A World of Expectations_Book 2_The Confrontation

by Gayle Lynn Messick

  After the door closed, he glanced around the vicinity and memorized the location. He felt disappointed when Miss Elizabeth did not greet her sister’s return. He fought the urge to bound up the steps and bang on the door. He preferred a private discussion. Instead, knowing her propensity to walk outdoors, he assumed if she was visiting, it would not be many days before she would leave the house. He would wait each morning for her, and when she stepped outside, he would seek the answer to the question nagging at him daily. Why did she run away from me?

  He remembered his meeting with Bingley and, trotted away. The production of the rifles was near completion. His Uncle Harrowby and Lord Liverpool had been successful with the military order and he needed Bingley’s signature on several documents. The customs official was satisfied with the documentation for the shipment to British America. England was concerned about the continuing escalation of hostilities with America, and the British government believed the rifles were necessary to protect those lands.

  Blake returned to Bingley’s house, only to discover his friend had left to search for him at White’s. Bingley would not find him there; he had not entered his club since his initial appearance upon his return from Hertfordshire. Since his father spent his afternoon’s there, Blake decided not to follow Bingley to the club, instead turning for home to make plans to seek out Miss Elizabeth. He could not move on with his life until he learned the truth. She haunted his nights, and now that he had seen Miss Bennet, he knew she would stay on his mind all during the days, too.

  For the next week, Blake sat atop his horse, hidden from view from the residents of the Gardiners’s home on Gracechurch Street. The air did becoming warmer with each morning, and there were days he swore his breath froze in the air. The temperature should have been hotter, the calendar showed spring was soon to arrive. He did not leave his position for hours while he hoped she would appear on the front step. Four small children, one servant, and Miss Bennet ventured out each morning for a short walk down the street. Not once did a dark haired beauty join them. He concluded Elizabeth was not in Cheapside, and with a melancholy heart, he gave up his quest. She was not there, and he doubted he would ever see her again.

  ***

  “Lizzy, drink this.” Mrs. Gardiner held her niece’s head up. “Please.”

  “What is it?”

  “A dear friend sent this over. She promises that you will be better in a day or two. You have been ill for over a week now, so drink this. I insist.”

  “What is in it?”

  “Oh, it is flavored water. I boiled ginger root, cardamom seeds, turmeric, and garlic. Lizzy, dear. I am worried. Nothing has worked yet. Your fever has not abated. You must drink this.”

  Elizabeth sat up on her elbows and swallowed the concoction. Jane wiped her sister’s forehead with a cool, damp cloth, and Mrs. Gardiner covered her niece with a fresh coverlet.

  “Oh, Jane,” Mrs. Gardiner whispered when Lizzy fell back asleep. “Thank you for helping with the children. They have enjoyed their walks each morning, but today I wish you would stay with Lizzy. Watch her carefully. If she is not better by tonight, I will send word to her father.”

  Jane nodded and sat with her sister for the entire day. Lizzy slept soundly but every once in a while she would wake just long enough to sip the cold remedy.

  At eleven that evening, Lizzy woke up smiling. Her fever had broken and she informed a drowsy Jane that she was hungry and tired of lying in bed. Careful not to disturb Jane when her sister fell into a deep sleep, she slid out from under the covers and ventured down the stairs with the intention of sneaking into the kitchen. She wanted something of substance having spent the last ten days sipping broth.

  “Who goes there?”

  “Uncle, it is me, Lizzy.”

  “You are well?” Mr. Gardiner approached his niece, touching her forehead with the back of his hand. “No fever.”

  “I am well. The potion aunt gave me worked wonders. Now, I am surprised to find you here.”

  “You found me out. I regularly sneak in here for a treat before I retire for the night. How much will it take to secure your silence?”

  “The truth.”

  Gardiner felt his neck muscles tense. Holding a pie, he found a knife and several plates and pointed to two chairs. “Your dowry money?”

  “How did you know?”

  “You have been mumbling in your sleep. Your aunt was worried.”

  “Yes, I seek the truth since I do not understand how my father lost the money.”

  “Mr. Cuffage worked with an inventor who appeared to have discovered how to create light without candles, well, more precisely, with lamps that glow from the burning of gas. The inventor needed two hundred thousand pounds in order to light the streets and houses throughout London. He had applied to Parliament for a patent for his invention, and presented a proposal. Mr. Cuffage found a banker to loan him the money and your father and others provided the collateral for a percentage share of the business. Alas, the inventor spent all of the funds in materials and labor while they waited for the patent and the order to proceed. When Parliament did not approve, Cuffage called the loan and your father was required to make full payment. The company dissolved, and with it went any hope of recovering your dowries.”

  “Oh. And had the patent been approved, Father would have seen a profit?”

  “The proposal to light London would have resulted in your father more than doubling his investment. However, the true profits would have come from the patent to produce all the gas lighting needs for England. You father risked your dowries for potentially enormous wealth and unfathomable fortunes for his daughters.”

  “We were content with what we had.”

  “He wanted to do more, but he had no money of his own. Everything belongs to the estate and with it entailed away, he feared Mr. Collins would confiscate the profits for himself. In order to invest, he had to use your dowries, the one source of funds out of Collins hands.”

  “Did you invest?”

  “I did not, but only because I needed to expand my own business. Mr. Cuffage had collaborated with me on several successful ventures in the past, and that is how your father came to know him. Since then, I have discovered he cheated me on several contracts, although I do not have the proof. One day I will find the evidence and send him to Newgate prison, regardless of whoever is shielding him.”

  “Someone is shielding him?”

  “Yes. I suspect he is a powerful man. Perhaps he is the banker. I do not know.”

  They ate their pie in silence until Lizzy thanked her uncle and returned to her bedchambers. For the first time in weeks, she would venture outdoors in the morning.

  ***

  Darcy entered the music room to find Kent turning the pages of the latest composition from Beethoven at Georgiana’s side. He switched from one foot to the other while the couple whispered together, their heads in close contact. His brow furrowed when his sister giggled and the lines on his forehead grew deeper when Kent blushed. Darcy’s gaze drifted onto a beautiful white flower tied to a note resting on the pianoforte. Darcy immediately recognized the ribbon wrapped around the items as the same one Kent had used to wrap his birthday gift. He also had not miss how Georgiana moved quickly to drape sheet music over the flower before flashing a signal to Kent that her brother had joined them.

  He doubted either one would be willing to share their secret. A pattern had emerged. Every time he had entered the room, they returned to an upright proper position and gazed everywhere, but at each other.

  “Kent, I need to speak to you in the library.” Darcy turned sharply, not waiting for an answer; his long strides covering the hall carpet with ease. Darcy paced about the room, deliberating what to say and how to not cause offense.

  “Darcy, is something upsetting you? Is there something wrong with the shipment of rifles?”

  “No. Everything is proceeding as planned. I… have other issues on my mind.”

  “I would be willing to
help if you need it. I have been busy securing agreements with tradesmen all week. I believe we are approaching a full cargo for British America. Only one or two more orders are needed.”

  Darcy moved to the window. “I assume Bingley informed you Lord Liverpool was the person behind the Custom Office inquiries about the guns to British America?”

  “Yes, and he and I handled the matter to everyone’s satisfaction.” He waited quietly while Darcy continued to stare out the window without offering any further conversation. Unwilling to allow the silence to continue, Kent cleared his voice loudly enough to cause Darcy to turn his head. “I hope you are thinking about the enormous profit we will be making once the ship arrives.”

  Darcy turned around and faced Kent. “Did any tradesmen shy away from your business?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “Did they realize I was a partner?”

  Kent remained still while he composed his words. “I did not reveal any partner, as you requested. Should I have?”

  “No. It will be best not to do so. They only need to know you are placing orders for a company.”

  Kent’s gaze darted from his friend to the floor and then back again to his friend before fixing his glare on the floor. His hands twitched as he squirmed in his chair. “I have been careful to maintain the secrecy you, Blake, and Rawlings desired, and have the tradesmen deal only with me. Although I suspect we have not achieved complete secrecy.”

  After a moment spent in careful observation of his friend, Darcy returned to looking out the window. “Well, never mind. We only sought a delay in revealing the membership until we established ourselves. I cannot find several important documents mapping out our strategy. Do you have them?”

  “No. Perhaps they have been mislaid. Blake could have needed them for gaining political backing.”

  Darcy turned away from the window and shrugged. “Perhaps so or even they may be with Bingley. Rawlings might have taken them to present to Astor, as well.” When no response was forthcoming, he slid into the chair across from Kent. “Well, let us discuss a more interesting subject. I would like to make our plans for the trip to the SoHo Manufactory in Birmingham. You aunt was gracious in the invitation, and I would like to visit the facilities. I am desirous of meeting your family’s other business partners.”

  “Excellent. I am available at your convenience. She is looking forward to the visit, as is her son. They will treat you royally.”

  “That is not necessary. I will not be able to leave until I return from my annual trip to my aunt’s home in Kent.”

  “All things named Kent are good,” his friend chuckled.

  Ignoring Kent’s lightheartedness, Darcy continued, “The trip to my aunt’s is planned for the last day of March.” The two men identified which day was convenient for them and set the date shortly after his return one week later. Kent promised to inform his aunt to make arrangements, and as there was nothing else to discuss, he promptly set out for his home.

  Miss Caroline Bingley arrived. Her pretense was to visit with Georgiana, but once inside the house she sought out Mr. Darcy. He was sitting in his study staring at the papers on his desk. He had not read a single word since he was contemplating the growing relations between Kent and his sister. Unprepared for a discussion about Jane Bennet’s visit to the Bingley home, he responded in short, crisp answers.

  “Miss Bingley, how may I assist you?”

  Caroline spared no ridicule in her description of Miss Bennet’s unhidden hopes to see her brother. She informed Darcy that she, of course, had not informed Jane of her brother’s whereabouts and quickly hurried her out the door.

  “I do not think you acted properly, but Miss Bennet should not expect to be reacquainted with Bingley whenever she calls upon you.”

  He barely heard her say she would not tell her brother about Jane’s appearance. He merely answered, “Do what you think best, and I agree not to inform him either. He does not need to be reminded of her while he is still disheartened.” Yes, he thought, if he sees her now, he will succumb quickly. Bingley will not listen to reason.

  Miss Bingley left to visit with his sister. Darcy rose from his chair and walked toward the fireplace. He felt warm, even though the flames were dwindling. After restoring the fire to full force, he moved to the sideboard. He reached for the bottle of Oban Bingley had sent over and filled a glass, shaking his head. Mrs. Bennet must be desperate. Neither Blake nor Bingley has returned and all of Meryton must know of their misfortune by now. Did Elizabeth come to town as well? He shook his head. Forget her. Protect yourself!

  ***

  Although the afternoon sun was bright, the air still maintained its winter nippiness. Having reached its destination, the carriage stopped, and Kent stepped down. He had spent many outings over the years along the paths in Hyde Park, cultivating relationships with the regular attendees. He had always acted in the appropriate manner, not wishing to be a party to any scandal. He believed his future depended upon a pristine character. Darcy may abhor scandal, but he feared it. He could ill-afford to be tainted by it and any decision he made whether business or pleasure rested on it. Thus, he worried about his connection to Blake whose father was indeed a scandal bubbling up.

  Money was one talisman to London’s upper echelon, and his wealth could purchase him a worthy lady; although he had no doubt the particular ladies that might be interested in him would not enhance his property. In order for his acceptance, her family would need to be near insolvency, but her financial status was of no concern to him. He wanted the invitation into the inner circles of the best families. If a lady lacked the desired connections, she would not be worthy, or so he thought. She needed to be young and unmarried and he preferred her to be a little attractive. That was important. Over the years, several ladies matched his criteria, but those flirtations had not worked out. His heart had not been touched, which was the final ingredient for marriage. He needed to feel something for the woman he wed. And now he knew it be true, he felt something for her.

  No more than a quarter hour passed before he spotted Georgiana and her cousin, Lady Victoria. He startled a little when he spied a well-dressed gentleman escorting them down a familiar path. He was not tall enough to be Darcy, and was huskier in build. Both ladies laughed while they walked, another indication it was not him. Moving to a parallel path and walking ahead, he was able to study their expressions. This man shared a certain intimacy with them and, for the first time in months, he worried he would have competition after all his hard work.

  He approached them speedily and yet quietly, trying to hear their conversation before they discovered him, but to no avail.

  Georgiana looked up and exclaimed, “Mr. Kent. Oh, please join us.”

  Kent nodded and eyed the other two walkers. He bowed to Lady Victoria and to the gentleman moving quickly to Georgiana’s side.

  As her escort leaned down and whispered to her, Georgiana blushed and looked down at the path. “Richmond, I would like to introduce you to Mr. Kent. He is my brother’s friend. Mr. Kent, this is Colonel Fitzwilliam, Victoria’s brother.”

  Kent released his breath and smiled to the two ladies, but eyed the colonel suspiciously. He offered his arm to Georgiana, but the colonel directed him to assist his sister. The four walked on, their talk covering the competitions, Darcy’s inability to putt, and shared acquaintances. Kent felt the colonel’s gaze boring into him with every interaction with Georgiana. The colonel glowered when he caught him winking at her and she, in turn, smiled widely at him, but it tuned into a full scowl when she enthusiastically listed his many good qualities to Lady Victoria.