Feeling the heat from Rawlings’ glare, Darcy rose stepped towards his friend. “You sent only one letter.” He poked his finger on Rawlings chest. “One damn letter! Why did you not write more often? I should be the one who is angry, since I had no idea of what was happening over there. You were inexcusably rude.”
Rawlings knocked Darcy’s hand away and sputtered, “Inexcusable?” He shook his head. “Rudeness is thine name. For your information, I did write a second letter, and it was one of great warning, since it explained the real Mr. Cuffage and the real Mr. Gardiner.” Rawlings began to stomp around the room, each step pounded louder, his face burning and his hands repeatedly opening and closing into fists. “Why did you not take heed of my warning? Why did you bar Mr. Gardiner from your home? He had letters from me for you.”
Darcy stopped Rawlings forward motion by grabbing his arm. “Did you not hear me? I did not receive a second letter. See for yourself!” Darcy moved swiftly to the desk and started rummaging through his old mail.
Darcy quickly flipped through letter after letter, shaking his head, but when he waved his hand over the whole stack, it hit upon the old journal, which fell forward revealing the letter in question. His face drained of all color. He tore it open and read the contents quickly. “Oh my God. Damn.” He looked up with the letter shaking in his hand. “I swear, I did not know it was here. See how poorly the address was written. It would have been brought to my attention immediately otherwise. Everyone was instructed to watch for a letter from you. And to be misplaced on my own desk! ” Darcy called for his man, who entered instantly. Kent followed behind.
“Geoffries, when did this letter arrive?
He examined the letter. “A few days before you left for Rosings, sir. The messenger said he had just recently determined it was yours after holding it for a long period. Mr. Rogers studied it and then suggested I place it here with the other mail not considered urgent. We doubted it was even your letter.”
“Has Mr. Gardiner called here?”
“Yes, sir. You advised me to send him away in such a manner that he would never call again. I followed your orders exactly.”
“Did he have letters?”
Geoffries nodded. “I attempted to inform you, but you did not wish to hear about them, sir. You were strict about him leaving with his letters. I believe he did just that.”
Darcy waved his man away and as he was leaving, he noticed Kent standing in the doorway. Darcy was about to gesture him in when he caught sight of his secretary hurrying away. “Kent, bring Mr. Rogers here. Make haste!”
Kent left to pursue a now fast moving man.
Darcy dropped into his chair. “I wish I had read this before. It would have saved me many problems.”
“I am not finished with you. Today, I will be the speaker and you will be the listener. You will not interrupt.”
Blake remained still, hardly breathing, and not saying a word. He snuggled into the chair, trying to make himself invisible.
“You are the most self-centered cur I have ever known.” Rawlings raised his hand to stop an opened mouth Darcy from speaking. “I said you will not interrupt today.”
“No one, not even Blake, is such a gut-griping skainsmate.” Rawlings looked his way and sent an apology to the man mentioned. Blake tipped his head, and encouraged Rawlings to continue.
“Darcy, all you ever worry about is you. How does everyone treat you? Everyone wants something from you. Are you following what I say? I am sure you are not!”
Rawlings paced up and down the room with his hands clasped together behind his back. He cleared his throat. “I shall start with Hertfordshire, where I first discovered your new-found nature. I did not like what I saw. Were you aware of that? No, you assume everyone admires you. No one in Hertfordshire admired you. They did not even like you.”
Darcy lowered his head; his strength sapped and his heart heavy. First, Elizabeth, followed by Richmond, Kent, Blake, and now even Rawlings. He could not move. He remained motionless and did not attempt to defend himself as Rawlings continued.
“I remember so vividly your attitude at the Assembly Hall dance. It was pompous, to say the least. You had said something callously about Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and with her sitting so close by too, and yet you were unaware she could hear you. That, my friend, is the epitome of arrogance—one does not need worry if a cruel remark is overheard. She heard you, and even from across the room, I knew instantly your comment was unkind from her expression. She was quick to recover.”
Darcy jolted his head up. “What? You are making this up.”
“I speak the truth. Afterwards, I watched her laugh at you with her friend. Kent saw it as well.” Why do you think so meanly of those beneath you? Do not speak, for I will give you specifics to prove my point.”
Standing before his distressed friend, he tapped each finger as he proceeded to identify every instance of his condescending manner, from his hidden true anxiety about the tradesmen taking power away from the aristocracy and current ruling class to his separation of Bingley from Miss Bennet. He reminded Darcy of his haughty attitude towards even those in London society who did not come up to his level. Rawlings spoke for a half hour without stopping for breath. Once finished, he sat down and waited for a reaction.
Darcy had only one question. “Is there anything at all about me that you find worthy?”
Rawlings sighed. “Most everything is worthy, my friend. You are the best of men in essentials, except somewhere you lost sight of the value of others. You are kind, as evident by your assistance to Bingley on managing his estate. You spent your free time helping him with the tenants and their problems, instead of concerning yourself with the leisurely pursuits available to us.”
“How do you know this?”
“Logan, of course, but I have witnessed your other excellent qualities. You spend more funds on charitable institutions than anyone of my acquaintance does. You do not allow anything to harm your own tenants’ lives. Your mining operations are the safest in the country, perhaps the world. You found work for displaced spinners in Derbyshire when machinery took hold in the textile industry and destroyed the cottage industry there. I also am aware that you forced the mills to pay well. These traits belie your prideful belief in yourself.”
Darcy dropped his head.
Rawlings leaned forward and tapped Darcy on the shoulder. “I shall always call you friend. If I were in needed help, you are the only living person that would respond without question and do so secretly. Other gentlemen, having received your benevolence, cannot keep their mouths closed after downing a few drinks. I heard many stories of your generosity during those years I idled my time away in clubs and taverns.”
“But still, it is not enough, according to you and according to everyone.” His words faded at the end.
“I am your friend. But without my fortune, would you have treated me with the same consideration? Would I have been someone that received nary a word from you other than the occasional humph? Yes, I have been blunt, but subtlety did not work whenever I attempted to warn you about your own failings. Not too long ago, you said that once your opinion is lost, it is lost forever. Now prove yourself wrong, and demonstrate your ability to revise your opinions on those you deem beneath you!”
Darcy rose from his chair, watching as his friends glanced at each other. During their university days, there had been a tendency to form separate alliances among the five friends. Sometimes he was with the majority, and occasionally he stood alone to champion a radical stance. Today, he stood alone.
“Darcy?” Rawlings asked quietly.
“I will not respond today. I need to think on all that you say and, as much as I am able, I will be fair. But at this moment, we need to discover the truth about Cuffage.” Darcy directed everyone’s attention to Kent and Geoffries standing in the doorway and holding Mr. Rogers firmly between them.
“Bring him in and shut the door. Geoffries, lock it on your way out.”
Whi
le Darcy paced, Rawlings, Blake and Kent kept their gaze on Mr. Rogers, who had begun to fret for his safety.
“Mr. Rogers tell us who Mr. Cuffage is? And I warn you to tell the truth. I will have you arrested today and brought up on charges of fraud otherwise.”
Rogers swallowed hard and looked at his feet. He raised only his eyes when he spoke. “You are correct, Mr. Cuffage is not whom you think. He is my father, John Roberts. My real name is James Roberts.”
“What did you stand to gain? I took you into my confidence.”
“His business on Bond Street is a front. He works, as I do, for someone rich and powerful. In fact, our employer is a distant relative.”
“What does this man want? I do not understand at all.”
“He wants to defeat your alliance. He knows all, and has put into motion many actions to stop you.”
“Who is he? I demand you tell us now!”
Mr. Rogers sneered at Darcy. “Lord Harold Roberts Winthrop.”
Darcy gasped and dropped in his chair, his mouth agape. “Oh God.”
Blake asked, “The Falcon? Why are you so upset?”
Slumping in the chair, Darcy frowned. “He is my grandmother’s brother.”
Kent shuddered. “Why would he do this?”
“I do not know, but we will soon find out.” Darcy pointed to Mr. Rogers. “You are going with us to The Peregrine House. We will not leave until the Falcon answers all our questions.”
Chapter Twenty
Harold Rogers Winthrop rifled through the papers on his desk while waiting for his guests to arrive, when his butler came into the room, bringing with him the silver tray holding the visitors’ cards.
“Sir, four men have arrived unannounced and they insist on meeting with you immediately. Young Mr. Rogers is among them, but, I daresay, not of his own free will.” The butler handed him their cards.
Winthrop’s brows shot up when read the names, and then, with a shrug of the shoulders, agreed to meet with them. “How ironic the truth will be revealed on the second Saturday of the month. Escort the young men to the drawing room and send Mr. Rogers here.” Winthrop sat at his well-worn desk, and then unlocked the bottom drawer to retrieve a sack of coins. He placed the overstuffed bag on the desktop before the door to his study opened.
“Rogers, it is so good to see you again.”
“My lord.” Rogers bowed and seated himself.
“I have your payment. Oh, I have secured a new position for you, although I must finalize the arrangements.”
“Oh. With a new estate owner?”
“No. He is young man, one of the new industrialists. He will be a force in his own right.” The old man released a humph. “I need to create a buffer against him. He has the intelligence and the funds to destroy us if he is not outwitted early. We must find a way to stop these new industrialists as they call themselves these days.” The Falcon chuckled. “Mr. Kent’s supremacy will be jeopardy too!”
“I informed Mr. Darcy about my father, and that we work for you. Apparently, Mr. Rawlings was able to discover the truth while in America.”
“It is of no consequence. They will discover everything today. I will deal with young Darcy and his friends in a few minutes. Did you pack your things?”
“No. They brought me directly here.”
“I will advise him that I released you to do so. Be quick about it, and do not take anything not yours.”
“Not even the papers in the locked cabinet?”
“Well, perhaps a few documents might make for interesting reading. You did keep a key for yourself?”
Rogers nodded, and pulled the key chain from around his neck. “I have used it many times. I worried it might tip our hand.”
“Tell your father this play has ended. I am sending him on to America. He needs to undo any contract they may have made with Astor. I will provide him with the funds necessary and a letter revoking Astor’s trade rights with China and the East Indies if he does not break the connection. He owes me.”
Rogers took his leave and left promptly for Darcy House.
The Falcon entered the drawing room to find the four men huddled together, whispering to one another.
“Darcy. We need to talk. But first, I request Mr. Kent leave.”
“No, sir. He is my partner… and my friend.” Darcy glanced at Kent, who in turn nodded his head.
“So be it. I shall not deny your wish to degrade yourself in such a manner. I suspect you have questions for me?”
“Why are you trying to destroy our alliance?”
Winthrop smiled. “You have no need for such a partnering. In fact, the time has come for you to know everything. Follow me. Yes, all of you... even you, Mr. Kent. You need to understand the real world you live in.”
Darcy muttered. “It will be easier, I am sure, than learning the truth about oneself.”
Rawlings chuckled and patted him on the back. “Everyone faces their true reflection in the mirror, or in your case, the window pane. It is never what one expects, but one cannot become whole without it.”
“You faced yours?”
Rawlings nodded. “Yes, indeed. Most certainly. I faced all my failings in tavern while nearly unconscious.”
“I might wish to add a few suggestions.” Darcy gave his friend a smirk.
“As you wish. I have learned to listen, observe, forgive, and accept.”
Winthrop looked back towards Rawlings, “How is my dear sweet cousin, Mary?”
“You are related to him, too?” Darcy asked.
“Apparently. She is my mother’s Aunt. Shall I call you cousin now? How did we not know?”
“Good gracious, Rawlings. Anyone looking at you two could see the resemblance.” Blake said. “Of course, we always thought there was a mischievous couple among your ancestors.”
Winthrop led the men up the stairs. Rawlings turned to Darcy, “Can we not take money from our profits and give to an inventor to find a better way to elevate us to the next floor?”
“Mm. A lift of sort! Not possible.” Darcy chuckled. “Besides, with the way you eat those sweet treats, you need the exercise, cousin!”
“Humph.” Winthrop turned to glare at Rawlings as he continued towards the ballroom.
“A dance. He will show us the world through a dance.” Rawlings chuckled, leaned in and whispered, “Why, Darcy, he steals my technique, does he not? Did I not do a good job showing the Hertfordshire society to you?”
“I doubt he is planning on educating me on the value of those without the most impeccable status or connections.”
When they entered the ballroom, the young men gasped. Sitting in chairs spread about the room were twenty or so men of distinction.
“Oh my,” Lord Blake exclaimed loudly. He identified his uncle, Lord Attwood, rising from his chair. Although they had not spoken for years he was surprised to see a member of his family connected in any manner with the Falcon.
“Lord Cheswick!” Darcy said when he spotted his uncle, and then he noticed his cousin, the Viscount, sitting nearby. Rawlings grabbed Darcy’s shoulder when he, too, found his family members; Lord Wolverly and his brother jumped up.
“What is this, no ladies? How can we dance without them?” Rawlings said, tersely.
The Fitzwilliam family, the Wolverly pack and the Lords Dembry, Atterton, and Altook stared at them. There were other distinguished gentlemen present that they had met, albeit briefly, over the years, most members of the circle with whom Blake traveled. Peppered beside the old men were their first-born sons, creating a mixture of the old and the new —the past and the future. Blake’s mouth fell open when Lord Liverpool tipped his head towards him.
A World of Expectations_Book 2_The Confrontation Page 33
