Beginning, Section II, Next Section

Part Five

Posted on Saturday, 11 May 2002, at 11:08 a.m.

The Captain's statement was met with stunned silence. Elizabeth, suddenly feeling her legs incapable of performing the task of supporting her adequately, sat down abruptly in the nearest chair. Darcy turned his back on the others and gripped the mantelpiece forcefully, his knuckles white and his face stony. For some moments the only sounds audible in the room were the crackling of the fire accompanied by the less than harmonious screeching of Darcy's fingernails upon the mantel-shelf as he attempted to regain his composure. The Captain looked extremely uncomfortable and remained quiet, allowing them to digest the news. After several seconds, Elizabeth broke the silence.

"So," said she resignedly, as though to herself, "we are too late."

Darcy, coming out of his introspection suddenly and decisively, kicked the fender violently in anger, causing a shower of sparks to fly upwards and the other two to start at the noise, and turned round, demanding furiously, "Are you saying he has fled Newcastle?"

"I am not sure, but I believe not," replied Perry. "But he has disappeared from his usual haunts."

This produced another astonished silence. After a moment, Darcy appeared to regain a little control of his demeanour. He strode purposefully over to the side-table and poured out three glasses of wine, handing one to Elizabeth, who took it abstractedly. With the other two he approached Perry again and, passing one to him, said in a voice of forced calm, "Captain, please sit down and explain."

"Thank you," Perry said, taking a chair. "Well, sir, when I received your response to my express yesterday, I made some inquiries about Mr. Wickham's current movements. I discovered that no one had seen him since early that morning, when he had called at his rooms for an hour or so before departing -- without revealing his destination. Since then I have made further attempts to discover his whereabouts but have been unable to find anyone who has seen him."

"And you say," Darcy mused incredulously, "that you believe he has not fled. What leads you to that conclusion when his actions would seem to indicate it in the plainest terms?"

"Well, when I went to his rooms and discovered that he had not been seen all day," Perry explained, "I made discreet inquiries of the servants, in order to gather any information I could obtain which would indicate his purpose. They assured me that he left with no more than the clothes he was wearing and I concluded that he had not gone for good. I returned this afternoon and when I discovered that he had still not appeared I sent a reliable man to keep a watch on the place to warn me the moment he returned."

"Well, I see our confidence in you is not misplaced," said Darcy with a small bow, "you could not have done better under the circumstances. But where can he be?"

"That I do not know," the Captain replied. "I have," here he coughed discreetly, "made some inquiries in the likely places I know of, but you are no doubt aware that there are many places he might conceal himself in the rougher districts."

"The nearest ale or whorehouse would probably find the --," muttered Darcy under his breath contemptuously, though not quietly enough to prevent his remark being overheard. The Captain looked a little surprized and embarrassed and Elizabeth gave him a look which bespoke strong shock and disapproval. Darcy started, as he realised he had spoken his inner thoughts aloud.

"I am sorry," said he humbly, bestowing on Elizabeth a look of genuine contrition, "that was not helpful. Please accept my apologies." The Captain nodded his head sympathetically but Elizabeth continued to regard him with dismay and displeasure before averting her gaze. That she had given him no indication of accepting his apology and had turned away in what he was convinced was shame at his outburst made him feel extremely uncomfortable, and he silently berated for his indiscretion. 'Oh hell,' thought he, 'I believe I have got myself in deep water there. To say that aloud, especially with Elizabeth in the room, was unpardonable.'

"I can understand your frustration and anger, sir," Perry said, in an attempt to diffuse the somewhat chilly atmosphere, "It must be extremely painful for any respectable persons, such as yourselves, to hear such things of a relation, even if only a relation by marriage."

Captain Perry rose in Darcy's estimation after this speech, delivered in an earnest tone. 'So you are a diplomat too?' he thought. 'Full marks for effort, though I fear your endeavour might be wasted.' Aloud, however, he replied, "Thank you for saying so much but that does not excuse me. I should be concentrating on the matter at hand instead of indulging in worthless and petty jibes. As you say, we are connected and our task is to discover how to prevent Wickham taking steps which would be injurious to himself and, more especially, his wife." As he finished he looked at Elizabeth with imploring eyes and was relieved to see her expression soften a little, though he felt he might have to do a good deal more later to restore her good opinion.

Another uncomfortable pause ensued. Darcy had lost his train of thought in his self-recriminations and Perry was not sure whether to break the silence or allow the other two an opportunity to dictate the direction of the discourse, should some verbal reconciliation be attempted. Elizabeth, realising this silence was likely to continue indefinitely, determined to restore some equilibrium to the situation and for the first time took an active part in the conversation.

"Tell me, Captain," she asked, "did you see Mrs. Wickham when you called yesterday?"

"No, Mrs. Darcy, I did not," replied he with alacrity, glad for her intervention, "When I called yesterday her maid, a sensible girl from what I can gather, told me she had gone to pay a visit to some friends. Miss Fitton and her sister, I believe she said. When I returned this afternoon, Mrs. Wickham was indisposed and I only spoke to Clara, the maid, again."

"So you do not know if she has any information which may help us? Nor whether she can account for Mr. Wickham's absence or, if unable to, what motive she imputes to it?" Elizabeth continued.

"No madam I do not," Perry answered, "but her maid expressed the opinion that she does not know where her husband is, though she did not appear to become concerned about this until today, which may account for her being indisposed when I called."

"You said before," said Elizabeth, "that the last time Mr Wickham was seen was early yesterday morning, when he called at home for an hour or so. Do you mean that he did not spend the previous night there?"

"No," the Captain admitted, surprized at her insight, "it appears that he did not stay there that night, though her maid communicated that Mrs. Wickham is unaware of it. She informed me that Mrs. Wickham rose quite late yesterday and inquired after her husband and the maid told her he had left an hour or so previously. When Mrs. Wickham asked at what time he had returned the night before the maid dissembled, saying she did not know as it was her night off. Actually, she knew from the other servants' information that he had not been there at all."

"I see," said Elizabeth thoughtfully, then asked hesitatingly, "and do you know anything of their relations, er, how long, for instance, this has been his habit?"

The Captain began to feel a little uncomfortable under the scrutiny of Elizabeth's pertinent questions and steadfast gaze, but could not avoid a direct answer, though he tempered it slightly in deference to her feelings. "Well, for the first four months or so of their residence here they appeared to be quite attached to one another. But in the last two months or so I understand that Mr. Wickham has spent less and less time at home, occasionally being absent for whole days."

Elizabeth nodded her head in understanding. The coincidence in dates between the announcement of Lydia's pregnancy and Wickham's changed behaviour could not fail to register, though she tried to console herself with the thought that the latter may be due to the novelty of his situation wearing off and him finding consolation in other activities.

"And you do not have any indication of where he was?" she persisted. "His military duties, for example, would not be the reason?"

"No, I am afraid I do not know. I have no reason to believe that his duties would account for it, though."

"I understand," Elizabeth responded.

Darcy had listened to this colloquy with unfeigned interest and a growing regard for Elizabeth's sagacity and the Captain's tact and discretion. Under other conditions he would have witnessed her subtle dissection with enjoyment and amusement, but the information being disclosed was disquieting. Since, however, his attempts so far had only led to him making a serious faux pas, he felt quite content to let her take charge uninterrupted.

She appeared to consider for a while, then suggested, "You do not think it possible, Captain, that Mr. Wickham may have been prevented from returning home by accident or mishap?"

"I do not..." he began confusedly, but was interrupted.

"Or some other means perhaps?" This question was accompanied by an innocently raised brow, but her eyes were shrewd.

"I am not sure..." the Captain tried again and faltered.

"In your letter," she prompted, "you mentioned that he had become embroiled with people who frequent the horse-racing. You intimated that they were not the kind who would treat someone who fell foul of them with tolerance. Do you think it possible these people may be responsible for his disappearance -- either because he has determined to keep out of sight for a day or two because they are pressing him, or in a more direct way?"

The Captain's eyebrows rose. He had at first wondered at Elizabeth's presence, both in Newcastle and more particularly at this interview. He had pondered Darcy's reasons for bringing his wife on what was likely to be unpleasant business but now he began to believe he could comprehend it. He realized she had a full grasp of the situation and was following the conversation closely and able to make deductions from what she heard. She had fixed her eyes on him steadily as she asked her questions and he could see the intelligence as well as the beauty in them. He resolved not to underestimate her; or Darcy for that matter -- for he must be a remarkable man to have won her, and an intelligent one to realise she would be an asset in his endeavours and allow her to involve herself. The Captain, being a career military man, had seen too many wives who were treated as mere possessions or adornments and was struck by the fact that here were a couple who were equals or, if anything, she was the senior partner. Looking into those dark eyes, he felt he could begin to understand why. They could make a slave of any man and he felt sympathy and at the same time a pang of jealousy for Darcy. It must be quite something to be married to such a woman, he mused -- fiery, intelligent, stubborn, beautiful -- it certainly wouldn't be tedious! He came to his senses as he realized those eyes were still awaiting his answer.

"It is impossible to be sure," he replied. "It may be, as you say, that he has decided to keep a low profile, but then the question follows -- where is he keeping so well hidden? I do not think he has been harmed. Usually their tactics in such situations are to frighten at first and then slowly increase pressure, so I find it hard to comprehend they would have taken steps which would make it impossible for him to appear -- should he wish to do so."

"Let us hope you are correct, Captain," Elizabeth continued sincerely. "I take it that if they are not responsible they will soon be aware of his elusiveness and take steps to locate him themselves?" she asked.

"Yes, that would be quite likely," Perry admitted sombrely.

"Then we must find him first," stated she simply, but with a conviction that made both the others feel some confidence that they would.

"Yes, we must," Darcy affirmed, speaking for the first time for several minutes, though in a constrained and formal manner which was in marked contrast to his earlier ease when first greeting the Captain. "But it is getting late and we have not even discussed the arrangements for our accommodation. Captain Perry, I hope I did not inconvenience you by taking up your offer of organising matters for us?"

"No indeed sir," Perry answered. "As a matter of fact my General, when I informed him of your intention of travelling here, insisted that he and his wife be allowed the pleasure of receiving you at their house in --- Place."

"That is very kind of the General," remarked Elizabeth, "I hope we are not inconveniencing him or his wife."

"Not in the least, madam, I assure you," Perry said firmly. "He has a large establishment and, moreover, is an acquaintance of your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. He and his wife were most insistent."

"Well then, we shall be honoured," Darcy said, "I have never been in company with General Ashe, but my cousin has mentioned him to me and intimated he is an excellent man."

"Yes, and I believe that I mentioned in my express that he thinks very highly of your cousin as well," Perry responded, "and his wife is a charming woman too. I am sure she will make your stay as pleasant as possible, given the unfortunate circumstances."

"Then we will be delighted to meet her," said Elizabeth.

"Well then, if you are ready we can leave directly," suggested the Captain.

"Yes," Darcy agreed, "I will order the carriage."

The journey was a relatively short one and within a quarter of an hour the carriage arrived outside a fine house in one of the newer neighbourhoods. They were admitted into a pleasant drawing room where the Captain introduced them to General Ashe. He was a well-looking man of some five and forty years, with a benevolent look in his twinkling eyes and a figure which inclined toward the rotund.

"Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, a pleasure," the General greeted them in measured tones, shaking Darcy's hand and kissing Elizabeth's with gallantry, "Allow me to introduce my wife, Mrs. Ashe."

That lady stepped forward readily. She seemed to be eight or ten years younger than her husband and had a pleasant mien, as well as a simple and unostentatious elegance. She smiled at her guests and greeted them warmly, "Mrs. Darcy, Mr. Darcy I am delighted to welcome you. I hope your journey was not too unpleasant?"

Darcy, towards whom this last enquiry was directed, was at first at a loss how to respond. His mask of reserve and diffidence, which had been in evidence since his verbal blunder at the inn, allied with his natural unease in the presence of strangers seemed to tie his tongue in knots. He observed four pairs of eyes regarding him with interest and took a deep breath. "Thank you ma'am, it was tolerable, but..," he began
solemnly and then paused in confusion. About to mention that the circumstances of the journey had been such as to make any consideration of their comfort whilst undertaking it unimportant, but realising that he was unaware to what extent Mrs. Ashe was in possession of the facts relating to those circumstances, he amended his response with, "..er, it has been two long days, though I am quite used to such travelling, unlike my wife, though she seemed to bear it remarkably well."

"Yes, I am used to a more leisurely pace," Elizabeth confirmed, observing his struggles and seeking to put them all at their ease. "But we found very comfortable accommodations on the way and now you have extended such a kind invitation -- and with such warmth -- that I am glad we did not travel at a more leisurely pace, for then we would have had to wait another day before meeting you."

"My dear, how kind of you to say so," Mrs. Ashe responded, gratified. The General beamed in approval at Elizabeth's statement, which was delivered with a pleasant smile and devoid of any trace of insincerity. If there was one thing the General despised it was the insincere or those who sought to flatter, which was something he perceived was not in Elizabeth's nature. He caught the Captain's eye and raised his brow, receiving a smile of amusement in return.

Darcy was no less pleased. Elizabeth had adapted his statement, the last half of which was unplanned and not terribly accurate since Elizabeth was an excellent traveller, and paid their hosts a compliment which immediately made everyone more comfortable. Always nervous with strangers, even those who claimed a previous acquaintance with his cousin, he marvelled again at the ability she had to achieve it so naturally. And to think he had considered coming here without her! He couldn't decide whether the impulse to kick himself or kiss Elizabeth were the stronger.

"You are both very welcome," the General proclaimed. "I have met your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and he is a fine man and a good officer. When I saw him in town earlier this year he spoke of your recent marriage and since then I have had quite a curiosity to meet you both." His eyes twinkled impishly.

"As have I," agreed Mrs. Ashe.

"Then I hope that we shall live up to your expectations," said Darcy more comfortably, "though knowing my cousin as I do..." He gave her a wry smile.

"Yes," she assented, "your cousin does like to spread a little innocent mischief. But do not be alarmed, Mr. Darcy, he only had good to tell of yourself and your wife."

"Especially your wife," added the General with emphasis and a chuckle.

Elizabeth watched Darcy with a little apprehension to see how he would react to this statement. He had learned to laugh at the Colonel's praises of her when they were in company together, since they both knew the Colonel only said them to discompose him and the one thing the Colonel loved was to see Darcy with his guard down. How he would respond to hearing them repeated by relative strangers she was less sure. She was steeling herself to break into the conversation when he turned and gave her a look which she usually saw only in their private moments together and nearly melted her bones.

"Well then, for once I have no reason to dispute with him," he said quietly but decisively, gazing at her in undisguised admiration the whole time. She felt herself blush and her knees weaken. He broke his gaze and turned back to Mrs. Ashe and smiled, which allowed Elizabeth a moment to attempt to regain her composure.

The Ashes and the Captain, having witnessed this exchange, were at a loss for words and the conversation faltered. The Captain, having perceived some of Elizabeth's qualities during their conversation at the inn, now began to apprehend some of Darcy's. That she could have power over him he had understood but that Darcy could reciprocate in such a decided manner, in public too, made him believe he was beginning to understand their mutual regard. The General was no less impressed by Darcy's reaction to his gentle leg pulling. Rather than being offended or attempting to laugh it off he had used it to pay his wife a compliment in the most pointed manner.

Mrs. Ashe was more interested in Elizabeth's response, and being the closest of the three could observe it better. She had seen those dark pupils dilate immediately and the mouth form itself into a small pout -- though certainly not of disapproval. This had been accompanied by a becoming blush which had spread over every inch of visible skin from her forehead to her neck and shoulders. She had never seen a more physical reaction to a look, all the more remarkable since it was involuntary, and suddenly felt the room was rather warm.

After several seconds of silence, which seemed much longer, the General spoke genially, "Well, my dear," he said to his wife, "I am sure Mrs. Darcy would like to see their rooms, perhaps you should show her."

Elizabeth, suppressing a laugh at the implications of this statement considering what had just happened, expressed her approval of this scheme and she and Mrs. Ashe departed, though not before Darcy had given her a look she understood.

"Mr. Darcy, can I offer you a glass of brandy in my library?" the General asked.

"Thank you, General, that would be most agreeable," Darcy responded, his eyes still fixed on the door through which the ladies had exited.

"Perry, you will join us too, I'm sure," added the General, leading the way.

"No doubt the Captain has acquainted you with the latest news regarding your brother-in-law, Darcy," the General began, when they were comfortably ensconced in the library, each with a large glass of his best brandy.

"Yes, he has," Darcy replied, "and I must thank you, General, for your allowing the Captain to spend his time and energy helping me in these matters."

"Oh not a bit, not a bit, say nothing of that," the General proclaimed, "we are happy to oblige you. When I was informed that Wickham had failed to report for duty for two days, naturally I had to take an interest, and the Captain came to me and told me of your cousin's inquiries and your own intention to travel here to aid matters. As a matter of fact, I was a little surprized that Colonel Fitzwilliam did not contact me when he wanted information about Wickham, but I think I can understand his reasons. Not only is Perry here better suited to dealing with the people most closely involved, but my position makes it difficult for me to turn a blind eye if I hear anything really serious."

"Yes, I confess," agreed Perry, "that knowing he had an acquaintance with you I too was surprized that he did not write to you, sir. But you are right, I believe. He would not want to put you in an equivocal position, where his friendship may make unreasonable demands which are at variance with your military responsibilities."

"Quite right," the General concurred, "for all his easy manners and jocular talk off-duty, Fitzwilliam strikes me as an intelligent and forward thinking man."

"He is, though he tries to hide it sometimes," said Darcy thoughtfully, swilling his glass and looking at the amber liquid against the light. "But if I may ask, how long have we got available to us before you will have to take official notice of this absence of Wickham's?"

The General pondered this question seriously. "Well, I think I can promise you a few days at least, say a week at the outside," he replied after consideration.

"Thank you sir, I am much obliged to you," Darcy said, "now we must plan how to use the time if Wickham does not reappear of his own accord."

"Yes. What are your thoughts, sir?" Perry inquired.

"Well," Darcy considered, "there are, it seems to me, two avenues open to us. First I should like to be apprised with all the information you have, and any more we can obtain, about his finances; who his creditors are and what he owes. This may explain why he is lying low and I shall, anyway, have to meet with these people and pledge myself to cover his debts."

There were murmurs of protest at this. "Sir, is there no other way?" asked Perry, "I am sorry to say this but I am almost inclined to believe that a real scare may be good for the man. If you simply pay off his creditors, what is to stop him continuing this profligate lifestyle?"

"What else can I do?" Darcy replied with feeling, "I can not have Wickham thrown into debtor's prison and dismissed from the regiment. While he remains married to my wife's sister I have little choice."

"Yes," the General agreed sombrely, "your thoughts are obviously for your wife and her family. And I can understand and appreciate it. And there is Mrs. Wickham to consider, though -- I beg you will not take offence Mr. Darcy -- having met Mrs. Wickham and now your wife, I can scarcely believe they are sisters."

"Do not worry, General, I find it hard to believe myself," Darcy said, and lapsed into silence. The three ruminated for a while.

"What was the other aspect you want to look into?" asked the Captain after some moments.

"Er.." Darcy came out of his reverie, "oh yes, well it is Wickham's domestic situation and his...er...his.."

"Moral behaviour?" provided the Captain, to Darcy's relief.

"Yes."

"You think one of seductions or assignations may have taken a turn which has caused him to hide himself away?" suggested Perry.

"Well, it must be considered," Darcy replied, "and we must find out what we can discreetly, to ensure we deal with tact and delicacy with Mrs. Wickham. We would not want her to discover about these things through some other means."

"Indeed," agreed the General. "I understand she is with child?"

"Yes, sir," Perry confirmed.

"Then we must protect her as much as possible from any unpleasant repercussions," the General said.

Upstairs, Mrs. Ashe had shown Elizabeth a lovely suite of rooms, in which Helen, her maid, and Danvers, Darcy's valet, were already unpacking their trunks. After barely twenty minutes in each others company, each found herself warming to the other. Having expressed her thanks again for their hospitality and her delight at the accommodation she asked Mrs. Ashe how well acquainted she was with Lydia.

"I have met her only at social functions and once or twice at the homes of mutual friends," Mrs. Ashe replied, "I could not say I know her well, though I know some of those she socialises with quite well."

"I see," said Elizabeth, "and would you think me impertinent if I asked you about them sometime? I do not know how much your husband has told you of the reasons for our journeying here, but I am concerned for my sister and I would like to know your thoughts on those she spends her time with."

"Of course, I am willing to help in any way I can and I could never believe you capable of asking for information without good cause," Mrs Ashe replied earnestly. "My husband has only told me that Mr. Wickham's behaviour has given cause for concern and that you and your husband are here to try to help and look after your sister if the need arises."

"Mrs. Ashe, thank you," Elizabeth said simply.

"Would you call me Catherine, my dear?" Mrs Ashe asked.

"Of course, if you will call me Elizabeth."

"Certainly," she replied. "Now I am sure you are tired, despite what you said earlier, so I will let you get some rest. I have ordered hot water should you want to bathe. If you require anything else, then please do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, Mrs..., sorry, Catherine," Elizabeth said.

"You are welcome." She turned to leave and had almost reached the door when Elizabeth stopped her.

"Catherine?"

"Yes?"

"What was it really that Colonel Fitzwilliam said about Mr. Darcy and myself?" she asked nervously.

Catherine laughed softly and retraced her steps, asking mischievously, "Do you really want to know my dear?"

"Yes," Elizabeth answered, "as long as it is not too shocking or does not give me a swelled head."

Catherine laughed again, "I can promise the one, but not the other," she replied. Elizabeth looked at her quizzically. Catherine glanced around to ascertain the servants were not within earshot and leaned close to Elizabeth, saying quietly, "He told us that your husband had had the sense to marry for love, to marry someone who would make him a better person and to marry someone who was his equal."

"His equal," Elizabeth exclaimed incredulously, "but he knows I was a country gentleman's daughter with no dowry."

"Yes, but I don't think he was referring to social position or money and, having met you, I believe he was correct. Goodnight."

Darcy, beginning to feel the fatigue of the day creeping up on him, aided by the General's brandy, and wishing to see Elizabeth before she was asleep, was trying to think of a way to terminate their conference without appearing rude. Luckily, the General achieved it for him by saying, "Well, Darcy, I am sure you will want to rest, as you have much to do on the morrow. But shall we just recapitulate what arrangements we have made?"

"Yes," agreed he with alacrity. "Captain, you have a man watching Wickham's house?"

"Yes, he will report as soon as there is any sign of him appearing or any other development."

"Good," the General remarked, "Perry, see we have someone to relieve him when necessary."

"Yes, sir."

"My groom, Farrow, is available if you need him, Captain," Darcy offered.

"Thank you, but that will not be necessary," Perry replied, "the General has given me leave to utilise some of our men to do the job."

"General, that is most helpful, I thank you."

"Well, got to give 'em something to do," the General said with a laugh. "I have also spoken to the local magistrate, who is a friend of mine. He has spoken to the Constables and the men of the watch and asked them to report anything unusual to him, which he has promised to pass on. He has given them a description, so we have quite a few pairs of eyes looking. Since I have asked for his discretion and he has no grounds anyway, they are ordered not arrest Wickham but to follow him and report."

"General," Darcy responded, "I hardly know what to say."

"Well, as I said, he is a friend," said the General modestly, "and we have to give ourselves the best chance possible."

"True," agreed Perry, thinking about the possibility of the horse-racing fraternity getting to Wickham first.

"I suggest we meet after breakfast and Perry can let you know the details of all he has discovered about Wickham's creditors," proposed the General.

"Excellent," Darcy said, "then we can plan the next step. I believe my wife will want to visit Mrs. Wickham tomorrow morning, which will give us a start in discovering some details about his domestic situation."

"Good," the General remarked, "Perry, why do you not join us for breakfast so we are ready to start promptly afterwards."

"Thank you, sir, I would be delighted."

"Well," said the General, ringing the bell, "I think, Darcy, we have kept you from your...er, rest for long enough."

Anxious as he was to see Elizabeth before she was asleep, Darcy could not but admit the effect that the long days travel had wrought on his appearance. He felt unkempt and dirty and so called Danvers to prepare him a bath, which he took as quickly as the requirement to let it perform its office effectively allowed. Having dismissed Danvers, he dressed himself in his night-clothes and robe and entered the bedchamber quietly, lest Elizabeth already be in arms of morpheus, and with a little trepidation.

She was sitting in one of the armchairs before the small fire, reading some papers or letters and did not hear his approach. He watched for some moments, with the intention of trying to ascertain her demeanour, but his efforts were impeded by the mere sight of her, which distracted his thoughts almost before he had commenced. She was dressed only in her night-gown, for it was a mild night, her hair was down and the fire and candlelight was playing on her complexion, which looked fresh and displayed not a trace of two days travel on dirty or dusty roads.

Darcy actually groaned involuntarily. When he should be humbling himself before her, for his unpardonable outburst at the inn and his uncomfortable manner in first greeting the Ashes, here she was driving his thoughts into quite a different direction. Seeing her sitting there, perfect in every imaginable way to his eyes, made him feel even worse about his earlier behaviour and it was only with great self-control that he managed not to rush over and prostrate himself at her feet. But he was spared any further contemplation by her turning, on hearing the sound he had made, and smiling at him.

This was too much even for Darcy. He gripped the door frame with one hand, while the other came up to cover his mouth in a fist as he struggled to regain control of his thoughts and body. Elizabeth, noticing this extreme reaction to a simple gesture of greeting, regarded him with concern and asked, "Fitzwilliam, what is wrong? Are you unwell?"

After a few seconds, he regained his composure a little and, shutting the door behind him quietly but with deliberation, he crossed over to her as steadily as his legs would allow and, taking her hands, knelt in front of her chair, so their eyes were brought level.

"I am well," he replied, "the only thing that ails me is that I may have done something this evening which would make you justifiably angry with me." He paused and looked down at their hands, clasped together on her lap, and after some hesitation continued, "My unguarded outburst at the inn. All I can offer in my defence is that my anger and shock at hearing the Captain's news of Wickham's disappearance got the better of my self-possession."

Elizabeth, who had until the moment of this declaration feared that Darcy had some further terrible revelation about Wickham's misdemeanours to convey to her, imparted to him in that conference in the library, sighed audibly in relief. She had almost forgotten about the incident which seemed to distress him so, as the further discussions with the Captain and the Ashes, and especially that look she had received from him just before leaving the drawing room, had placed other thoughts uppermost in her mind. She considered at first that he had overestimated her shock and disapproval because of her reaction at the time, but decided there was more to this response than that idea suggested. Then she recalled with dismay that she had not acknowledged his attempts to apologise and began to discern the underlying reason for his behaviour. 'Of course,' thought she, 'he cannot bear to think that he has made me think less of him. He still has that insecure voice telling him that he loves me more than I do him, and this business with Wickham is dragging him back to where he was last year.' Recollecting how hard he had struggled to win her good opinion, she berated herself for allowing him to imagine that she had permitted a few intemperate words spoken in haste to damage it. She remembered the vow she made to herself at the inn in York, to provide support to his emotional needs during this time and avoid, if possible, a return to his reserved manner and reflected with some mortification that she had failed the first test of this resolve. She considered her response. She knew he was a man who would be neither convinced nor contented by her dismissing his fears summarily as baseless -- he would never be persuaded to anything without lucid reasoning -- but how was she to proceed? An eloquent avowal of love? No, too likely to lower his own opinion of himself and possibly too insightful, as it may betray her comprehension of his struggles, which was not her intention. No, an honest answer, tempered with a little humour, seemed called for.

"My dear, I can well understand how your anger got the better of you. It was indeed a shock to discover we may have failed before we have begun," she replied sincerely. Then with a return to her playful manner added, "Indeed I am glad it was only the fender that bore the consequences, for I fear if the inn's pet cat had been near it would have suffered permanent damage."

He could not help laughing a little at that picture, though he felt he had escaped too lightly and answered, "You are too lenient, my dear."

"And you are too hard on yourself," she responded.

"And to think I considered coming her without you!" he exclaimed. "Perhaps I should have been the one to stay at home. You asked much more pertinent questions of the Captain and made the Ashes welcome us with open arms, whilst I stood there not knowing what to say."

"Enough," she said decidedly, "I must speak plainly. I would much rather have to endure the occasional outburst of emotion than see a return of that Darcy reserve you displayed so well when we first met. I would not have you act a part or retreat behind a mask to spare my feelings. The one incident was the cause of the other. You said something you regretted and it made you uncomfortable with the Ashes because you mistrusted yourself to speak easily. I am sorry if my reaction to what you said at the inn is part of the reason, but the Captain understood why you said it and does not think any the less of you."

"And you?" Darcy asked, unable to keep the anxiety from his voice.

"I love you, and if you want me to think any less of you, then you are going to have try a great deal harder than that." She let go of his hands and stood up, leaving him still on his knees before the fireplace, feeling -- and, he was convinced, looking -- rather ridiculous while she extinguished the candles.

"Now come to bed," she said from the shadows.

Part Six

Posted on Thursday, 23 May 2002, at 8:32 a.m.

The following morning, having dressed and dismissed Danvers, Darcy entered the dressing room allotted to Elizabeth in a much happier mood than he had been early the previous night. Helen, Elizabeth's maid, was just putting the finishing touches to her mistresses hair, and he paused in the doorway to watch the final few curls being placed in position. Elizabeth, observing his presence in the mirror of the vanity after a few seconds, gave him a demure smile accompanied by a look of inquiry and he returned the smile without moving from his post.

"Thank you, Helen, that will be all," Elizabeth told the maid who, at first confused by this instruction as she had yet to tidy away Elizabeth's night-dress and gown, soon caught sight of Darcy and hurried away with a small curtsey and a "Yes, ma'am." As she crossed the room, passing Darcy in the doorway, she unsuccessfully tried to hide the smile that crossed her lips.

After the maid closed the door behind her, Darcy approached Elizabeth, holding her eyes locked to his in the mirror all the while. He placed his hands on her shoulders and leant forward to plant several kisses on the nape of her neck and behind her ear, eliciting a sigh of pleasure.

"Have I told you how beautiful you are this morning?" he inquired, his voice somewhat muffled by his endeavours.

"Twice," Elizabeth supplied, her voice attempting a disinterested tone to tease him, though she wore an amused expression.

"Then I trust telling you again will convince you that I am in earnest," he replied. He lifted her from her seat and, standing her in the middle of the room, looked her up and down, even going so far as to walk around her in the manner of an art critic examining a statue or vase. She was dressed in a gown of the deepest blue, with a square cut neckline which, though simple, flattered her figure and showed off her colouring to the best advantage. He nodded once or twice as he progressed and straightened a fold or two with pursed lips and a narrow eye, as he had seen his tailor do, and finally stepped back with one hand on his chin.

Elizabeth bore this behaviour as well as possible, alternately suppressing a laugh or blush, and when he stood away from her in that attitude, raised her eyebrows in inquiry.

"Well?"

He seemed to come out of his abstraction and replied solemnly, "Well, I have no expert knowledge or understanding of ladies fashion, as you know, except that I have for some unaccountable reason an intense dislike of orange," here she broke into melodious laughter, "but I am convinced I have never seen a woman who less needed to rely on the use of excessive adornment or discreet concealment to be seen at her best advantage." She blushed slightly and he finished in a huskier tone, "Indeed, you do look very beautiful this morning."

She did not mistake the look which accompanied this statement, but was forced to reply with more than a tinge of regret in her voice, "Fitzwilliam, we are expected at breakfast."

"I know," he answered wistfully, "but before we go down, I think one addition is required to your ensemble." Elizabeth looked at him quizzically, and he crossed back to the vanity and picked up something. Returning, he positioned himself behind her and slipped something around her neck.

"Your garnet cross, you have forgotten it, my love," said he, fastening it and planting some light kisses on her neck as he did so.

"So I had, something must have distracted me," she agreed amused.

"Well I hope the effect will soon wear off," Darcy said, coming around her and taking her hands in his, "because I believe we will both need to be at our best today and I am rather distracted too."

"What are your plans for this morning?" asked Elizabeth.

"The Captain, the General and I are going to immerse ourselves in the contemplation of Wickham's financial situation," he supplied.

"By which you mean you are going to arrange to pay off his debts," she suggested with a shrewd look, and in a tone of slight disapproval.

"Well..," Darcy said, in some discomfort at her intuitiveness, "let us see how things stand before making any decisions."

"Remember what Colonel Fitzwilliam said," Elizabeth reminded him. "Do not allow Wickham's connections to us -- to me -- to cloud your judgement. You have been too lenient towards him before."

"You would not want to see Wickham disgraced and dismissed from the regiment?" he asked, surprized, "What about your sister -- her baby?"

"I am worried about them," she said sincerely, "but I would much rather face the consequences now than see this repeated in a year, or two years, or every time Wickham feels you will be there to rescue him from the consequences of his own folly." She paused and then added firmly, "This must stop here. I have no wish to go through this again, and I believe it would be better for Lydia too, though she does not know her own best interests."

Darcy pondered this statement for a moment, then agreed, "Perhaps you and Fitzwilliam are correct. You have shown more intelligence and resolution than I have since we arrived here, I fear. I will take no precipitate action. I will simply gather any information which will aid us until such time as Wickham reappears, or we have proof he is fled."

"Very well," Elizabeth gave him a smile and adjusted his cravat, which had become slightly disarranged by his earlier attentions to her neck. "I trust you, you know that, and I am sure you will take the right decisions, with or without my help. I hope Lydia will appreciate what you are doing."

"Speaking of which, I assume you intend to visit her this morning?" he inquired.

"Yes, I think that would be wise," she said, "would you wish to accompany me?"

"No, I think you may do better alone. My presence may be a hindrance," he admitted ruefully.

"Not to me," countered Elizabeth provocatively.

"I will ask Farrow to escort you," Darcy told her, ignoring the implication, "He can try his luck with the domestic staff. I hope I have no need to warn you not to go anywhere but in the carriage?"

"I will be careful," she promised, "shall I reveal to Lydia that you are here?"

"That I leave for you to determine," he suggested wryly, "you know the likely reaction better than I."

A little unsettled by this response, which showed he had some intuition of what Lydia thought of him, despite his efforts on her behalf before, she asked, "What shall I do if I learn anything of Wickham's whereabouts?"

"Send word back here immediately by Farrow," replied Darcy decidedly.

"And if he makes an appearance?"

"Kick him."

After breakfast, and before joining the Captain and General in the library, Darcy called for Farrow and instructed him on what he was required to do that morning.

"Mrs. Darcy wishes to call on her sister, so you will accompany her there," he told him. "Please ensure she goes nowhere except in the carriage or with an escort."

"Yes, sir," Farrow nodded in understanding, "I will make sure she doesn't take any risks."

"I trust you will accomplish your usual feats by becoming a valued confidant of her sister's domestic staff within moments of you arrival?" asked Darcy wryly.

"It will be a pleasure, sir," replied Farrow with a grin. He was personable young man who liked to exercise his talents on Darcy's behalf, though he was sensible enough never to engage himself or his object in too close an intimacy.

"No doubt, but be careful, man," Darcy admonished, good-naturedly, "you nearly got yourself in trouble with Mrs. Younge's kitchenmaid last time we were trying to gather information."

"I had no idea she would lock the door behind her, sir," Farrow said uncomfortably, "I had to climb out of the scullery window."

"Yes, your tree climbing skills came in quite handy," Darcy laughed, "though I still had to bribe Mrs. Younge to get the information we required, so you nearly lost your virtue in vain. Just watch your step this time. As you know, our object is the same as last year."

"Find that --- Wickham, you mean," supplied Farrow with some bitterness, his face clouding.

"Yes," Darcy admitted, then added more gently, "I know you have good reason to hate him Farrow, as have I -- even more reason than I, in fact. But let us not allow that to affect our judgement or impede our endeavours."

"No, sir," Farrow agreed with emphasis. He considered for a moment and then asked, "Do you think he has fled again, then?"

"Possibly, or he may be in hiding somewhere," Darcy told him. "The Captain has a man watching the house and he has not returned since the day before yesterday, though he thinks Wickham has not absconded because he has not taken anything with him, not even a change of clothes."

"Doesn't sound too convincing, sir. It would be like him to think of that to give himself some time before his wife raises the hue and cry."

"True," Darcy reflected. "Perhaps after escorting Mrs. Darcy to her sister's you had better make inquiries at any likely place he may have hired a carriage or horse."

"Yes, sir."

"There are bound to be a large number of them," Darcy said with sympathy, "but you have never allowed the difficulty of a task to deter you before."

"Thank you, sir," Farrow said, gratified at the compliment.

"I have requested Mrs. Darcy send word by you if she discovers anything pertinent," Darcy informed him, "I will do likewise if anything occurs here while you are gone."

"Very well, sir."

"Thank you, Farrow and..," Darcy paused a moment, then gave him a look which betrayed more emotion than Farrow was used to seeing him display, "..take care of Mrs. Darcy."

"I will, sir, trust me," said Farrow firmly.

Darcy joined Captain Perry and General Ashe in the library and the General began by asking Perry to report whether any news had been obtained since they last met.

"Nothing but negative information, sir," Perry admitted, "Wickham has not been seen at his house and no sightings of him have been reported. Mrs. Wickham has stayed indoors since I last visited and there does not appear to have been any communication received from the outside."

"You think she might be helping him to lie low?" asked the General, incredulously.

"Well, no not really. The maid said she believed Mrs. Wickham did not know where he was," Perry reminded them. "Though it is not impossible for her to be involved I cannot believe Wickham would rely on her discretion."

"Quite right, too," Darcy interjected, reminded of that lady's betrayal of his own involvement in her marriage. He felt sure Wickham was too sensible to rely on her secrecy.

"Yes, she is a little...indiscreet occasionally," Perry affirmed. "What I had in mind was the possibility we discussed last night -- Wickham being unable to return for some reason, whether voluntary or not. I thought perhaps he -- or anyone else responsible -- may try to get a message to his wife."

"But why should anyone...," the General began, then, divining what he thought was Perry's meaning, started. "My god, you mean kidnapping and extortion?!" he exclaimed in astonishment.

"No, I believe that may be putting the case too seriously, sir," Perry corrected. "I mean that if someone is preventing him from appearing then they would want to ensure there is no hue and cry while they exert pressure to get what they want. In these circumstances, they would want to give his wife a plausible reason for his absence. Therefore they may themselves communicate with her in some way, though getting Wickham to do it would be preferable. Though I still am more inclined to believe that this disappearance is of Wickham's own choice."

"I agree," Darcy said.

"Yes," the General agreed, though still somewhat discomposed.

"There are so many unpleasant possibilities that it may be better not to dwell on them," Darcy suggested. "Perhaps we would do better to concentrate on the task at hand."

"Yes," the General aquiesed, "Perry, tell us what you have discovered in regard to Wickham's debts."

"Well, sir," Perry replied, taking his notebook from his pocket and opening it so he could refresh his memory as to particulars, "as to his creditors. First of all there are his fellow officers who also like to indulge in card play and the billiard table. Lieutenant Morris, Privates Cooper and Venables and Captain Hammond." As he named them the General looked uncomfortable and began to pace up and down with his hands behind his back and his chin lowered.

"Are these the only men of the regiment who hold Wickham's notes of hand?" the General asked.

"They are the only ones that I can discover who are owed more than a few pounds, sir," Perry answered. "There are another group of about half a dozen who he owes small sums to. The ones I have named would all appear to be his creditors for sums of up to perhaps an hundred pounds."

"That is not very much," Darcy mused.

"No," Perry acquiesed, "and therein lies another tale. I had heard that up to two or three weeks ago the sums owed to his fellow men were much greater, and more of them were involved. I have heard tell that someone has been going around buying up Wickham's debts."

"Really!?" the General stopped in his tracks. "Why would someone do that? I would not think him a safe risk."

"Definitely not!" said Darcy with conviction.

"That may be part of the attraction, sir," Perry suggested. "If the people he is in debt to believe there is not much likelihood of them seeing their money, they might be willing to let someone else take them over at a rate which would be tempting to someone with money and experience of these things. Many might prefer to take, say, a certain fifteen shillings in the pound now rather than wait for something they may never see."

"Good point, Captain," Darcy acknowledged, "but it would suggest someone, as you say, with experience in these matters and ready cash to hand. Do you have any suspicions as to that persons identity?"

"I do, sir." Perry admitted, "but no proof, only hearsay. If you will allow me to continue to recount what I have managed to discover, you may better understand my suspicions."

"Of course," Darcy nodded.

"Well, the second set of people of interest to us are those involved in the horse racing, as I mentioned in my express," Perry continued. "Of these, I'm afraid I can offer very few particulars. As you are aware, it is extremely difficult to obtain information from that fraternity without arousing suspicion. I first heard about Wickham's involvement with them from," he paused uncomfortably, "...well, someone who accompanied him on one of his visits to the meetings."

The General's eyebrows rose at this information, but he could see Perry's reluctance to go into details, so he interjected with, "Do not be uneasy, Captain. I shall not demand you name the man. What we want is to solve this Wickham problem."

"Thankyou, sir. You are right in your suspicion that it was one of the men, but I have spoken to him and I think it will be a long time before he ventures forth on such pursuits again. Indeed, after he saw Wickham getting himself into trouble he swore off he races himself, before my interference."

The General nodded, "Well, thank the Lord for that. I don't want to be dealing with another fool who's got himself into trouble as soon as we've dealt with this. What did you learn?"

"Not much, I'm afraid," admitted Perry. "It seems Wickham had some fortune to begin with but his luck quickly turned and my source says that he soon found himself on the wrong column of many a bookmaker's ledger. They had allowed him to have accounts with them after his early luck, so he was able to make wagers without having to hand over any stake. You can imagine how things must have progressed. He probably played one off against the other as long as he could, but these people keep each other informed of their business, they are not fools. When they discovered the state of things, they would refuse any more wagers from him and demand payment for his previous attempts to win. I have heard Wickham had several encounters with a rather unpleasant chap who they use to 'persuade' people settle their accounts promptly."

"Do you know anything about this man? His name or where he might be found?" Darcy asked.

"Not much. He and his 'associates' are pretty discreet, from what I have heard. My source did encounter him once when in Wickham's company but they went off by themselves to discuss matters. He thinks he heard Wickham address him as 'Simkins' or 'Simmons' or some similar name. As to where he is, well, he might be in any low class inn within a forty mile radius."

Darcy pondered for a moment. "Well, it is not much to go on, but I believe we may be able to find out more if we adopt the right approach," he ventured. "In fact, I think this is the sort of thing my groom, Farrow, may be able to undertake with some hope of success. He is a first class man with horses and seems to know an inordinate number of the people involved in breeding and training them. I have given him some other inquiries to make today, but I will ask him to look into it as soon as he is able."

"Very good," the General said, "who is next Perry?"

"Well, sir, there are the local tradesmen with whom the Wickham's have accounts. Wine merchant, Butcher.." Perry began.

"Oh, I think we can pass those, don't you think Darcy?" the General interrupted.

"Yes, I am sure we can find what information we need in that quarter from Mrs. Wickham," Darcy agreed. "I am convinced she is not the most efficient or economical mistress. No doubt she would welcome some advice and help from Mrs. Darcy," he added with a wry grin.

"Ahh," said the General appreciatively, and grinned, "no doubt."

"Then that just leaves two more people," said Perry.

"Really?" the General said in surprize, "I thought we had finished."

"No, sir," Perry replied calmly. The General frowned and was silent while Perry waited for him to continue.

Darcy looked at the Captain shrewdly and then prompted, "Do I take it this is where the mysterious person you were alluding to earlier enters our discussion again?"

"Yessir," Perry nodded, smiling at Darcy's deduction. "There are at least two private individuals who also hold notes of hand from Wickham."

"I see," Darcy said, contemplating this information with much interest. "What do you know of them?"

"Quite a lot, sir. They are fairly well known hereabouts," Perry answered.

The General, who had been following this, raised his eyebrows in inquiry and asked, "Well known? And what is known -- is it good or bad?"

Perry smiled. "A little of both, sir," said he. "One you know yourself, slightly. Mr. Nash."

"Nash!" exclaimed the General in shock. "You surprize me. I would not expect him to be involved with the likes of Wickham. Seems a most gentlemanly sort of fellow."

"So he is, sir," Perry admitted. "But as you know, his acquaintance is large and varied. He has regular card parties at his house in --- Place. Sometimes it is merely a dinner party and whist afterwards for small sums but he does occasionally have men only parties, where I have heard the stakes can often be pretty high. Wickham was a regular attendant, I hear, and nearly always came away owing money, particularly to Nash, who I am told is an excellent player."

"I can believe that," the General said with feeling, leading Darcy to suspect he may have been a victim of the man at one of those 'whist parties' Perry had mentioned. "The fellow seems good at just about everything he tries his hand to. An excellent sportsman. First class shot, and a fine archer and swordsman. Rides very well too, even wins the odd point-to-point."

"Really? What do you know of his affairs?" Darcy asked.

"Hmm, that's more difficult," the General pondered. "He's not a very confiding man. Perry?"

Perry shook his head. "I do not know him as well as many of the other men, but he strikes me as one of those chaps that has many acquaintances and very few friends. I doubt there is anyone who knows much about him."

"How long has he been in the area?" inquired Darcy.

"For about four years, I believe. He has his house here in the city and another out past Ponteland."

"So he is a man of property and means?" Darcy asked.

"Yes, he certainly seems most comfortably situated," Perry continued, "and that, along with his good manners and looks, has led many a lady, often encouraged by a matchmaking mother, to try to ensnare him in matrimony, but he seems to rebuff their attentions with remarkable skill. And he has always managed to do it without causing undue embarrassment to himself or the lady. As the General said, he is not a confiding man and I believe he does not like his private affairs broadcast."

Darcy could understand that himself, having experienced similar unwanted attentions before his marriage, and nodded in appreciation that Nash was able to handle things with discretion without putting himself in danger. He concentrated on Perry's last comment.

"So, I assume given his reticence, and lack of any confidant, that discovering the exact state of his dealings with Wickham has been difficult?" he suggested.

Perry aquiesed with a nod.

"Then we may have to adopt a more direct approach than you have been able to use thus far," Darcy mused, "I may have to seek an introduction and take him into my confidence if that is the only way to discover how things stand. You have said he is discreet, so it may not be too great a risk, though I would prefer to avoid it, if it is possible. Did the other men who played with them give you any indication as to what amounts might be involved?"

"It would be based on some conjecture," Perry ventured, "since we do not know if Wickham has settled any of the debts he has accrued, but if I was to make a guess from what I have heard I would say anything between seven hundred and one thousand pounds."

"I see," Darcy replied flatly. He digested this news for some seconds in silence, with a stern countenance, while the General and Captain watched him in anticipation of some more expressive reaction. None came, however, for, seeing their eyes turned on him in expectation, he came out of his reverie and in a business like tone recommenced with, "Well, let us hear of the other individual you spoke of, Captain."

"Of course, sir," Perry said. "It is a Mr. Sutton."

"Sutton?" the General retorted, "Sutton? That name seems familiar. I wonder if it is the same man whom I met at Nash's once. A burly fellow of forty or so, but well turned out."

"He may well be sir," Perry confirmed, "they are acquainted, and Sutton is as you describe him. He is a regular at Nash's card parties and has also won from Wickham there."

"Yes, I remember now," said the General, "is he not an attorney or something in the law?"

"Nominally, yes," Perry allowed, "he has chambers in the town, though I am led to believe that he does not have any regular legal practice. He certainly does not rely on it for his income, if its extent is any guide."

"He has then some private income?" Darcy suggested.

"Perhaps," Perry replied, in a tone which expressed doubt, "but it is known in the town -- especially among the officers -- that he is willing to make loans available and that he does not demand too much security if the terms are advantageous. By which I mean advantageous to himself, of course."

"Oh-ho," the General exclaimed, his tone tinged with disgust, "so that's the way it is. The man is nothing more than a common moneylender!"

Perry acknowledged this and said, "To own the truth, I do not know the full extent of Mr. Sutton's activities, but moneylending is certainly among them."

"Do I take it that he is the man whom, you suspect, has been buying up Wickham's debts?" Darcy questioned.

"Yes," Perry said, "he has the connections with the men involved, the money to hand and I have heard he has used the same proceeding before with other men of the regiment who have fallen into the same kind of difficulty. I suspect that at first Wickham went to him for assistance and he, seeing a situation he could take advantage of, began to take over as many of his debts as he could. I have heard he likes to have his 'clients' under strict control."

Darcy raised his brows at this, "And having a knowledge of the law as he does, I suppose we can assume that he manages to keep on the right side of it while exerting the maximum amount of pressure on those clients if circumstances require it?" he suggested.

"Exactly," Perry concurred, "you may be sure that he will not do anything to put himself in danger of prosecution."

"Mmn, this is difficult," Darcy said, "do we have any indication of how far he has Wickham in his power?"

Perry shook his head, "No, even less than in the case of Mr. Nash. Though I would suspect, given the amounts that have been taken over from other people, the extent of his direct debts to Sutton from cards and the probability that Wickham has borrowed to settle other debts, or more likely to use as stake money, the amount is significant. Perhaps fifteen hundred pounds? Perhaps more."

This estimation of Wickham's position was met with silence that bespoke astonishment and shock from the General and anger and grim determination from Darcy. All three mused on their own thoughts for some time before the General spoke, after gaining the others' attention with a sigh.

"You know," said he, "we could discover much more if we could get a look at Wickham's papers and correspondence. With his wife on her own it ought to be possible, without putting her in an equivocal position. Indeed if he does not reappear soon, we will have no choice but to do thus much. Do you not think something might be attempted in that quarter?"

"Yes, I do," Darcy concurred with decision. He pondered for a moment, then a small smile crossed his face. "In fact," he continued with some amusement, "something of the kind is probably taking place as we speak. If I know Mrs. Darcy she is at this very moment finding answers to those questions that most preoccupy us."

Notwithstanding her husbands highly flattering, though perhaps somewhat less than impartial, view of her sagacity, Elizabeth was at that moment far from confident in her own ability to uncover any information that would lead to a prompt and successful resolution of the current situation. Indeed, she had spent fully ten minutes fighting the urge to cover her ears with her hands in an attempt to soften the endless tirade of chatter which emanated from her sister. Lydia, still being Lydia and in no way improved by any mature reflection which her new status and its anteceding events might engender, spoke only of herself and was probably unaware that she had omitted to even ask after Elizabeth's health or whether her journey had been comfortable. She had merely rattled on about her acquaintance, the officers of the regiment, her upcoming confinement (though that was still five months away), her new household &c. &c. These outpourings required the minimum of response from Elizabeth and she used the time to gather her thoughts slowly and, coming to her senses rather in the manner of someone who had been run down by a coach and four -- the effect of which Lydia's unstoppable chattering rather resembled -- she began to endeavour to exercise those qualities her husband had attributed to her.

That Lydia had been surprized to see her had been only too evident. Elizabeth had debated sending word beforehand that she was in Newcastle but, after consideration, had decided that the advantages of an unannounced appearance outweighed any slight abandonment of social convention. When she arrived she noticed the looks of curiosity and discomposure the manservant and maid had given her and she felt sympathy for them in the current situation, which must be as difficult for them as anyone.

She had been shown into the sitting room, where Lydia was reposed in an ungainly fashion on a couch, her feet propped up on a stool and a bored look on her face. Upon hearing Elizabeth announced and seeing her following the maid into the room she had been quite unable to keep the look of shock, combined with what Elizabeth felt might be a little dread, from her face but she had recovered quickly and exclaimed happily, "Lizzy!" before embracing her sister and then taking on the role of hostess. She ordered refreshment and when they were both settled comfortably had began the endless tirade Elizabeth had listened to since.

Though she might be experiencing some difficulty in entering the conversation, since Lydia did not pause sufficiently long enough between sentences to allow her an opening, Elizabeth could still observe and as a prelude to the moment when Lydia exhausted all subjects or expired from lack of breath, she did so discreetly. Lydia herself looked well, though perhaps a little tired, which was hardly surprizing given the events of the last few days. She had grown since their last meeting, though alas it was in bulk rather than height that she had increased; Elizabeth was convinced she had gained at least twenty pounds and the effects of her condition were still to manifest themselves.

Once she had begun to recover her wits, Elizabeth determined to put a stop to Lydia's babbling, though she reasoned to do so in a manner which did not cause any estrangement would be preferable. Since she was not likely to stop talking unless Elizabeth took drastic action, the latter was at first unsure how to achieve her goal. However, a few moments reflection, allied with the realization of the one subject -- and person -- Lydia had not mentioned thus far, gave her an idea. Though she had inwardly debated the wisdom of direct inquiries, she decided that she may be able to achieve two goals at once and asked, in a tone which betrayed no previous knowledge of the situation but allowed no dissembling, "And where is Wickham?"

Those four words had more than the effect she had hoped for. Lydia immediately coloured, replying with an unconvincing air of disinterestedness that he was out engaging in his military duties. The question appeared to rob her of her loquacity and she sat in uncomfortable silence. Elizabeth did not press her further on this falsehood, since Lydia was displaying some loyalty to her husband, and she felt she could learn what she wanted to without antagonizing her further. From that moment on she was able to take control of the conversation and began, with what at first were polite questions but soon became more searching inquiries, to attempt to find out what she had come to learn.

The conference between the gentlemen was coming to an end, as there seemed to be no further information available for discussion, and the General had some business of the regiment to deal with. He had just informed the other two of this when the sound of someone knocking urgently on the front door, followed by the voices of the butler and another gentleman were heard.

"I wonder..?" began the General, then resumed, "that sounds like Sir Thomas."

"Sir Thomas?" Darcy echoed.

"Yes, Sir Thomas Fletcher, the local magistrate I told you about last night."

As the General finished this explanation the door to the library opened and the butler entered, announcing the gentleman the General had identified.

"General," Sir Thomas came in briskly and bowed, then seeing the General was not alone he added, "forgive me if this is an inopportune time."

"Not at all, not at all," the General assured him, and proceeded to make the necessary introduction to Darcy.

"Mr. Darcy is concerned with that matter I spoke to you about yesterday and is, I am sure, as anxious as I am to hear if you have any news," the General added.

"Then I am glad that I arrived when you are all together," replied Sir Thomas suavely. "As to any news that I might have for you, I am not sure yet. But in order that we might better determine that I thought that you might wish to accompany me there."

"Accompany you there?" Darcy asked, "Where, may I ask?"

"Out towards Woolsington," Sir Thomas answered.

"But what has happened there?" asked the General in alarm.

"I have just received word," Sir Thomas replied drily, "that a man has been found there dead."

Part Seven

Posted on Thursday, 6 June 2002, at 6:41 a.m.

Had Sir Thomas been desirous of obtaining the maximum response from the minimum of information, then the effect of his disclosure would have gratified that gentleman beyond his wildest expectations. As it was, nothing was further from his intention and, being of an habitually phlegmatic character, he was surprized at the reaction his statement elicited. The General looked at him in alarm, his face betraying the countenance of a man who had just received bad news and now only waited for confirmation that all his worst fears are justified. Captain Perry, after involuntarily uttering a most ungentlemanly oath, pursed his lips and shook his head in disbelief. Darcy merely looked stunned and remained thus for several seconds. There was an astonished silence in the room for some moments, until Darcy recovered his senses sufficiently to request more information, though he managed no more than the preliminary clearing of his throat before he was forestalled by the General.

"Good god man!" he exclaimed, "you certainly know how to break up a party! But you must have more details than that a man has died, else why the manner of your coming here?"

Sir Thomas inclined his head in acknowledgement at the first half of this statement and explained succinctly in response to the second, "The man has been stabbed, according to the information contained in the note which summoned me."

Despite the attitude of a man who was steeling himself for the worst possible news, the General was incredulous. "Murdered?!" he cried in astonishment.

Darcy, this revelation coming on top of all the others of an unpleasant nature he had received since arriving, sank into a nearby armchair with a groan. First there had been the discovery that Wickham had disappeared, then the extent of his debts had been revealed and now they were hearing of the very real possibility that he had.... Darcy shook his head in an attempt to regain his wits.

"Is there any clue," asked he hesitatingly, "to the man's identity?"

"No," answered Sir Thomas slowly, "except that he appears to be dressed like a gentleman. Also, the place where he was found, which is a quiet area away from the, er, less celubrious quarters under my jurisdiction, would seem to discount the usual circumstances. You must be aware, Mr. Darcy, that this kind of crime is rare enough, thank God, and usually the result of overindulgence in drink or domestic strife. This, apparently involving a gentleman and not in one of the areas I might expect it, seemed unusual enough for me to consider the coincidence of the General's request to me. I could not but help wondering if there was a connection. Since here is on the way, I decided to inform you to see if you wanted to come along. If it is in any way connected with your enquiries it would be better you were there to see all. If not, then you can be back in an hour and no harm will be done."

Darcy, who had by now recovered slightly from the initial shock, rose with decision and said, "I will accompany you, Sir Thomas. Unfortunately, my carriage is not available as my wife went out in it earlier but..."

"My carriage is outside, Mr. Darcy, and there is room for us all," Sir Thomas interrupted.

"Thank you."

"I cannot go, I really must see to my other business; indeed I am already late," said the General, "but Perry, I would like you to go with Sir Thomas and Darcy, with you permission, Sir Thomas?"

Sir Thomas nodded his acceptance of this request and Perry intimated his willingness by replying, "Of course, sir." He was gratified at being a member of the party. He had found the investigations he had undertaken so far intriguing and now it appeared as though events could be about to take an even more serious turn than they had supposed. If the dead man should turn out to be Wickham, then the possibilities were numerous and confusing. His discoveries so far might become important in light of what could be awaiting them.

Darcy, who seemed suddenly bursting with energy, exclaimed, "The let us be off immediately."

After collecting their overcoats and other accessories, Darcy and Perry joined Sir Thomas in his carriage and within seconds they were travelling rapidly to their destination. The first few minutes were spent in complete silence, except for the street noise which permeated from without, each man lost in his own contemplations. Darcy tapped his fingers nervously on the frame of the window as they flew along the streets. However fast they were travelling -- and Sir Thomas' coachman was certainly no slouch -- he grew more and more impatient, cursing every barrow boy or tradesman's cart that slowed their progress, though his imprecations were voiced internally and not aloud. Since the possibility that Sir Thomas' information suggested had first imbedded itself in his brain he was consumed with the need to know. Could it be true? Were all his dealings with that man, which had blighted his life for so many years, at an end forever? Had he finally succumbed to the inevitable consequence of his own progressively more extreme actions?

He exhaled the breath he had been unknowingly holding noisily as his meditations drifted from the question of the possibility that in a very few minutes he might be looking on the dead body of his childhood friend, to the consequences should it be true. He thought for the first time about Mrs. Wickham and her unborn child, and felt some guilt as he realized that part of him did not want the suspicion which had originated the moment Sir Thomas had made his disclosure to be unfounded. He could not approve of Lydia's behaviour, though he always tempered his disapproval of her when he considered Georgiana had almost suffered the same fate, but she had seemed genuinely attached to Wickham and now might find herself widow to a murdered man at sixteen, with a child to care for -- should the shock not cause her to miscarry.

He stared out of the window in silence and contemplation. What was the truth -- that this was merely a wild goose chase that was completely unconnected with their investigations, or that Wickham had been slain?

At the moment he could not decide which he would prefer.

Elizabeth may have succeeded in cutting short Lydia's jeremiad on those subjects she felt most comfortable being able to hold a discourse on, but unfortunately their sudden cessation did not make her task any easier. She began with a few tentative enquiries on the Wickhams' domestic situation, asking whether their servants had been with them since they arrived in Newcastle, but every question, though answered briefly without any sign of concealment, only gave Lydia the opportunity to ply her with similar enquiries on her own situation. She answered these with a similar brevity to her sister, but when they began to get rather impertinent she found she had to bite her tongue to avoid scolding her. Questions like 'How many servants do you have at Pemberley?', 'How many horses and carriages?', 'How many rooms does your London house have?' &c. were met with polite replies, but when Lydia ventured on to 'I expect you can spend what you like on clothes, how much do you get for your own expenses?', 'I'll wager you have some lovely jewels?' and -- this last accompanied with a conspiratorial leer -- 'Well I suppose it is all compensation for putting up with that cold fish Mr. Darcy, I expect you manage to avoid him as much as possible?' she was probably completely unaware how near she was to receiving the first box on the ear from Elizabeth in well over ten years.

Elizabeth sat there quietly seething for some time before finally replying with apparent calm to the last enquiry with, "No, we spend as much time as possible together. And what of you and Wickham, do you see as much of one another as you would like?"

That had the desired effect and Lydia abruptly changed the subject, to tell her about the local shops and warehouses and how hard it was to find a really good dressmaker as her funds were limited (with a pointed look which Elizabeth uncharacteristically seemed to miss). Elizabeth sympathized and, in the hope of extracting a little useful information, asked her about her dealings with the local tradesman. Lydia acknowledged somewhat reluctantly that they were decent enough, though rather inflexible about when they received payment (with another pointed look). Elizabeth sighed inwardly as she realized that Lydia was informing her in a not particularly subtle way -- though little better could be expected from Lydia -- that the price of discovering the true nature of the Wickhams' domestic imbroglio's was going to be her guarantee to help settle any household debts they might have accumulated. She considered the question as practically as she was able to; an exercise which was initially not particularly successful since Lydia's previous remarks had almost persuaded her to convince Darcy that they should return to Derbyshire immediately and allow the Wickhams to suffer the fate they deserved. A few moments reflection on how that course of action would affect her family, however, enabled her to regain some sense of perspective. Compared to Wickham's debts of honour the amount involved was likely to be small and she could not allow Lydia to find herself in the situation where she was having to ward off the bailiffs.

She therefore stated in a tone in which encouragement was alloyed with sympathy, "I am sure when you have been here longer they will see you are to be trusted. I realise it must be difficult for you to run the household without any previous experience, Lydia. If you need any help with the accounts I am more than happy to oblige and if you have any immediate difficulties I am sure they can be dealt with."

This was all Lydia had been hoping for, though she might perhaps have missed the circumspect manner in which Elizabeth had worded the last sentence, which committed her to nothing. She got up and embraced Elizabeth with genuine warmth and said, "Thank you Lizzy, you don't know what a relief it will be to me if you would help. You know I have never been good with figures and it makes my head ache just to think about them sometimes."

"Yes, you never were a good scholar, were you?" Elizabeth teased.

"Well, I never saw the point of learning mathematics," Lydia countered with a toss of her head.

Elizabeth laughed and persisted, "Well, perhaps you are reconsidering your opinion now you find that it might come in useful?"

"Definitely not!" stated Lydia firmly, and laughed.

She seemed to brighten considerably after this exchange and a return of her usual energetic manner was visible. After considering for a moment, she said, "Lizzy, I should like to go out, I have been stuck in here too long. Would you like to come with me?"

Elizabeth, fearing that her promise of a few moments before had encouraged Lydia to contemplate a determined raid on the local shops, which was Lydia's usual form of entertainment, replied guardedly, "Where would you like to go?" then added with more enthusiasm, "shall we go for a walk? Is there a park nearby?"

This suggestion did not sit well with Lydia, who was determined not to miss this god-given opportunity to ride -- and more significantly to be seen -- in the Darcy carriage. She passed her new acquaintance over in her head, wondering who she would most like to see her arriving in such style. After a few seconds, a smile crossed her lips.

"I would like to visit my friend Miss Fitton," she said. "Would you like to come and meet her? I'm sure you will like her and her sister."

As she was anxious to meet any of Lydia's new acquaintances, in the hope that they might be able to shed some light on events and also in the hope they were more sensible and perceptive than her sister, Elizabeth agreed with alacrity. "Yes, I will be glad to make their acquaintance. You mentioned them in your last letter, I believe."

Lydia admitted she had, and rang for the maid so she could prepare to depart. Elizabeth, sensing by her manner the true nature of the reason for the call, since she remembered being told by Captain Perry the previous night that Lydia had visited the sisters two days before and they had not returned the curtesy in the meantime, could not resist asking mischievously, "Is it close enough to walk, Lydia?"

Lydia replied with slightly more happiness than she was trying to convey that it was not really, and she had to be careful in her condition.

"Very well, we shall take the carriage," Elizabeth offered, rolling her eyes and smiling tolerantly.

The silence between the gentlemen in Sir Thomas' carriage, which had been palpable since their departure from the General's house, was eventually broken by Perry, requesting any further particulars Sir Thomas might be able to share with the others. The magistrate brought a note forth from the pocket of his greatcoat and scanned it, remarking, "The discovery was made this morning in a field which is adjacent to the churchyard of St. Stephen's at Woolsington, some three or four miles away. The sexton was the man who sent the note which informed me of the particulars, so I assume it was he who found the body. I despatched a constable immediately. The constables under my charge are under strict instruction not to disturb anything until myself and the doctor arrive in such cases, and Hood, the constable, is a reliable man."

Perry nodded. "And the doctor, Sir?"

"I sent my man to summon him. Doctor Tredgold is an experienced man who practises in the Quayside district. No doubt there is a local man whom we could consult if we wished, but I have relied on Tredgold before in such matters and prefer to have someone whose knowledge and discretion I am confident I can trust."

"Very wise, I am sure," Perry concurred.

Darcy, who had recovered from his introspection as this colloquy began, now asked, "Since the sexton did not recognise the man, we can assume that he is not a local to the area?"

"Yes, I would imagine so," Sir Thomas confirmed.

"Then, forgive me," Darcy began uncertainly, "I do not know the geography of this area. Can you suggest any reason a stranger might go there? Is it, for instance, a place frequented by trippers?"

The others seemed struck by this question. A look of confusion crossed the magistrates face. "Now you mention it, it is not the sort of place to attract the casual visitor," he said slowly, "it is merely a small village with one inn and few houses. And it is not on the road to anywhere significant." He lapsed into silence and his face betrayed he was ruminating the possible explanation.

Perry leaned forward and remarked to Darcy in a low tone, "I can tell you this, sir. It is on the road to Ponteland, if one wants to go quietly and avoid witnesses."

Darcy's eyebrows shot up and the light in his eyes confirmed he had understood the Captain's meaning.

"Ahh, yes," he almost whispered in a dry tone, "where Mr. Nash has a property."

While she waited for Lydia to complete her preparations for the journey, Elizabeth requested that Farrow be sent for, with the stated intention of informing him of their plans so he could arrange the carriage. The actual reason was to enquire from him if their departure would disrupt his investigations among the domestic staff, who had been asked to provide him with some refreshment in the kitchen, and how these were progressing. Farrow, who had already become a favourite with the women, Clara the maid and Mrs. Morris -- who combined the roles of housekeeper and cook -- with his polite and easy manners, replied that he was quite at liberty to accompany Mrs. Darcy and her sister. Indeed, he would have done so whatever the state of his own enquiries -- which were progressing slowly but surely -- in deference to Darcy's request that he look after his wife. He told Elizabeth that he would have the carriage readied immediately and took his leave of the others, with a request that if any message came for him or Mrs. Darcy while they were gone it would be delivered without delay to their destination.

Having done this much, he went outside to have a confidential interview with the man the Colonel had ordered to watch the house, whom he had observed on their arrival. Having approached him discreetly, he revealed who the carriage belonged to and their connection to the Wickhams. He further explained that Mrs. Wickham's sister was to accompany her to visit some friends and the man thanked him for the information, since if he had seen them departing in the carriage he may have been tempted to try and follow, in the suspicion the visitors might be taking Mrs. Wickham to her husband. He informed Farrow he would remain at his post to watch in case Wickham appeared, until relieved at midday.

Farrow thanked him and returned to have a few words with the coachman, narrating the directions to their destination, which he had obtained from Clara. By the time these explanations were complete, the ladies emerged from the house; Mrs. Wickham with much ceremony and furtive glances up and down the street to see if their departure was being observed by her neighbours. Farrow handed her into the carriage with an exaggerated display of deference and decorum, which caused Elizabeth to suppress a smirk, sure as she was that it was for Lydia's benefit. As she followed, she caught Farrow's eye with a look of combined amusement and gentle reproach and he responded with a smile and a look which told her he understood her warning. Lydia might be foolish but she was the mistresses sister and should not be an object of ridicule. He closed the carriage door and gave another slight bow of studied formality before getting up to join the coachman.

Lydia settled herself comfortably in the seat, attempting to occupy as much space as possible. She had never been in so luxurious a conveyance before, and spent the first five minutes, when she wasn't leaning out the window in an attempt to see and be seen, in praising its qualities in an excited voice to Elizabeth, who sat opposite her composedly. Elizabeth, who despite her younger sister's insinuations earlier, had not married Darcy so she could travel in a comfortable coach or wear expensive jewellery, was still well aware of the fortunate advantages of her new situation. However, to hear Lydia's effusions, which were all too familiar as they were an almost perfect recital of Mrs. Bennet's from the time when she first heard of Elizabeth's engagement, was not likely to improve her equanimity. She contained her rising displeasure at the direction of the conversation by reflecting on the irony that Lydia could believe she and Wickham had married for love and Elizabeth had married Darcy for more material considerations. Considering the truth of the matter, especially as it related to the Wickhams -- for Lydia could be forgiven for her ignorance as far as she and Darcy were concerned given Elizabeth's opinion of him when they had first met -- she felt she could almost find some amusement in Lydia's opinions, did they not show again her complete lack of sense and blindness to the truth about her husband's real character. Indeed, she reflected, as far as Lydia was concerned, she did appear to be in love with Wickham, or as in love as she was capable, and did they not say love is blind? Would Lydia's attachment survive the current crisis, should the whole story be revealed to her, she wondered? Elizabeth suppressed the temptation once again to tell Lydia some painful truths about Wickham and his dealings with the Darcy family or to correct Lydia's assumptions about her relationship with Darcy. A short carriage ride was not the time or place and she had still not discovered anything relevant to their enquiries. She therefore steered the discussion in another direction by expressing a wish to know a little more about the Fitton family before they arrived.

Lydia, totally ignorant of the impertinent manner of her discourse and altogether too self-absorbed to realize their effect on Elizabeth, or the others obvious alteration of the subject, was more than happy to oblige her sister with as much detail as she could about her 'dear friends'. Since she had always been a determined gossip, Elizabeth listened in interest but with a silent warning to herself to verify anything Lydia told her before accepting it as truth.

"The Fittons live in -- Street, which is quite a nice area, though close to the centres of trade in the town," Lydia was saying, "there are three of them, Mr. Fitton and his two daughters, though I have not seen much of him as he is not very well they tell me."

"I am sorry to hear that," said Elizabeth sympathetically, "and what of Mrs. Fitton?"

"Oh, she died ten years ago or more."

"I see. So he has been compelled to raise them on his own since then."

"Yes, and run his business, which is similar to our Uncle Gardiner's, from what I am told," Lydia informed her. "Amy tells me that their aunt used to look after them quite often, but she died two years ago and there has been just the three of them since, except for an uncle they never see."

"They seem to have suffered quite a lot of misfortune, to lose their mother and aunt and to have a sick father to look after."

"Yes, and Wickham tells me his business has suffered in the last year or two, no doubt because his illness has prevented him attending to it properly."

"Oh, Mr. Wickham knows the family?" Elizabeth asked as nonchalantly as possible.

"Yes, of course," answered Lydia, as though the question were superfluous. "He has even offered to help Mr. Fitton when he is unable to tend to his business himself, but Amy told me her father was most thankful, but did not like to take advantage of Wickham's generosity."

Elizabeth almost snorted at this, but checked herself in time. Wickham helping anyone without an ulterior motive was unbelievable, but at least the Fittons seemed to have seen through his facade of concern and helpfulness. "Most considerate of him," she murmured, without entirely avoiding some sarcasm in her tone, which however Lydia completely missed.

"And what of the daughters?" she enquired. "Miss Amy, was it, and...?"

"Bella," Lydia supplied. "Well, Amy is one and twenty and Bella is nineteen. They are both very pretty and the officers of the regiment and local gentlemen think very highly of them."

"Really?" Elizabeth said, wondering if the sisters might be the primary reason for Wickham's interest in the family. "I suppose their situation, with a sick father whose business is going through troubles and no other relatives who can help, makes it difficult for any man to consider a serious attachment to them?" she probed.

"You would think so," said Lydia in delight, "but wait 'til you hear the rest. Not all know this, but as a friend I am in on the secret. It's true that their father can give them nothing, indeed I believe everything will go to his brother, the uncle they never see. But remember the aunt I mentioned?"

"The one who died two years ago?"

"Yes," Lydia confirmed, almost jumping up and down in excitement, "well, she has left them a dowry each."

"Well, that will be a help to them," said Elizabeth calmly. "Hopefully it will be enough to allow them to marry who they like if the opportunity should arise."

"Enough!" Lydia exclaimed, annoyed by Elizabeth's placid response to what she considered to be first-rate gossip, "It is no less than twenty thousand pounds each!"

"Twenty thousand pounds," Elizabeth repeated numbly. She was surprized. That was the sort of sum that brought out the worst in people. She again considered Wickham's interest in the Fittons in the light of this revelation. If he had been unmarried she would have found no difficulty in imputing a motive to his attentions. But Wickham was married and so that idea seemed to be mistaken. Perhaps it was seduction rather than monetary gain which had been his object -- at least as far as the sisters were concerned?

"I can understand their wish to keep such information quiet, Lydia," said she thoughtfully. "Two pretty young women with such dowries would be the object of much attention, whether they desired it or not."

Lydia, who had one final piece of information, but was determined to get as much gratification out of its recounting as possible, merely agreed with an attempt at nonchalance, "Yes, though I fear Amy does not take advantage of it as she could, despite my advice."

Elizabeth ignored the temptation to pursue how any woman of one and twenty with sense would feel to be advised by Lydia and, aware that her sister's manner betrayed that she had more to tell, decided to keep to the point. She was determined not to gratify Lydia's vanity, as she was sure Lydia desired, by showing any approbation for her penchant for idle gossip, even if in this case it might prove valuable later. She merely asked calmly, "Oh, how?"

Despite her disappointment that her ruse had failed, Lydia could not refrain from replying, "She is engaged! It was arranged about a month ago."

Puzzled initially by this reply, which seemed to show Miss Fitton taking excellent 'advantage' of her situation, Elizabeth soon discerned that it was the object of Miss Fitton's affections rather than the subject of them that met with Lydia's disapproval. "To whom?"

"To Mr. Sutton," Lydia affirmed, with a dismissive shake of the head.

"And who is Mr. Sutton? And why do you not approve?"

"Oh, he's a lawyer or some such thing," answered Lydia with an indifferent shrug. "I'm sure he is wealthy, anyway, he always seems well turned out. But he is five and forty if he's a day! Though I suppose he is not overly ugly. And she could have her pick of any men hereabouts! If she had informed everyone about her dowry then more may have shown an interest, I told her. Now she is to marry Mr. Sutton, who is no fun at all. No doubt you can understand her reasons, I cannot."

Elizabeth controlled the anger she felt at the last sentence of this statement and, after taking a few seconds pause to regain her composure, asked simply, "Perhaps she loves him?"

Lydia snorted. "Well, I have never seen any evidence of it, I am sure. She never showed the least interest in him before, from what I could see. In fact, I thought her interest lay in quite another quarter."

"People's opinions can change, Lydia," said Elizabeth with some feeling.

"Well, I do not understand it," Lydia replied with emphasis. "Why, when I think of all the officers she could have her choice of! There's Captain Hammond, he's very handsome, and I'm sure would be more than willing to marry her and her twenty thousand pounds. Or Lieutenant Price, he is the best swordsman in the regiment, they say. I am sure...." She continued in this vein for the remainder of the journey, quite oblivious to Elizabeth's quiet and introspective demeanour as she ruminated on what she had heard.

Sir Thomas' carriage passed swiftly through the small village of Woolsington and came to a halt in the lane adjacent to the church of St. Stephen. All three gentlemen dismounted quickly and Darcy took the opportunity to look up and down the lane in order to familiarise himself with the surrounding area. In the direction from which they had just come he could see the tops of three or four houses and, closest of all, approximately a furlong distant, an ancient inn -- the sign of which proclaimed it to be the "Black Bull". In the other direction the way wound to the left -- presumably towards Ponteland -- through densely situated trees, each side of the lane bordered with thick hedges. In front of them rose the wall which surrounded the churchyard, its height a uniform five feet or so and topped by spikes; except where it was interrupted by the gate which gave access, at which the constable appeared within moments of their arrival.

"Ahh, Hood," Sir Thomas greeted him, "there you are. All is well I trust?"

"Yes sir," Hood replied promptly, "I have the sexton waiting to see you in the vestry when you are ready. Fortunately, he had told only the minister of the discovery and that gentleman seems to have acted in a sensible manner. He instructed the sexton to send a note summoning us and not tell anyone else until we arrived, so the news has not spread and I have not had to keep a crowd at bay."

"Good, then we can proceed without distraction and interference," Sir Thomas said, gratified. He proceeded to introduce the others to the constable, who accepted their presence without any sign of surprize or displeasure. Indeed, he struck Darcy as a man who was rarely discomposed, his phlegmatic and businesslike manner closely matching Sir Thomas' own. He felt he could understand Sir Thomas' confidence in the man, as expressed on their journey, he seemed a cut above the usual type that became beadle or constable, positions which often attracted persons of mean understanding.

"No sign of Tredgold?" Sir Thomas was asking.

"No, sir, not yet."

"No doubt he will be quite soon behind us. Shall we go through and have a look?"

The constable led the way into the churchyard and they all filed through the gate and took a look at their surroundings. The path on which they stood led to the church door, while on either side gravestones and monuments occupied much of the available space. To their right and left the wall which faced the lane turned at right angles and ran to join another which emerged from behind the church, thus creating an area roughly square in shape in which the church was situated in the upper section. About halfway towards the church door a path ran off to the left to the wall on that side and terminated in another gate, identical to the one through which they had entered. Towards this gate, which was closed, they were led by the constable and had got within a few yards of it when Darcy, who by virtue of his eagerness to solve the question which had plagued him since they had first heard Sir Thomas' information and his long stride was the closest to him, halted their progress with a commanding, "Just a moment, constable."

The constable and the others stopped in their tracks and regarded Darcy with unfeigned interest. He was scanning the path in front of them, and passing the constable he approached nearer to the gate until he stood about ten feet from it. He again looked closely at the ground, then turned his attention to look through the gate to the area beyond, approaching it a little way after carefully stepping off the path to one side. The gate was solid except for a section near the top which contained a square aperture some three foot by two, across which some vertical posts ran in turned wood. He could see the body of a man lying face down some thirty yards away, in the middle of the space, and from his vantage point could clearly see the glint of the knife which protruded from its back. He spent a few moments letting his eyes travel all around the space, then turned around and addressed the others in a firm voice.

"Before we proceed, gentlemen, I believe it would be of material assistance to us if we interview the sexton."

The others, who had been watching his progress with a mixture of surprize and curiosity, were struck by his tone, which brooked no disagreement, had it not been an entirely reasonable suggestion. The constable confirmed the assessment of his character by merely nodding in acquiescence at this plan. Perry, who had witnessed Darcy's suppressed excitement and apparent eagerness before to discover the identity of the man lying on the other side of the gate, immediately suspected he had overlooked something Darcy had not, and waited in silence to see if they were to be acquainted with its nature. Sir Thomas seemed to reflect for a moment before replying with a courteous, "Of course, if you wish it. The doctor has not yet arrived and it is best we do not disturb things before he has had an opportunity to make his examinations," he turned to the constable and added, "Hood, perhaps you could fetch him here, unless Mr. Darcy would prefer to interview him inside?"

Darcy intimated that he would prefer the sexton to be shown to where they were and Hood went with alacrity to fetch him thither, his calm demeanour masking the curiosity he felt at the events of the last few minutes. As he retreated, Darcy scanned the area on the other side of the gate and the pathway again, before turning to Perry and, after looking skywards for a moment, saying to him, "Tell me, has the weather been fair the last two days?"

"Err, well," replied Perry, intrigued by this sudden lapse into small talk, although the inquiry had not been made in a tone which suggested Darcy was merely attempting polite conversation.

"The reason I ask," Darcy persisted, "is that when we departed Derbyshire two days ago, the weather was fine. During that afternoon, it deteriorated and came on to rain by the evening, the rain continuing steadily until the early hours of the morning. It appeared to me that the clouds came from the north, so I wondered if can tell me if it rained here that day, or yesterday, and at what times?"

The Captain, who had followed this at first in some perplexity, now began to see a glimmer of light in the darkness when he considered Darcy's interest in the path and now his enquiry. He smiled and answered, "Yes, I understand. You are correct, it did rain here the day before yesterday. I believe it began at about midday and continued intermittently until very early yesterday morning. I was out early myself and it had stopped recently, shall we say dawn or just after?"

"Thank you. And it has not rained since?"

"No."

"I see." Darcy turned away and gazed around again, his eyes distant. Perry began to surreptitiously examine the path himself, without encroaching any further, while Sir Thomas, who had not understood the previous exchange, but was reluctant to own this to the others by further enquiry, merely shrugged his shoulders and awaited the return of the constable in the hope things would begin progressing a little more rapidly.

Within moments, Hood could be seen coming back up the path in company of another, who trailed in his wake as the constable advanced with quick, long strides. He reached the other three some little distance in front and had to wait a moment for the sexton to arrive, before introducing him to them as Mr. Reeve. The sexton's lack of athletic ability was explained when he was revealed to be a small man of fifty or thereabouts, his slightly crooked back and rough hands evidence of his grave-digging duties. His eyes, however, were intelligent and he greeted them with polite deference and enquired how he might be of service.

Sir Thomas led the way with a request he recount how he came to discover the body, to which he agreed with a nod.

"I came out this morning, oh, about nine of the clock, and began to do my work, weeding and such. When I'd been going about an hour, I came over this way, to 'ave a look for a place to put Mrs. Timms, what died two days ago. There's more space left for new graves on this side, see? I should really 'ave started yesterday, but the ground were too wet to dig and firm up the sides, what with the rain, so I left it 'til today, as she isn't being buried 'til three days hence..."

"And what happened next?" asked Sir Thomas in an attempt to keep him to the point.

"As I came up to the end of the path, something caught my eye through the gate. When I got close and seen him, I knew he were dead. I've seen a few in my time, I can tell you, and 'im with that thing sticking out of his back, I knew if were a hanging matter, so I went to see Vicar, and he told me to send word."

"Well, we may want to speak to him later. I don't think there's anything else, unless... Mr. Darcy, have you anything to ask?"

Darcy, who had been quite pleased to let Sir Thomas have his head in the questioning, and quite amused that he had not asked any pertinent questions, nodded and asked without ceremony, "Was the gate locked?"

"Yes, sir," replied the sexton directly, "it usually is."

"How many keys are there?"

"Two. I 'ave one and Vicar 'as one. I gave mine to the constable when 'e arrived."

Darcy nodded. "And when were you last here -- before this morning?"

"Yesterday, sir. I was 'ere all afternoon working, along of my son, Edward."

"And the body was not there then?"

Reeve looked rather startled by the question. "No, sir. We would 'ave seen it."

"Are you sure?" Darcy asked in surprize, "Forgive me, but it would not be easy to observe unless one drew near to the gate. Did you go near it yesterday?"

"No, sir, but we was cutting back that elm tree in the corner," the sexton explained. "I was a good twelve feet up the tree and saw clear into the field."

"I see," said Darcy. "What time did you leave?"

"About an hour before sunset, sir."

"And you were up the tree until then?"

"Yes."

"And the body was not there, and the gate was locked?"

"That's right, sir," the sexton confirmed.

"And since the constable has not been through the gate," Darcy said ruminatively, causing the other three to look at him in surprize, "I take it that you went through this morning when you saw the body?"

"Yes, sir," Reeve admitted, without any trace of discomposure. "I went through to be sure he were dead, and to see if I could recognise who it was. But I could not, sir."

"Can you describe your actions, exactly?"

"I went straight over to 'im, and touched 'is hand. He were cold and stiff. And I didn't recognise 'is face, so I came straight back and went to Vicar."

"Unlocking and re-locking the gate as you went?"

"That's right, sir."

"Thank you." Darcy pondered for a few seconds, during which Sir Thomas and Perry only succeeded in restraining the questions they were longing to ask by observing his concentrated manner. He turned back to Reeve with, "From here it would appear that this is the only means of access into the field. This wall is joined without gap by stout hedges along the lane, and they encircle the field, except for a part I cannot see because of those trees," he indicated the side furthest from the lane. "Is there any other way into the field over that way?"

"Yes, sir, if you're not too particular. That wall behind the church runs on for another fifty foot or so, where it joins the 'edge behind the trees. There's a part of that wall that is fallen -- by the tree roots going under it, I expect. You can get in that way if you don't mind getting your boots a little muddy."

"Thank you, that is most helpful." Darcy indicated he was finished with his enquiries, and the sexton was prevailed upon, after Sir Thomas had thanked him somewhat distractedly, to wait in the lane for the doctor, in order to show him the way when he arrived.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Sir Thomas turned to Darcy and asked, "How did you know that Hood here had not been through the gate and the sexton had?"

Darcy laughed. "Well, it is obvious by observing the path that someone has been through recently. It is clear there is one line of footprints in each direction. Since Perry says that it rained intermittently for nearly eighteen hours until early yesterday morning, it follows that the person went through since then. As to their identity, I could answer that you told us the constable had been instructed not to touch anything, and that he had fulfilled your trust in him. Actually, if you look carefully, you will see the person who came through had a short stride and was slightly unsteady on his feet, which is quite unlike the constable's step. Also, the boots which he wore are a good two sizes smaller than Hood's. I saw his on the pathway when he was leading us towards the gate and they are much larger than the ones which go through."

Sir Thomas and Perry scanned the path to verify these statements. Perry, who had some previous suspicion of what Darcy was trying to clarify, stood up first and asked him quietly, "Why did you insist on seeing the sexton first? You could have confirmed this all after taking a look on the other side of the gate."

"And if he had denied going through?" Darcy countered with his brow raised in query. "I wanted to be sure that those footprints were accounted for before we went through and disturbed anything. If they belonged to the corpse or his attacker we would need to investigate them thoroughly. Now we can enter in the knowledge that we shall not have missed anything."

Sir Thomas had joined them as he finished this response, and congratulated Darcy on his thoroughness, though adding that it did not get them any further.

"I cannot agree, Sir Thomas," Darcy said decidedly. "True it is evidence of a negative kind, but I would merely ask you remember that one -- and only one -- person has been through that gate since yesterday morning."

"You mean, the victim did not come this way?"

"Exactly," Darcy concurred, adding with emphasis, "and neither did the murderer."

"No," Sir Thomas mused. "Let us hope we can find some traces at that other place the sexton mentioned. Shall we go through now?"

The other two expressed their readiness to comply with this suggestion, and Sir Thomas asked Hood to unlock the gate, which he did after taking a large key from his pocket. He stood aside to let them pass and, as they all filed through, Darcy remarked to Perry, "One fortunate consequence of there being only one pair of footprints is that Sir Thomas is saved the task of investigating the likelihood of one of the keys being abstracted, or even copied, as he would have been compelled to do had there been signs several of people passing through the gate. I thought I would ask about the key, though, in case the sexton denied he had left the footmarks."

Perry nodded in understanding. His opinion of Darcy had risen significantly in the last half hour, and he had been reminded by Darcy's interrogation of the sexton of his own similar experience at the hands of Mrs. Darcy the evening before, though the sexton had answered at all times without any sign of discomfort, unlike himself. He again contemplated, with a little amusement, what a well matched pair they were.

By now they were nearing the form sprawled on the ground in the centre of the space, and he watched Darcy for any sign of a return of the uneasiness he had exhibited during the carriage ride. That gentleman, who had seen enough from the gate to answer the question that had been plaguing him during that journey, approached without any outward sign of awkwardness, however.

The man was lying on his front, his face turned away from the direction they approached, and they filed round to the far side to get a closer look, Sir Thomas first, followed by Darcy and Perry. There was silence for a few seconds as they contemplated the sad sight in front of them, then Darcy said quietly, "Well, it is not Wickham."

He had suspected as much from the form of the man as he had observed him through the gate, but to see his conjecture confirmed on closer inspection, thus putting an end to his dreaded suspicions, was gratifying. He realized as he spoke that he was relieved Wickham was not dead, that however much he detested him, he would not have wanted that. "It is not as bad as we feared," he said in relief.

"It may be worse than we feared," came a shocked voice from behind him.

He and Sir Thomas both turned sharply, to see Perry looking on with an expression of horror on his face.

"What do you mean?" They asked in unison, both equally unable to see what could be worse than discovering their quarry dead.

"It is Alfred Sutton," Perry replied numbly.

Continued in the next section