Perilous Siege

by C. P. Odom

  “I am still not comfortable representing all of this work as my own,” Darcy said from his chair. “Most of those men yesterday looked at me as though I had invented this Darcy-Fitzwilliam Telegraph and just instructed Richard on how it worked.”

  “That’s how it needs to be, Darcy. You’re well known, and people will believe you’re head of our enterprise with the aid of some skilled mechanics to do the dirty work. I need to stay in the background as one of those handymen.”

  “It still makes me feel ill at ease.”

  “You deserve it, man!” McDunn said firmly, pounding his fist into his hand for emphasis. “The way you accepted my ridiculous story and didn’t have me sent to the loony bin is the act of an unbelievably insightful man! And generous! Virtually all the money we’ve spent so far has been yours, right?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “But me no buts, friend Darcy—not today of all times. Remember, at some point, possibly within our lifetimes, some inquisitive types might start asking about this McDunn fellow. The possibility will be a certainty if I become too prominent. My story just can’t stand much investigation.”

  “He is right,” Fitzwilliam said. “And I certainly cannot act as though I am anything more than a well-rehearsed salesman. We have to make this your product. You will have to be famous, I am afraid. Bear it like a man!”

  Darcy looked at his cousin unhappily, but he could not disagree with a single word. With a sad nod, he accepted his destiny even if the mantle was going to be most uncomfortable.”

  ***

  After finally retiring for the evening, with the success of the project he had worked on so hard and for so long completed at last, McDunn’s sleep was anything but peaceful. Instead, he was deeply embedded in a most unpleasant dream, one in which young people whom he somehow knew to be his distant descendants played a central part. As he looked on in horror, his relations struggled against a nightmarish future bearing all too much resemblance to the world he had escaped.

  He was impotent to offer either support or advice to these young boys and girls. The boys appeared to be no older than teenagers, and he thought they appeared identical to his memories of himself in high school. Worse, one of the young girls bore an uncanny resemblance to his lost Dancer, and it wrenched at his heart. All of them were enmeshed in a struggle against their own society, which appeared to be breaking down just as his own had. Violence and terrorism lurked around every corner, and all his descendants’ efforts to cope with the dangers confronting them came to nothing.

  But McDunn grew conscious he was in a dream, and with deliberate willpower, he ordered himself to wake up. It was a struggle to do so, but he jerked himself awake just as enemies of all descriptions were closing in on those young people who pulled so strongly at his paternal emotions.

  He sat up in his bed, and his heart pounded, sweat pouring off his face and soaking his nightshirt despite the cool September air.

  He threw back the bedclothes and got up, taking off his nightshirt and using it to dry himself before casting it aside and donning a warm dressing gown hanging from a hook by his bed.

  Thankfully, the details of his nightmare, which had been terrifying because he was so helpless to stop the impending dangers, faded from his consciousness as he became more awake. Still, it took some time and the calming effect of a drink before he was able to return to his bed.

  Chapter 11

  Manners are more important than laws, and upon them, to a great deal, the law depends.

  — George Bernard Shaw, Irish literary critic,

  playwright, and essayist

  Thursday, September 5, 1811

  Darcy Townhouse, London

  “Mr. Bingley has come to call, sir,” Darcy’s butler announced after knocking at the door to his study.

  Darcy was rather surprised since Bingley usually sent a note first, despite his impetuous and even forgetful temperament. He raised his eyebrows at McDunn, who just smiled. Since first meeting Darcy’s friend, he had become accustomed to Bingley’s ways.

  The break in their activities was fortuitous since he and Darcy had just finished their discussion of the financial aspects of their projects, especially their telegraph system. That initial venture was growing even faster than they had dreamed. The first sale of a few critical telegraph lines to the government was followed rapidly by an expansion to provide the same service to the public.

  “Show him in, Sanderson,” Darcy said, and Bingley quickly strode into the room and greeted the two men. Then, as he almost always did, he advanced on McDunn with his hand outthrust for their customary handshake.

  “If you do not cease this manner of greeting, Bingley, people will soon start to think you an American like the major.”

  “Doubtful, Darcy, doubtful. Bingley knows who his parents were while I, like most Americans, was raised by wolves.”

  Bingley cheerfully took the seat Darcy indicated, not at all put off by McDunn’s irreverence.

  “I believe you have something momentous to announce,” Darcy said, “given the bounce in your step and the smile on your face.”

  “I found what I was looking for!” Bingley said excitedly.

  “A young lady to be the companion of your declining years?”

  “Nothing like that! Not at all.”

  “Then, pray tell, what have you found?”

  “A suitable estate and it is located less than thirty miles from this very house! You will—”

  Darcy smiled and raised a hand. “Pause a moment, Bingley. I know you are excited, but it would likely be best if you accepted a glass of this excellent claret and started from the beginning—when you abruptly left town so mysteriously a week ago. Your note to me was not particularly forthcoming as to the reason.” Darcy dug into a drawer and held out a small square of paper.

  Bingley smiled somewhat sheepishly. “It was to investigate a manor house a friend recommended as I said in my note.”

  He stopped speaking at Darcy’s slow smile and shake of his head. He snatched up the note and quickly perused it. His face fell when he saw Darcy was correct.

  “I thought I told you why I was leaving,” Bingley said plaintively.

  “I am afraid not. As you can see, it only says you have received some news and had to depart.”

  “Well, I received a letter from Henderson, a friend from Cambridge, and after informing me of the home he has taken in town, he mentioned a house in the country he had decided not to take—a manor called Netherfield Park in Hertfordshire. His description interested me, and since you and Georgiana were visiting friends, I decided to examine it myself.”

  Darcy nodded solemnly. “Very good, Bingley. Now, since we know why you departed, what are the particulars of this suitable estate you wish to purchase?”

  “Only let, not purchase, Darcy. At least at this time. The house is goodly sized, with enough bedrooms to entertain quite comfortably. And the land looks excellent for the shooting season.”

  “I wonder you have never mentioned the place to me before, which I find a bit worrisome.”

  “I spoke with the new owner and raised that very question. He informed me the house has been vacant for several years, the previous owner having gambled away the family fortune. Netherfield was one of several estates he owned, and there was considerable contention within the family about the ownership of the various properties when he died. The legalities have only recently been resolved so the new owner could make it available for lease.”

  “A house vacant for several years? Such things can be a problem.”

  “I inquired about that, but the owner assured me a small staff has been in residence while the house was vacant. There will be some repairs needed, of course, but the owner has agreed to address them directly.”

  Darcy nodded. He was not fully convinced the house would me
et his standards, but at least Bingley had made enquiries.

  “The owner showed me about the place, and I was more than pleased with the way the house is situated as well as the elegance of the principal rooms. Everything he said in praise of the manor was justified by what I saw, and I resolved immediately to take it.”

  “You examined it in detail, I hope.”

  “Of course, Darcy. Or, rather, as much as I could in a half hour. I had to leave in order to reach London and inform my solicitor of my decision. He is negotiating with the owner’s solicitor at the moment, and if everything is satisfactory, I plan to lease the estate.”

  Darcy gave Bingley a nod as he tried to conceal his disappointment at such an impulsive decision. He consoled himself with the knowledge that Bingley had benefited to some extent from past advice since he had applied more scrutiny than would have been the case in the past.

  “So, what are the conditions of this lease?” Darcy asked.

  “We agreed to a period of two years with an option to buy in a year. I will be responsible for maintaining the house and servants. The owner will deal with the tenants and collect the rents though I will have full rights to hunt the land.”

  “That sounds reasonable.”

  “My sisters were somewhat disappointed I did not purchase an estate of my own, but Caroline has agreed to preside at my table. And both Louisa and her husband agreed to join her, at least for a time.”

  Darcy nodded again though he was not enthused by the news. He was not particularly fond of either sister, especially the younger who he knew wished to preside at his table at Pemberley. He considered them the cross he had to bear because of his friendship with their brother. As for Mr. Hurst…well, he could be a fourth at whist.

  “When do you plan to take possession of Netherfield?” Darcy asked.

  “Sometime in October, I believe, as soon as my solicitor has verified the completion of repairs. I shall keep you abreast of the developments, and I would hope you and your sister—and you also, Major—might join me for an extended visit.”

  “I am sure Georgiana will wish to visit, and she can continue her lessons anywhere. What say you, McDunn?”

  “I am busy, of course, but like Miss Darcy, much of my work can be done anywhere, and Bingley’s estate appears to be reasonably close to town, so I can return quickly if I find it necessary.”

  “So he is hard at work on another task for you, Darcy?” Bingley asked, and Darcy gave a somewhat uncomfortable nod. “You have been rather closemouthed about your plans.”

  “There is no mystery about it, Bingley. The success of our telegraph has given us sufficient profits to expand into other areas. One is our bicycle, which I know I have mentioned. And our new steam engine is already providing power to our own factories.”

  “Most impressive. I am all amazement. I never suspected you had such capabilities!”

  Neither did Darcy, thought McDunn in amusement, seeing again how his friend had to hide his discomfort. He’s still not happy at becoming known as the man responsible for the new telegraph.

  “So your whole party will join me at Netherfield? Excellent, excellent! Well, I must be on my way.” With a quick bow to both, the young man left as energetically as he had arrived.

  Of course, I’m interested in seeing Netherfield, thought McDunn, but I can’t tell either of them why! I suspect, given the timing, that the events Austen described are about to get rolling, and I wouldn’t miss them for the world! If things continue as Austen wrote them, the coming months promise to be quite interesting.

  ***

  Sunday, October 20, 1811

  Netherfield, Hertfordshire

  “Welcome, Darcy!” called Bingley as he bounded down the stairs of the handsome manor house. “I am very pleased to see you. Your note made me fear you would be delayed! This is wonderful!”

  “I only said I might be delayed by business, but the problems were easier to resolve than I anticipated,” Darcy said cautiously, stepping down from his coach.

  “You are just in time for a ball to which I have been invited tomorrow evening. The gentlemen of the neighborhood were quick to call as soon as I took up residence, and they informed me of a dance at their assembly hall in the nearby town.”

  “That was quick work to be invited to a dance after being in residence less than two weeks. But then it is customary in these country neighborhoods to wish to add new members to their limited society.”

  “Yes. The gentlemen have been exceedingly polite and gracious. They were eager to have me attend their dance, and I was quick to accept. And my sisters and Mr. Hurst also wish to accompany me.”

  Darcy nodded his head in understanding as McDunn assisted his sister and Mrs. Sturdivant from the coach, saying nothing more as his party climbed the steps since he was a bit doubtful of the eagerness of any of Bingley’s relatives to attend.

  “From what I was told, there are a number of lovely young ladies who will be in attendance,” Bingley said, beaming. “I know you are not terribly fond of dances, but it would be splendid if all of you attended.”

  “Georgiana cannot do so since she is not yet out. She will have to remain at your house with Mrs. Sturdivant.”

  “I suppose you are right,” Bingley said in disappointment before his good humor reappeared. “But I hope you can attend, Major McDunn! As you are an American, it would be a wonderful opportunity to see more of our British society.”

  “If you don’t think my complete inability to dance would be disqualifying, it would be my honor, sir.” McDunn’s face gave no indication wild horses could not have kept him away from the assembly once Bingley mentioned it. He had often wondered whether he might have the opportunity to personally witness any of the pivotal moments in Austen’s tale, and he was determined not to miss the opportunity.

  I anticipate considerable diversion from the evening’s activities. I love that word, diversion. It’s so very British. I’m growing quite accustomed to it.

  “Excellent, excellent! I am looking forward to tomorrow, and I am sure you will have an enjoyable time even if you only stand and watch as Darcy often does. Now, let us go in. My sisters are eager to become reacquainted with you, Miss Darcy. And with you, Major, though you have already met Caroline. But I want to introduce you to my elder sister and her husband, Mr. Hurst.”

  Over his shoulder as he led them into the house, Bingley continued. “Everyone is very interested in these business enterprises of yours, Darcy. Your new telegraph is much talked of, and they want to hear all the details.”

  I’ll just bet it caught their interest, thought McDunn scornfully though his face showed no reaction. Actually, I expect to find them mostly interested in getting and remaining as far from me as possible, especially since they likely suspect I was the one who ensnared their Mr. Darcy into trade.

  McDunn’s introduction to Bingley’s elder sister and her dumpy husband unfolded exactly as he had expected. Mr. Hurst greeted him politely enough as he would have expected from Austen’s description of him looking the gentleman without possessing the attributes. But his wife responded to her brother’s introduction almost exactly as her younger sister had with words expressing her pleasure at meeting him but with an expression of disdain she made little effort to conceal.

  Do they know how they’re giving themselves away, or do they simply not care? Not that it really matters. Already, Caroline has latched herself onto both Darcy and Georgiana, and she appears to be hanging on their every word. Her objective is unmistakable though I’m not altogether certain of her motives. She doesn’t need to marry for money, not with a dowry of twenty thousand pounds. It must be for the social status such a marriage would give her. It would finally put to rest the disadvantage of not fitting into the highest levels of London society as Miss Bingley. She imagines she’ll do much better as Mrs. Darcy.

&nbs
p; As McDunn looked at Darcy absently responding to Caroline, he knew there was no need for concern about his friend allowing himself to be trapped by her. Though Darcy often mentioned Bingley in conversation, he seldom said much about his relatives. There was only that one time, late at night after a full day of getting prepared for their demonstration at Pemberley, when he confided he mostly endured the attentions of Bingley’s relations in silence.

  But I remember the way his face lit up when he confessed rather shamefacedly that he occasionally provoked them for amusement, much as one might tease a caged animal!

  ***

  Sunday, October 20, 1811

  Longbourn, Hertfordshire

  The estate where Elizabeth Bennet lived with her parents and her four sisters was only three miles from Netherfield Park. The family lived a comfortable existence though with significantly less affluence than either Bingley or Darcy. Their father’s income was a mere two thousand a year, less than half of Mr. Bingley’s. Furthermore, because her husband’s estate was entailed away to a cousin, Elizabeth’s mother considered the finding of husbands for her daughters to be her most important task. If none of them married well—or at all—there would be little money on which she or the girls might live after her husband passed away. Her fortune of five thousand pounds would provide barely two hundred a year while she lived, and barely forty or fifty pounds a year for each girl after her death. That would likely necessitate the girls seeking employment of some kind.

  None of the sisters was thinking as far ahead as their mother, of course, since they were in the bloom of their youth and beauty. The eldest, Jane, was barely two-and-twenty while her sister Elizabeth would not turn twenty for a month. So their excitement this day was totally focused on the upcoming assembly ball, and their interest matched and likely exceeded that of certain parties at Netherfield.

  The sisters had been quite surprised to learn their father had been among the first to call on Mr. Bingley, especially since he had previously declared his firm opposition to doing so. Before he visited, there had been some worry about being introduced to the newcomer since it required a third party who knew both the Bennet ladies and Mr. Bingley. The introduction would now be less difficult but would still require an intercessor such as Mrs. Long or Sir William Lucas since they knew their father would never attend the assembly.