by Leenie Brown
“Who would know such detail and conjure such a story?” asked Richard.
Bingley slumped slightly in his chair as the weight of understanding settled on his shoulders. He closed his eyes and shook his head against the thought. It was a painful recollection of Caroline leaning on the Harris’s arm and seeming pleased to be doing so. She had been scheming her revenge even then.
“Caroline,” he whispered. He looked at Darcy. “Who else could it be?” He rose and paced the room. “She left far too easily on Saturday. She even smiled when saying her goodbyes.”
Darcy sank back in his chair and nodded his agreement.
Richard’s brows drew together. “But your sister was only here and then gone — unless she spoke to someone at the inn.”
Bingley stopped mid-stride as he realized that it was not only his sister who was to blame. No wonder Harris had run away from Pemberley so quickly.
“I will kill him,” Bingley muttered. “How –” Bingley shuddered. “It is disgusting! To make love to a woman and then to turn on her and defame her! It is beyond the pale!”
“You know who is to blame?” asked Mr. Williams.
Bingley nodded. “Without a doubt.”
“Who?” Mr. Williams asked.
Bingley’s face twisted in disgust as he spat the name. “Harris.”
Richard moved to the edge of his chair. “How do you figure?”
“Do you remember how cozy Caroline and Harris looked when walking in the garden?” Bingley shook his head. He should have known his sister was up to no good. She was far too pleasant for having been denied the chance to stay at Pemberley — and that on the heels of learning of Darcy’s engagement and ergo his unavailability to herself.
“And, then,” Bingley continued, “Harris could not remove himself from the premises fast enough. He did not even deign to bid farewell to Miss Bennet. He just foisted her off onto Darcy and me — not that I minded his departure or the foisting. I thought him rude to do it, but this?”
Again, Bingley shook his head. He had wondered at Harris’s willingness to walk away from Jane that day. Harris had been doing an admirable job of placing himself between Bingley and Jane at every meeting. The fact that he had left the field open for Bingley should have sounded warning bells, but Bingley had been just too glad to be rid of the buffoon.
“How widely spread is this rumor?” Richard asked Mr. Williams.
“Assessing the lay of the land are you?” Mr. Williams smiled conspiratorially as Richard nodded. “My man heard it in Lambton at the Black Crow.”
Richard’s brows rose. “Not the sort of place I would have expected Harris to frequent, but then I did not think him the sort to start ruinous rumors, either.” His eyes grew the smallest bit wide as he looked from Darcy to Bingley as both men growled. “Perhaps we should leave Harris to me,” he suggested.
“No. It is my fault that there are any rumors at all. If I had stayed at Netherfield or even returned –”
“If I had not persuaded you to leave!” Darcy interrupted.
“Caroline is my sister.” Bingley was not about to allow Darcy to wear the blame for this. “Nor did I have to listen to you. It is my mess, and I will see to it.”
Darcy stood and crossed the room to where Bingley paced. “No,” he said, grabbing Bingley’s arm. “We will see to it. Harris has maligned my name and Elizabeth’s as well as yours and Miss Bennet’s. I will leave your sister to you, but I will be part of the rest.”
“Perhaps,” suggested Richard again, “Harris should be left to me.”
“Why?” Bingley and Darcy swung toward him and spoke in unison.
“He is under my command. I am able to do more than you might without risking my neck.” He gave them a small smile. “We cannot have Miss Elizabeth and Miss Bennet crying at the bottom of a gallows, now can we?”
Bingley glanced at Darcy and raised a single brow in question.
Darcy shrugged.
“We need to know why he did what he did,” said Mr. Williams. “I know that you may not agree, but, as you said, the Black Crow is not a place Harris would frequent, but it is not unfamiliar territory for Wickham — nor was it for Tolson.”
“You think Wickham is involved?” asked Richard.
“I do.” He turned to Bingley. “Which, I believe, brings us to what you wished to see me about today.”
Bingley looked warily towards Darcy. He had not wished for Darcy to know about the arrangement with Wickham. Darcy had wanted to pay off Wickham, but when he had presented his idea to Williams, Darcy had been told that the matter had been settled. However, Williams would not say by whom.
Bingley cleared his throat and took a step away from Darcy. “He has breached our agreement.” Bingley pulled the letter he had written last night from his pocket and handed it to Williams. “What would you advise? Do I send that or see to it myself?”
“You?” Darcy grabbed Bingley by the shoulder and attempted to turn him, but Bingley shrugged out of his grasp.
“Yes, me,” he replied without turning. “I paid his debts and gave him a small sum to remain silent.”
“And a warning.” Mr. Williams shifted his eyes to look up at Bingley. “A warning must not be given in vain.”
“It has not been,” Bingley assured him. Wickham was not going to walk away from what he had done.
Richard reached over Mr. Williams’ shoulder and took the letter. “You have access to ships?” he asked as he reread the letter.
Bingley nodded. “I do.”
Richard pulled in a deep breath and released it. “Wickham will be expected back with his regiment…” he furrowed his brow as he calculated the leave he knew that Forrester had allowed his men, “two days hence.”
“So he was not returning to his regiment when he visited Kent?” Darcy asked in surprise.
Richard shook his head. “No, I suspect he went to Kent with the purpose of sharing what he knew with Mrs. Collins and at the same time notifying Lady Catherine of your betrothal. He would know about Anne.”
Bingley cursed. “Can we use your plan?” he asked Richard. “Transportation seems too kind.”
Richard gave him a minatory smile. “Not if he can never return, and as you said yourself, voyages can be dangerous.”
Bingley cocked a brow. “Explain.”
“Abandonment of duty is a serious offense.” Richard handed the letter back to Bingley. “Detain the party who is in breach of contract longer than two days hence and then offer him a means of escape to some godforsaken destination. He’ll take it.”
“Kidnapping?”
From Darcy’s tone Bingley could tell he did not agree with Richard’s plan, but to Bingley, it seemed a worthy scheme.
“A bit of ale, a smidge of rum, perhaps some brandy,” Bingley said with a smile. “It is not kidnapping if one is simply too drunk to remember the day. I have a few quid I could allow to be lost in a game or two.”
“Throw in a light skirt,” said Mr. Williams, “and it will be like boiling a frog — cooked before he knows it.”
“I do not like this,” said Darcy gravely.
Bingley turned toward his friend, taking a wide stance and crossing his arms. “He has sullied the names of you and me as well as Miss Lydia, Miss Elizabeth, and Miss Bennet. Do you wish me to trick him into leaving the country or do you prefer me to kill him? His days of causing harm to those we love are done. He will be leaving England either on a ship or in a casket. Your choice, Darcy.”
Darcy studied Bingley’s face for a moment. “You would kill him?”
“I told him I would.”
Darcy’s eyes widened.
“I am from trade. I know people who could cause an accident,” Bingley explained. “We from trade are a rough lot, don’t you know?” he added with a smirk.
“You would seriously kill him?”
“I would prefer not to.” Bingley held Darcy’s gaze.
Darcy sighed. “Can we not just purchase passage for him on a shi
p and send him sailing?”
“You would trust him not to return?” Richard asked.
Darcy sighed again. “No. He is not trustworthy.”
“Then shall we ply him with liquor, cards, and women for a couple of days before buying him passage?” Bingley asked.
“Aye.” Three heads bobbed their agreement as their voices joined as one.
Chapter 12
“It was quite odd,” said Jane, “almost as if they did not wish to serve us.”
Aunt Tess rested the teapot on the edge of the table between pouring cups. “The shopkeepers were curt?”
Elizabeth nodded as she accepted a cup of tea from Lydia. “And there were people whispering as we went by.” She took a sip of tea. “It was not everyone, but several people.”
“And watching us,” Jane added.
Aunt Tess resumed pouring. “I know that this village is not without its gossips, but what could they have to say about you. You have not been here long and have done nothing worthy of gossip.”
“I have,” said Lydia as she passed a cup of tea to Lucy and came back to get one for Mary Ellen.
“But no one knows of your indiscretion,” said Lucy.
Lydia shrugged. “I am the only one of the three of us that has done anything worthy of gossip — aside from Lizzy kissing Mr. Darcy, that is. But that is not whisper and scowl worthy. That is more of a giggling and smiling sort of secret. It must be related to me.” After scanning the group to make certain she had delivered a cup of tea to everyone, she sat down with her own cup.
“It might be,” agreed Aunt Tess, “but we have not shared anything about your arrival with anyone. I do not know how it would have become common knowledge.”
Lydia wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips. “Oh,” she said after a moment of pondering. “Captain Harris enjoys sharing stories. I heard a few good tales being told by him when I was in Brighton. One that seemed to get the most attention was about some poor girl he knew that only lasted half a season and had to return home in shame — something about an imagined compromise — although, to be honest, he did not make it sound like it was imagined at all.” She tipped her head and furrowed her brows. “He did not give a name — he was careful not to do so — but he did refer to her as Misty, I believe. Although I was not part of the group when he was telling it, so I might have misheard from my position.”
“Was there a reason that particular story got so much attention?” asked Mary Ellen.
Lydia nodded. “It seems he knew the young lady and the other officers were curious to know if he would introduce them to her.”
“Why did they wish introductions?” Jane asked.
Lydia’s brows rose as she shrugged. “I really do not know why. It was quite odd. They all seemed interested in her shoes.”
“Her shoes?” asked Aunt Tess.
Lydia nodded. “Something about the heels.”
Aunt Tess bit back a smile. For all the worldly knowledge Lydia seemed to possess, there were moments such as this that showed the girl was still at least partially on the right side of naivety. “I do not think they were referring to her shoes,” she said softly, “especially if they were referring to lifting her heels?”
Jane gasped. “How horrid!”
Lydia blinked and gave Jane a questioning look.
“It is like lifting her skirts,” hissed Elizabeth.
Lydia’s eyes grew wide, and her cheeks flushed. “Oh, if I had known, I would not have mentioned it. It is very improper.”
Aunt Tess gave Lydia’s hand a reassuring pat. “I am glad you did not know,” she assured her.
“Well, I like him even less now.” Lydia placed her cup on the table and crossed her arms. “I know he is your cousin, Mary Ellen, but I just cannot abide a gossip who shares hurtful things.”
Mary Ellen nodded her acceptance of Lydia’s words but refused to lift her eyes from her cup.
“I apologize,” said Lydia. “I did not mean to offend.”
Mary Ellen shook her head. “It is not that.” She took a small sip of her tea. “I suppose we are all going to be family, and you do seem to be the sort to treat something of a delicate nature appropriately,” she glanced at Lucy, who gave her a small nod to continue. “Did he perhaps say Miss D rather than Misty?”
“He may have,” said Lydia. “As I said, I was not in the group to whom he spoke. I just happened to overhear.”
Mary Ellen drew a deep breath. “I am Miss D.”
Lydia’s eyes grew wide, and her mouth dropped open before she snapped it closed.
“I assure you it is not what he made it out to be. I have never done…that.” Her teacup shook a bit as she raised it to take a sip. “I had gone to town for my first season — do you remember that Lucy?”
Lucy smiled and nodded. “You were so excited to go to the dances and show off your new wardrobe.”
Mary Ellen laughed. “I drove my brothers mad with my demands that they help me practice my dances.” She looked at Elizabeth. “They even tricked Darcy into taking a turn just so they would not have to do it.”
“What happened?” Lydia asked.
“I had a lovely time in town. The soirees were all I had dreamed they would be. I enjoyed many strolls in Hyde Park and a carriage ride or two. I did not ever want for a partner at a ball. It was idyllic until,” she paused and took another shaky sip of tea, “I fell. While on a walk at the fireworks display, I slipped and fell. The gentleman on whose arm I was walking toppled with me. He landed on top with me beneath him. Someone saw and the next thing I knew, I was only asked to dance by those gentlemen with a certain reputation.”
“Rakes?” asked Lydia.
“Yes, rakes,” said Mary Ellen, “and known fortune hunters since my dowry is not small.”
“That is horrid.” Lydia’s voice trembled with anger.
“It was, so I left. I asked to return home.”
“Did the gentleman who fell on you offer for you?” asked Lydia.
“No, he was already promised to another. He was only strolling with me because we were friends.”
“And your cousin shared this?” Jane could not hide her surprise. “How could he share that?”
Mary Ellen brushed a tear from the corner of her eye. “I do not know. I did not realize he was sharing it.”
Lydia’s lips were puckered in a scowl. “Dueling is illegal, is it not?”
“Oh, my, yes,” said Aunt Tess quickly. “And I am not certain Marcus or Philip would wish to call out their cousin.”
Lydia blinked. “Why would they do that?”
“They are Mary Ellen’s brothers,” said Aunt Tess.
“You cannot call him out either. You are a lady,” said Elizabeth.
Lydia scowled. “But I am a fair shot.”
Aunt Tess laughed. “I have no doubt you are, but your sister is correct. Ladies do not call out gentlemen.”
“Not even if they have disparaged a dear friend and sister?”
“Not even then, though the gesture is noble,” Aunt Tess assured her.
Lydia sighed and returned to her tea.
~*~*~
Captain Harris jumped down from his horse in front of Aunt Tess’s house. He could see the group of ladies through the window and hear the lilt of female voices. No doubt they were talking about something as important as what ribbon to wear with which dress. He chuckled to himself. Women were such easy creatures to cozen about so many things — a little flattery, an extra bit of attention, a feigned look of sympathy, and if one could share some fascinating story, well, they were as easy to lead along as a dog on a leash.
He smoothed his coat and adjusted his hat. It had occurred to him just last evening that he did not need to give up his pursuit of Miss Bennet. In fact, his chances of success would be even better once it was found out that Bingley’s sister had spread such hateful rumors about the Misses Bennets.
He gave his lapels one more tug and made his way to the door. He was certain Miss Bennet woul
d want nothing to do with Mr. Bingley after such knowledge was made known. Wickham would be pleased to know that not only had he been able to do damage to the Bennets, Bingley, and Darcy with the stories he had shared, but he would also be breaking Bingley’s heart by marrying Miss Bennet. The poor sod. He chuckled as he lifted the door knocker. And Miss Bennet, well, he would see that she was happy enough to provide him with the heir that he needed, but beyond that, she would be left alone.
In fact, he would insist she stay in Derbyshire while he completed his time with the militia. There was no need to dampen his fun by dragging a wife along with him. Now if it were Priscilla, he would be glad to have her about, but Miss Bennet was too particular. He would feel as if he were being watched by his mother or a governess — and that would not do.
Harris waited outside the sitting room as he was announced. It was strange how quiet the room became at the mention of his name, but then, he had not said he would call, so he expected they were merely surprised and delighted. He put on his most charming smile as he entered the room. “Good morning, ladies.” He sketched a gallant bow. “I am happy to have found you all. I stopped at Willow Hall, but Mrs. Abbot informed me you had come here.” He took a seat. “Yes, please, a cup of tea would be lovely,” he said to Aunt Tess’s offer. “I understand you were to do a bit of shopping — some trim for a gown or some such thing?”
“Yes,” said Jane, “Lizzy needed a piece of lace for her wedding gown.”
“And were you successful in finding what was needed?” he asked as Lydia handed him his cup of tea. “Oh!” He jumped a bit as the tea sloshed over the edge of the cup.
“My apologies,” said Lydia. “The toe of my slipper caught on the rug.” She smiled sweetly. “I am grateful the saucer saved your trousers.” Her lashes fluttered.
“It is quite alright,” he assured her, but his smile was not so brilliant as it had been. Lydia had never been pleasant to him — not in Brighton and not since her arrival in Derbyshire either. He was certain the spill had not been an accident, but he would not call her on it at present.
“We were very successful,” said Elizabeth. “Details for the wedding are falling into place as they should.”
