but you’ll send word if you hear of him?”
“Indeed, Captain. I trust you will do the same. I believe I should like to speak with Mr Wickham myself when he is found, and I hope to have an opportunity to do so before your colonel stretches his worthless neck.”
Harker grinned and saluted. “I will pass on your request. Fare thee well, sir.”
Richard answered smartly, but his mind was already returning to the letter in his pocket. “The same to you, Harker.”
He hailed a chair, ensconcing himself within the privacy of the darkened little shelter as the door closed and the horse set out. Broderick was as concise as ever, but the sparse words scrawled over the page caused his heart to thrum until George Wickham was entirely forgotten.
Sir,
I have information from the docks. A ship called the Sonho do Mar returned to port today, and I witnessed two of its hands seeking out our friends on B— Ln. Money exchanged hands and our friends immediately set out for the north. I have another following them.
You may well remember the name of the Sonho do Mar, for it was one of the departing ships listed from August 29. It was this association which I thought made our friends’ actions peculiarly interesting. I would surmise that another errand has been requested of them.
I will report once I have further word of their destination.
Richard scanned the words again and again, verifying to his disbelieving eyes what he feared and hoped in the same breath. How had he missed this before? The ship’s name—had he been so blind and overwhelmed that he had not recognised it? For he knew the ship, and its home port. He knew the owner, and something of that man’s agenda.
The note dropped to his knee in an ice-cold hand as he stared at the polished tip of his boot, his mind a torrent. That merchant ship belonged to a man—no, an entire family—whom he had never expected to see again. António Moniz de Noronha.
15
Richard spent the whole of that night afoot in various quarters of the city. Though he searched for word of Wickham, his objective had turned to Portugal. The link to Noronha had left him aghast and reeling. What possible connection might have existed between the Portuguese statesman and Darcy?
Noronha was a determined man, zealous for his nation and nearly fa
natical regarding his family, but Richard could not yet accuse the man of malice against Darcy. Whatever his disagreements with the man, Richard knew him to be a gentleman. Violence was not his way, surely!
Yet, the coincidence of the same men being contracted for work by someone from Noronha’s ship was too strong for him to overlook. If Broderick had found nothing new within a few days, Richard saw little alternative but to embark for Portugal himself with his questions. How the devil was he to explain this to his relations, and what to do about Georgiana if he went away?
His mind was a riot when at last he entered his own door, late the following morning. He had intended to secrete himself quietly in his chambers for his batman’s14 attentions and a few short hours of rest, but it so happened that he had arrived on the heels of one of his mother’s morning callers. The door to the sitting room was ajar, and the strident greetings in a vaguely familiar voice echoed up the staircase to him. Georgiana’s muted reply sounded next, and he did not like the strained quality of her tones.
Retreating back down the steps, he moved quietly to the door to listen. Ah. He closed his eyes in a pained grimace. He knew that caller’s voice. His instincts screamed out in self-preservation, urging him back from the door as discreetly as possible, but to leave Georgiana to the mercy of one Caroline Bingley was a matter beyond his own interests.
“My lady,” crooned the visitor, “what exquisite taste! I simply must know where you obtained this piece, for it has such an air of the East about it.”
Richard’s mouth pursed in disgust. And this the woman who had thought herself worthy of Darcy? She was vulgar as any scullery maid, yet she was so bold as to presume upon the Countess of Matlock and Georgiana Darcy! His mother made some blasé reply, an attempt to conceal her chagrin at her caller’s coarseness, but Caroline Bingley was not put off in the slightest.
“Naturally, your ladyship would have nothing less,” Caroline purred. “That is, of course, why I felt only Mr J—would do for a designer when I sought one to make over my new flat. Why, it is as I was saying to our dear Miss Darcy when last we were all in Derbyshire; a lady’s breeding is reflected in her surroundings.”
He strained his ears to catch Georgiana’s reply, but none was forthcoming. It did not take the work of a detective for him to understand that the time of which Miss Bingley spoke had, in all likelihood, been the last days Georgiana had spent with her brother. Had that ghastly woman shocked the poor girl into yet another grief-stricken silence? Concern and anger overpowered his manners, and without quite realising it, his feet carried him to the open door where he could observe her face.
It was Miss Bingley who noticed him first, even seated with her back partially turned to the door. She preened and arched her long neck round to look him full in the face. “Why, Colonel Fitzwilliam! I had not anticipated the pleasure.”
Lady Matlock was far too seasoned to permit her caller a glimpse of her disdain, but she graced her son with a stern glance of warning. Her lashes flickered darkly before she smiled and rose to greet him. “Richard! Heavens, my dear boy, but where have you been? You look positively dreadful.”
He bowed from the waist, scolded. “Forgive me for appearing so, Mother, I meant no interruption. I beg you will excuse me.”
Caroline Bingley had also risen to a curtsy, joined by her lady’s companion. “I am certain that the colonel must have many heavy burdens upon his mind. How good you are, sir, that even in the midst of your own concerns you devote yourself to comforting our dear Georgiana. I am assured, sir, that the poor girl would be quite at a loss without you.”
“My cousin is my highest concern,” he answered tightly, “but as you no doubt see for yourself, Miss Bingley, Miss Darcy is a sophisticated young lady, and not a child who wants cosseting. It has not been any goodness of my own, but my honour to attend her.”
“Spoken as a true gentleman,” Miss Bingley beamed smoothly. “I have long held that an officer, being a man of duty and courage, must naturally be also the epitome of grace and courtliness.”
Richard, exhausted and bleary-eyed after twenty-four hours on his feet, hesitated a moment before making reply. Was Miss Bingley flirting with him? Impossible! He shook himself inwardly and offered a bow in parting. “Indeed, Miss Bingley. I beg you would pardon my intrusion, I shall retire.”
“No pardon is necessary, I assure you. If I may be so bold, sir, I would extend my brother’s greeting. He always speaks so fondly of you, I know he will gratified indeed to hear that you are well.”
Richard stared, his stomach sinking in horror. She was flirting with him! He flitted a nervous glance to Georgiana, but he could not in all courtesy quit the room so readily after Miss Bingley’s little speech. “You are most kind, Miss Bingley. I trust Mr Bingley is well?”
“Oh! I suppose he is as well as he may be, after settling in such a backward county. I am very sorry for it—you know how well he enjoys the delights of Town, and I am afraid he shall come to regret his decision to settle in Hertfordshire.”
“I hardly think Hertfordshire backward! At any event, had he not intended to give up the lease of the estate and remove once more to London?”
The lady cast back her head in pitying resignation. “Alas, Colonel, he has determined to remain indefinitely! I expect that the close proximity to his wife’s relations has some influence on the matter, though I cannot fathom how he finds them agreeable.”
“Bingley married? I had not heard of this. I shall send my felicitations straightaway. May I inquire as to the name of his bride and her family?”
Caroline’s lip curled, very faintly. “I am certain the family could be of no interest, sir, but he has married the former Miss Bennet of Longbourn.”
This name brought the first signs of liveliness to Georgiana’s features, but Richard was more distracted by his own recollections. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet! Why yes, I believe I am acquainted with her. A remarkable young woman, to be sure. Bingley shall be well suited.” Even as he spoke his words of praise, something twisted deep within his gut. Though he had never been certain of it, that time in Kent had opened his eyes to the possibility that Darcy might, perhaps, harbour some strong feeling for a lady. That the lady had now married another echoed hollowly in his heart. Yet another silken thread to bygone days severed.
Caroline Bingley’s smile was now wooden, her eyes cold, as she sweetly corrected him. “Why no, colonel, I am afraid there are far too many Bennet ladies to account. My brother has wed the eldest, the former Miss Jane Bennet.”
A breath of relief flowed back into his lungs, followed instantly by humiliated shock. If Bingley had fancied Miss Elizabeth’s sister, so much so as to wed her almost immediately after Darcy’s disappearance, then some of his comments to Miss Elizabeth last April may have been exceedingly ill-judged! The matter had come aright, or so it appeared, but he must take that lesson to heart. Never would he forgive another officer for speaking so incautiously of matters military, but a sparkling smile and a fine pair of eyes—as Darcy had once described—had thoroughly loosed his tongue and undone his better sense.
Caroline was still smiling pertly, and his lack of response had grown awkward. His mother was pursing her lips in marked ennui, but Georgiana’s face had sparked to life for the first time in a long while. Her eyes warmed hesitantly toward him, but before she worked up the courage to speak, Miss Bingley had also noted her interest.
“Ah, Miss Darcy, you were acquainted with Miss Elizabeth Bennet as well, were you not? How clumsy of me to have forgotten that, but I recall now. She was traveling through Derbyshire last summer with her uncle—the one in trade, is that correct?”
Georgiana answered softly in the affirmative, and Richard turned to her in amazement. “You met Miss Elizabeth? I did not know of this!”
Georgiana’s shoulders were now heaving in laboured breaths, caught between joy and agony as she relived the memory. “Fitzwilliam introduced us. I liked her very much! I wish I could have
come to know her better, but some family crisis called them away unexpectedly.”
The side of Miss Bingley’s mouth curved—a terrifying expression, to one who knew ladies well. “To be sure, it was a most unfortunate event which called them away. Happily, the family must have some connection which was able to avert the larger part of scandal—oh! but I beg your ladyship to forgive me for speaking so indelicately. Certainly, it is not proper discourse for a morning call.”
Caroline Bingley could have made no more damaging remarks in the eyes of the Countess of Matlock. To impute that Darcy had made known to his impressionable young sister a woman with a disgraced family instantly cast the whole of his guardianship into doubt. To be quite truthful, Lady Matlock was no more pleased by Caroline Bingley, with her veneer of elegance only barely covering the stink of her grandfather’s factories, but there was nothing overtly immoral about the woman. Richard watched his mother’s practiced cool settling over her face, and it seemed almost as if the hearth fire had dwindled all at once.
Caroline Bingley also noted the chill, and within minutes, she and her companion were bidding their polite adieux. She came to him to offer a curtsey, giving him her gloved hand so that he might bow gallantly over it. “Until we shall meet again, Colonel Fitzwilliam. I do hope it need not be so long between our visits in the future. May I presume that you will be attending some of the Season’s events?”
“If my duties permit, Miss Bingley.”
She batted her lashes and blushed prettily. “Such loyalty is to be admired! I bid you a good day, sir.”
The countess shook her head and sighed in exasperation after their departure. “These women from trade!” she lamented broadly. “No grace to their credit! A shameless flirt, that one, and growing desperate from what I hear. I believe she desires a voucher for Almack’s, but I would never court such humiliation as to lend that woman my own credibility!”
These Dreams: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Page 21
