Beginning, Section II, Next Section
Chapter 11
Elizabeth watched in astonishment as a look of fear came into her father's face, simultaneously the colour was draining out.
"What is it papa?"
"I've seen it before. Where did you get it from?" Mr. Bennet had sat down rather quickly, but he never ceased turning the ring around in his fingers. Elizabeth hesitated momentarily and glanced at Darcy.
"We were sent it." Elizabeth blinked as Darcy suddenly pulled the ruby ring out of his pocket and handing it over.
"Might you have seen this one as well?" Elizabeth noted with surprise that he was wearing his father's sapphire ring.
"Yes. The Pimpernel's ring." Mr. Bennet did not touch the ring, but he looked at it curiously, there was no fear in his face this time.
"Who was the Pimpernel?"
"I couldn't say. He was called 'chief' by most and Percy by a select few. But I never saw him out of disguise. I think he was large though. His size seemed a running joke between his most trusted lieutenants." Mr. Bennet shook his head, trying to clear away the memories, as Darcy returned the ring to his pocket. Mr. Bennet subconsciously put his ring on, but he almost immediately pulled it off again, and handed it over to Elizabeth. "Give it to Lydia." Elizabeth looked stunned. "I've known what she's been doing for a while. She will keep it safe."
"Why did you let her go to Brighton?"
"Because she had orders to go, I could not stand in the way." Elizabeth looked stunned. "Take a seat, it appears I had better come clean before this becomes a serious mess. I received an express from Grant last night."
"But he said know one in this house knew."
"He was committing a minor lie there. But at the time it was for the best." Elizabeth and Darcy sat down, as Mr. Bennet stood up and started to pace the room. He had just started when Elizabeth saw Lydia slide silently into the room and sit in the corner. "I was the first and only child of Jules, Marquis de la Chatelet, and his wife Leonie de Maynard. Of my mother there is little to say, she died soon after my birth, and my father never married again. A lot can be said however on the subject of my father. But that must wait. My life up until the French Revolution was typical for my social group. I was educated in England, Harrow and Oxford, but that is a side issue, and not of much importance. However, while at school, I met and became friends with Andrew Ffoulkes, he later introduced me to the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel. Mr. Christian Bennet was the man whom I spent my holiday's with, except for one of my summer breaks, during which I returned to France, that was during my last year at Oxford. Mr. Bennet was an Indian Merchant. Normally my father would have disapproved of my staying with such a man, but he had money. And in our society money was one of the strongest forces. Mr. Bennet was actually a relation, fairly distant though, something like my aunt's husband's, brother's, wife's, uncle. Or something like that, anyway, he was consider just acceptable because he had money, and we did not. The former French aristocracy was formerly famous for two things. The first was arrogance, and the second was the total lack of feeling or attention for those below us. The things our family did to stay solvent were underhand to say the least." Mr. Bennet fell silent and continued his pacing. Elizabeth took advantage of the silence to turn to Lydia.
"Where is mama?" Lydia grimaced.
"Our aunt Phillips arrived, and I developed a headache." Elizabeth chuckled sympathetically, but fell silent as Mr. Bennet continued.
"Before I go further, I think I had better explain further about the de la Chatelet family. To be quite blunt, our bloodstock is bad, our history makes Wickham look like a saint with a shining halo. Though admittedly I cannot speak for the daughters, our history is only interested in the eldest son only. My grandfather had two sons, Jules was the elder, and the heir to the estate. My uncle Pierre was the youngest son. To say that they were even remotely close would be lying, a big, black, hairy lie. My father would do anything to keep my uncle from inheriting, it is no secret that my mother did not marry for love. On the other hand, my uncle would do anything to get that inheritance. I will state right now that my Uncle Pierre ended up as a high official in the Republican Government. He was executed on the same day as Robespierre." Mr. Bennet fell silent once more.
"I married your mother when I was twenty. I cannot answer why I married her, but she was there and I needed a family. Mr. Christian Bennet had only died a short time before. As I said before, our family, the de la Chatelet's were in debt, deeply in debt, in fact, everything was mortgaged up to the hilt, my father was desperate for money. But I will never condone his behaviour, even though I very nearly was the main offender. When Mr. Bennet died, he left me everything. This of course delighted my father, unfortunately there were certain conditions attached to my inheriting all. But these conditions did not deter my father.
"The conditions were that I assume the name of Bennet and renounce my ancestry. I had no difficulty with this, I knew Mr. Bennet better than I knew my own father, and on top of this I liked him over my father. Except for Mr. Bennet I had had no family life, so I willingly went through the necessary procedures, I was at the time a trifle naive, but I was glad that my father gave the move his full support, it was not until later that I realised why he gave it his full support. What my father planned was very nearly a bare-faced swindle, in fact, the only reason why it did not class as a swindle, was the fact that we were of the French Aristocracy. My father's plan was that I become a Bennet, but only for a short period of time. By my father's plan, I was to spend exactly the length of time it took to transfer all the funds into the de la Chatelet name, as a Bennet. And then I was to become a de la Chatelet again. It was during the legal wrangles involved in my inheriting all that I met and married your mother. My father had bought this property and estate as soon as he heard that I was the inheritor.
"I will admit right now that your mother knows almost nil about my life as anything other than Mr. Bennet of Longbourn. Admittedly this was false, but at the time things were too risky, I did not wish to either give her false hopes, or to endanger her. Anyway, as I was saying, my father had his own ideas about what was going to happen. However, he never took me into account, I was just his son who would obey his orders. Unfortunately I was his stumbling block, maybe I was a freak, maybe it was Mr. Bennet who taught it to me, I don't know, but I had a streak of honesty which would not allow me to carry the swindle through." Mr. Bennet fell into silent pacing once more, and appeared totally oblivious to what was around him.
Elizabeth glanced up at Darcy, but his face expressed little other than curiosity. Lydia was showing no expression at all.
"I did not transfer those funds through to my father, and had it not been for the revolution, I expect I would have been officially disowned. I paid my father for the estate out of old Christian's money, but after that I locked it down. By the time all the legal tangles had been straightened out and I was actually given access to the money Elizabeth had been born. And then the Revolution occurred. My father was one of the first to be condemned to the Guillotine. I watched that execution, I sat in the crowd and cheered as sincerely as the next man as my father was led up and laid down. My applause was as delighted as the next man's when his head rolled.
"The League was barely formed at the time and I was drifting around Paris. I cannot now even remember why I was there, but I was. I saw my father's execution, then I joined the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel." Mr. Bennet fell silent for a moment. Then when he took up the story again his voice was soft and remembering.
"I do not know why I went to Paris, I do not know what drove me to join the League, but something did. Maybe it was guilt, I honestly don't know." Than his voice strengthened again. "I was imprisoned within six months of my Father's execution. It was the work of my uncle Pierre, not that I blame him, I was the last obstacle between him and inheriting. The man who made these rings was one of our early rescues, he made them to express his gratitude. I do not know why I received one, I was a Frenchman, and an aristocrat, and bred from the very worst family. But I received one. But back to the story I was imprisoned and destined for the guillotine. The French prisons are notorious, and having been in one, I can vouch that they deserve the notoriety. They were dark and damp, planks were used for seats and beds. Food was rationed at one mug of brackish water and half a loaf of stale bread.
"I was imprisoned for nearly a month before I was rescued. But the rescue has little to do with this matter. I shared my cell with five men, and a boy of six or seven. The boy was alone, and he kept very successfully to himself. Four of the men I knew, they were almost as bad as my father, I kept my distance. The fifth man was an Englishman, and a former member of the league. He was imprisoned shortly before I was, and was executed within three days of my arrival. Anyway he was the holder of the fifth ring, what has happened to the ring, I don't know, he didn't have it in the prison, so I assume he put it in storage or lost it before I arrived. Anyway, that man is a tragedy in himself. He was the Viscount Dearling, one of Britain's best men, in the intelligence department, he was also an honest man. Though neither knew it, and I didn't know it until after he left. That boy, he was called Walker James, was his son."
"But didn't the second Viscount die seven years before the revolution?" Elizabeth turned in surprise at the sound of Lydia's voice.
"That is when he was officially recorded as dead. He was listed dead before the boy was born. But he was not dead."
"How's he survive?"
"I believe it was a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The second Viscount Dearling was originally arrested as a French citizen involved in a minor burglary. As it is with being an international agent, there was nothing England could do, and as it was assumed that he was picked up as an agent, he was assumed executed and all relatives were informed that he was dead. Viscount Dearling spent almost seven years imprisoned. How he managed to retain his sanity I do not ask, but he did. He was released for a bit under six months at the very beginning of the revolution, which he spent working for the League. He was recaptured during a bungled rescue. Someone did not follow there instructions implicitly or something like that. Anyway, he died to save his companions."
"Okay." Lydia fell silent again.
"It took nearly half my stay before I could get that boy to talk. He was very private, information had to be pried out of him, and removed from the verbal rubbish he surrounded it with. Even at that young age he displayed some of his talents, no information plant stayed long in our cell, Walker James always located them and identified them, he just knew them for what they were. He was almost terrifying in his silence and capabilities. Before he left that cell he swore an oath on that ring." Mr. Bennet indicated the ring that Elizabeth held. "He swore to follow his principles, and retain his honour. And now I can only hope that the habit is deeply ingrained." There was a moment of silence before Darcy spoke up.
"Why that, sir?"
"He swore that while he retained the ring, he would hold by that oath, even if it killed him." Mr. Bennet hesitated and eyed the ring with misgiving. "And it has returned to me, it is no longer his. If it is not a habit, or part of himself, I fear a devil has been loosed on this unsuspecting world." Darcy frowned but silently nodded. "As I said, I was eventually rescued by the League. I continued working for the League on an intermittent basis for the next year, after that I ceased activity. The execution rate had died down, Mary had just been born. With three kids there was no way I could continue to rationalize risking my life, and continuing these adventures. So I settled down to manage Longbourn."
"If you'll pardon it, sir. What do you live off?"
"Longbourn brings in 2000pounds as a net profit. It is off that that we live." Darcy nodded slowly.
"And what of Mr. Christian Bennet's funds?"
"Those I locked away. I have no right to the money. And I have no access for a couple of months yet."
"What does it bring?"
"I honestly don't know." Mr. Bennet looked slightly thoughtful. "It had a net profit around 60,000 pounds when I inherited it. But it has just been sitting and compounding for more than twenty years now." Darcy's jaw dropped and he whistled softly.
"No wonder your father was willing to risk so much to get his hands on it." Elizabeth looked dumbfounded, Lydia had her brows deeply creased. "What's it in?"
"Mostly consols. But there are some northern properties I've had to check on occasionally. Also the money from his business and shares in a woollen mill in Yorkshire." Elizabeth gave a slightly feeble chuckle.
"It would appear you did not marry below yourself after all, Darcy." This collapsed them into laughter.
Chapter 12
Darcy shifted his shoulders uneasily, then propped himself against the wall in the corner. He watched the dancing in a fairly abstract manner. He had half an eye on Lydia's butterfly progressions around the room. Half an eye on Elizabeth, half an eye on his father-in-law, who was talking to Elizabeth, and half an eye on the room in general, making sure that no one approached him close enough to compel him to engage them in conversation. Elizabeth could not help but laugh at the sight of her husband perched morosely against the wall, appearing to eye the company sardonically and disdainfully.
"Takes the years away. Doesn't it?" Elizabeth turned to look at her father who was propped over the back of her chair.
"Indeed it does, all we need is Jane, and Bingley, plus his sisters and Mr. Hurst. then you could hardly tell it apart from that assembly."
"Why's Darcy wearing his father's signet?"
"Couldn't say. But Lydia is wearing yours as a thumb ring."
"Interesting, I had not noticed that. Care for this dance Lizzie? Or will Mr. Darcy become jealous and challenge me to a duel."
"I think it will be permissible, you are a relative after all. And anyway dueling became illegal in this country more than a few years ago."
"Indeed, I can remember the outrage that resulted of the ruling. Have a talk with the Duke of Avon, he killed his man three times. But admittedly, it was his wife, not the law that put a cease to his activities."
"The Duchess of Avon is indeed a charming woman." Commented Elizabeth as her father led her into the set that was forming.
"You should also ask after the present Duke's mother. She was apparently French and delightful. I unfortunately never met her, she died soon after her husband." Elizabeth chuckled appreciatively.
Elizabeth had an earnest desire to commit suicide when she heard of Lydia's projected trip into Meryton to see their aunt Phillips. She knew that the trip would be no where near so appropriate.
"Oh you need not come Lizzie, but it will be most unkind of Mr. Darcy if he refuses to accompany us." Elizabeth almost choked at this.
"With pleasure Mrs. Wickham. But are you sure it would be good for you? Remember it has only rained this day past. Also are you sure it is appropriate for a woman in your situation to venture into town? Did you speak Mrs. Darcy?" Elizabeth had not spoken, she had choked. Elizabeth shook her head, still unable to respond.
"I am sure you are to concerned for Lydia, Mr. Darcy. The mud has dried already, and what would not be appropriate, she is only visiting my sister Phillips in town." Elizabeth found it difficult not to laugh when Darcy met her eyes.
After Darcy, Lydia and Kitty had left for there trip to town to visit their aunt Phillips, Elizabeth retired to the library to read with her father. Mrs. Bennet had tried to have her stay, but Lizzie's excuse was that her husband expected her to read for at least an hour every morning.
"But Lizzie that is unnecessary. Anyway, we can say you did even if you didn't."
"You might be able to, but I cannot."
"Oh." Elizabeth left on that note, and soon was reading happily with her father. Elizabeth glanced up from her book when she heard the soft knock on the window, and looked at her father. He seemed similarly surprised, but rose and went to open the windows which opened onto the garden.
"I beg your pardon. But could you tell me where I could find Longbourn, please?" Elizabeth could not see the speaker as her father was obscuring her view, but the voice sounded familiar.
"This is Longbourn, did you not enter by the main drive?"
"No, sir. I came 'cross-country. Could I please speak to Mr. Bennet?"
"I am he." Mr. Bennet still did not move, Elizabeth could see an abnormal tension in her father's back.
"I'm Walker James. I need to speak to you urgently, sir." Elizabeth could visibly see her father's back muscles contract, then he stepped back and courteously opened the window further, allowing the visitor to enter.
"Why if it isn't Lord Thomlin." Elizabeth curtsied briefly when she recognised him, then returned to her book.
"Mrs. Darcy." He looked over at Mr. Bennet, who met his searching look equably.
"She is my daughter. Take a seat." Thomlin sat down momentarily, but was up and pacing again within seconds.
"If I could possibly speak to you in private, sir?" Mr. Bennet silently watched the pacing for a moment, then without turning his head.
"Elizabeth, if you'll excuse us?" Elizabeth nodded, and immediately departed, closing the door behind herself. Mr. Bennet sat down behind his desk and waited, waited for Thomlin to start. But Thomlin did not start, he just paced, Mr. Bennet sighed, his mind flying down the passages of years. The boy had never started a conversation. "Why'd you send the ring back?" Thomlin collapsed into a chair as if released.
"I need advice, sir. And I need it like I've never needed advice before."
"What's the problem?" Thomlin raked his fingers restlessly through his hair.
"Well that's almost what my problem is, I don't know what my problem is." Mr. Bennet's eyebrows rose and he made a light grimace.
"Well suppose you just start talking about what's happened since we parted in the prison, and then maybe you'll know." Thomlin frowned momentarily, then nodded.
"It'll have to be an edited version, there are some things which I cannot relate without breaching security." Mr. Bennet nodded.
"I assumed as much." Thomlin raked his fingers through his hair a second time, causing it to stand on end.
"Well I don't know how much you know or don't know, but after we separated in the prison, I think I was nearly guillotined, I can't remember, but I ended up buried somewhere in the Committee for Public Safety, undergoing intense training. There was no one else around even remotely near my own age, but I think it is a side issue. Anyway, I soon found that I was breaking that oath at almost every turn. Realizing this I then had a couple of options in front of me. I could return the ring, and continue as I had begun, not a prospect that beckoned me, I could feel your disappointment in my even considering the idea. Or I could clean up my act and start keeping that oath. I ended up following the latter course, and as far as my honour and principles go, I have followed them." Mr. Bennet nodded silently. "That ring has been my conscience for years, my final question in every decision has been, what would he think of such a move? This business does not permit much in the way of friendship, and by being principled I separated myself even further. I do have some friends, but unfortunately I cannot turn to them right now, they are all in British intelligence and it would be there duty to hand over some of the material that I need to refer to." Mr. Bennet nodded.
"I am still a Frenchman." Thomlin nodded distractedly, pushing a piece of hair out of his face.
"Unfortunately, in this business, your duty is above and beyond your personal loyalties. I was fortunate, I had no live relatives that I was aware of and am private by nature." Thomlin scratched the tip of one ear, pausing while his mind sorted out the material he could relate, from that which he could not. "You may be aware, but as also you may also not be aware, that I became Napoleon's number one man with his ascension into power. It is a position of incredible power, people talk about the allure of power. But it is worse than that. Power is intoxicating, and addictive, the more you get, the more you want. Perhaps it was my training, perhaps it is just a personal trait, but power had little attraction for me, and that is probably a good thing, or I would certainly have deserted that oath. Life in Napoleon's court was exciting, it was intoxicating, it was magic, it was Napoleon. I cannot say what it is, but that man is magic, he could probably make stones obey him. Anyway, as his head man, I was constantly in court. It was my job to prevent it from being infiltrated by foreign agents." Thomlin hesitated again slowly rubbing his hands together. "That was not my only job. On occasion I was sent out into the lower society, and a couple of times I descended to the very depths and worked my way back up. Basically it was a purging of the system. It was fun to do the thorough purges, well not all of it, but it tested your skills to the utmost. While trying to identify the hidden, you were trying to hide yourself. Then the Empire fell." Thomlin stopped again, his eyes gazing sightlessly into the distance.
Chapter 13
It was several minutes before Thomlin realised that he had ceased speaking. "Sorry, sir. Unlike many people in positions of power, my work did not go. Our unit was handed over intact to the Bourbon monarch, our orders were to continue working for the king, but I think it is more that Napoleon intends to return and he wishes for our unit to remain intact till that day. And until that day I work for a man I despise." Mr. Bennet sensed an undercurrent of something else, but he said nothing, who knows perhaps it would explain itself later. "Court life in any society in my position is exciting and a cut-throat business, quite literally, all courts and societies are rife with agents. Both foreign and home agents, while the foreign's work to get information out of the place, the home's are working to prevent that information leaving and to get the foreign out. The usual method is to hand them over to the military, and let the military execute them. To be honest, we have English society fairly riddled, or we did. Then Lady Sophia arrived."
"And you have orders to terminate her practices?" Thomlin nodded. "But haven't you had similar jobs before?"
"Quite a few, but this one is different. I cannot find whom the identity of Lady Sophia conceals."
"Then back to the original question. Why did you return the ring?" Thomlin creased his brows.
"I suppose it's because I've relied on it for years, with this job I wanted to have only myself to blame."
"You mean your going to terminate her anyway? How long have you been on the job?"
"I hadn't totally decided, and about six months." Mr. Bennet looked surprised.
"You become impatient if you find little in six months?" Thomlin blinked.
"N...o.. At least, I don't think so. But yes usually I clean up all within two or three months."
"Definitely you are better than your father." Mr. Bennet frowned thoughtfully.
"You knew my father?"
"Yes. Not very well admittedly, but well enough. How much do you remember of the prison?"
"Not much, mostly images. There were five men with me for a few days after your arrival, and then the Englishman left."
"What do you remember of the Englishman?"
"Not much, but he gave me some candy just before he left." Mr. Bennet smiled, interested at the things that might take priority in a child's mind. "Was he my father?" Mr. Bennet nodded. "But why was he registered as dead then?"
"He was an accidental arrest, and as he was illegally in the country England could have done nothing about securing his release, even if they'd wanted to."
"What was he doing?"
"Very much what your doing, but for the other side. When he was arrested." Thomlin wrinkled up his nose.
"Seven years?!" He shook his head slowly. "It's a wonder his still sane. I've been in those prisons on occasion, and it is not an enjoyable experience."
"Not very surprising, it is a prison, not a comfortable hotel. Try for another six months, your father frequently took more than six months to nail an agent. I notice you're wearing his ring." Thomlin glanced at it momentarily.
"Yes, it came as a 'late' pile in my inheritance. It was the smallest thing he left, the next smallest being a rifle."
"Always carrying an old army rifle would certainly give rise to comment. But be proud of your father, he died to save others, and he never broke his principles." Thomlin nodded, and stood up.
"Thank you sir, you've b..." At this point Thomlin was interrupted by Lydia who explosively entered the room.
"Oh, papa. The officers are holding a ball next week. Mama said that we must get your permission to go. Please say we may. Please papa."
"Oh very well." Mr. Bennet waved at her to depart, and Lydia grabbed the hand, which she squeezed and shook.
"Oh thank you papa." Lydia hurried back to the door where Elizabeth was frowning her disapproval. "Don't be so stuffy Lizzie. Mama! Kitty! Papa says we may attend." Lydia vanished, Elizabeth looked her apologies at the two men, and then closed the door again.
"Now what were you saying when we were interrupted. I apologize for Lydia's behaviour, she never seems to have learnt better."
"It doesn't matter, sir. I was just saying thank you, even if you don't understand, you've helped me straighten out a lot of things."
"I'm glad to hear it. By-the-bye, do you wish to take the ring back?"
"Perhaps if I continued the oath onto something else like my father's ring. Then you can use your ring to save some other poor misguided soul."
"I hope that was not being serious." Mr. Bennet reached into a draw on his desk and after a moment he abstracted a small black-and-white enamel cross on a black ribbon. "Perhaps if you transfer the oath to this. This little number can appear without comment in any society, and at worst you can conceal it inside your shirt. Thomlin looked quietly at the cross for a moment, then he closed Mr. Bennet's hands over it, and his over Mr. Bennet's. There was a moment of silence, then Thomlin raised his gaze, to meet Mr. Bennet's eyes.
"I will not break sir."
Elizabeth stared in amazement at Lydia.
"How could you just burst in on them like that. I never thought that you were that bad Lydia."
"Oh be quiet Lizzie. I had to return the ring. Now I need to prepare for dinner, so if you'll please excuse me." Lydia hurried out of the room, leaving Elizabeth to scratch her head in bewilderment. She was still bewildered when Darcy found her several minutes later.
"What's up Elizabeth?" Elizabeth shook her head.
"I honestly doubt that I'll ever understand Lydia."
"I doubt any of us will, but you need to change for dinner." He led Elizabeth upstairs and turned her over to her maid. He then went and knocked gently on Lydia's door.
"Yes" Lydia's head peeked around the door. "Oh, come in Mr. Darcy. I am quite decent I assure you." Darcy made a non committal noise.
"What did you do that so upset Elizabeth, she declares she will never understand you." Lydia looked a whisker guilty.
"That is my fault, I used the officers ball to burst in on Papa and Lord Thomlin so I could return Papa's ring." Darcy nodded.
"I see, and I'm not particularly surprised. Very Lydia like. I'll see you at supper." Darcy departed, and he could hear Lydia's smothered giggles as he walked down the hall, he shook his head. He had to agree with Elizabeth, he doubted he would ever understand the paradox called Lydia.
Thomlin sat silently in semi-bewilderment mid-way down the table, admittedly he had been into many different societies and social levels, but never had he been in a place like this. Mrs. Bennet, Lydia and Kitty were loudly discussing officers at one end of the table. Mary was spouting moral platitudes in a loud voice across the table from him, she seemed to hope that by saying them loudly would get them listened to. Darcy, Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet were holding what appeared to be an interesting conversation, at the other end of the table. Unfortunately they were too distant for him to take a part in the conversation they were holding, so he remained silent and spoke to no one. His fingers played continuously with the small cross, which he was wearing.
Lydia sat up when she heard the soft knock on her door.
"Come in." A candle entered, followed by Mr. Bennet.
"Thomlin is spending the night in the library. This was just a warning so you don't go after some books in the middle of the night and get surprised by him." Lydia nodded.
"Thank you for the warning. Did he take the ring?" Mr. Bennet shook he head.
"No, but he transferred it to a cross."
"The one he was fiddling with during dinner?"
"Yes. Lydia, I don't know where this is going to end. But I would prefer that you retained your principles and died, then you ignored your principles and survived." Lydia nodded solemnly, then hopped out of bed to hug her father.
"I do not know where it will end either. But I will remain honest."
"Good girl." Mr. Bennet handed her a small enamel cross. "Do what you like with it, but remember, your father has always loved you." Lydia grinned impudently.
"So that is why you deserted me to the tender mercies of Mr. Darcy." M Bennet shook his head.
"You are getting uppity miss. Into bed with you, and sleep well." Lydia returned to her bed, and Mr. Bennet walked out of the room.
Chapter 14
Mr. Bennet silently enjoyed the chaos at his breakfast table. Mrs. Bennet, Lydia and Kitty were discussing officers and the constitutional effects of sea bathing. Mary was trying to read Fordyce's sermons, eat her breakfast, and at the same time plug her ears, but she did not seem to be succeeding. Darcy and Elizabeth were getting into a heated discussion about two books, one seemed to be called Elinor and Marianne, or something of similar type and the other was Glenarvon, or something like that. Darcy seemed to consider the book shocking and inappropriate. But at the same time, Mr. Bennet had the feeling that he wasn't particularly shocked, just saying so to keep the argument going. Thomlin was seated a bit back from the table, and he was aimlessly pushing his food around on his plate, he seemed to be eating very little. Mr. Bennet watched the face in silence for a minute, then he notice the small creases of fatigue and tension around his eyes and mouth. Mr. Bennet's eyebrows rose fractionally. It would appear that things were even more complicated than he had formerly envisaged. Mr. Bennet excused himself soon afterwards, and was not surprised when Thomlin followed him, and collapsed almost immediately with a book.
"Where did you go last night?" Thomlin sat up with a jolt and looked rather sharply at Mr. Bennet. "I saw your departure, but not your return." Thomlin slowly started to relax.
"Only riding, sir. I'll show you my horse later." Mr. Bennet looked at him for a minute then nodded. "A conscience is one hell of a handicap in this business."
"And so is a heart."
"I don't have one." Thomlin did not even look up, but he grabbed his book and returned to his reading.
"I'd sleep now, this place only gets noisier as the day progresses." Thomlin looked up briefly, then nodded briefly, discarded the book, an reclined on the floor behind the sofa. Mr. Bennet saw the training, immediate, but light sleep, nothing but an abnormal noise would disturb the boy. Mr. Bennet shook his head and returned to his desk and the management problems he was wrestling with.
Mr. Bennet dropped his pen and stood up as the luncheon gong rang, a glance showed that Thomlin had not even stirred. Mr. Bennet thought back to when he had briefly shared quarters with the second Viscount, and wondered whether the boy had a similar ability. Quietly Mr. Bennet stole towards the sleeping figure, sure enough, just before he was within reach a grey-green eye sprang open and eyed him for a second, before the owner of the eye stood up and stretched. Mr. Bennet could here the bones and muscles cracking and stretching.
"May I compliment you on your floors Mr. Bennet, they are one of the most comfortable floors I have slept on."
"Well the luncheon gong just rang." Thomlin nodded.
"I'll show you Devil after luncheon." Thomlin followed Mr. Bennet out of the room and back into the chaos of the house. Darcy and Elizabeth were still arguing over the propriety and properness of the novel Glenarvon, by one Caroline Lamb. Lydia and Kitty were squabbling over some lace, Mary was quoting from Fordyce's sermons, and Mrs. Bennet was complaining about the condition of her nerves once again. Thomlin listened with vague interest to the swirling conversations.
"And next you will probably say that I am as innocent as that heroine Calantha."
"I can say nothing of the kind."
"It says here that virtue, in a woman.."
"My poor nerves, you have absolutely no compassion for my nerves, and they are in such a state."
"You are mistaken my dear."
"I tell you Kitty, that lace looks absolutely foul on you, give it to me and I'll let you have that blue lace of mine."
"No I made it. Mama! Papa! It is not fair, Lydia is trying to steal my lace."
"Hush, one should do unto others as we would have done unto.."
"Oh be quiet Mary. Lizzie, it is not fair."
"In a second Kitty. I disagree with you, the book may be improper for people in a specific age group, but I will not hold that it is an improper book. It is very badly written but.."
"I said nothing of the sort. Now attend to your sister so we may continue this in peace."
"Oh Lizzie, have you seen the Lady Barbara's new riding habit. I saw it just before we departed town."
"So what, it is most improper. Even Lady Sophia was not that bad. And no not Marquise de la Chatelet. I refer to the Sophia who married Charles Rivington. Who are they Darcy?"
"Lord and Lady Ombersley. Remember we must invite them to our next ball." Elizabeth nodded.
"She even went galloping ventre-a-terre in Hyde Park."
He sat, unexciting and uninteresting, next to his queen. King Louis XVIII was an uninspiring monarch, to say the least. Thomlin bit down on his frustration, he did not know really why he had agreed to enter his service, but he had and now it was too late. He bowed briefly.
"You sent."
"I really wonder how he tolerated you." Thomlin stiffened slightly, and his face hardened.
"M'sieur, I am not a French subject. You had best state your business."
"His royal highness wishes to know how you proceed with the problem of the Marquise de la Chatelet." The footman stepped respectfully back, knowing exactly what would happen next, and happen it did. Thomlin swung around onto the footman.
"You may inform his royal highness that nothing proceeds when I am being recalled every two months." This was followed by a brief spate of conversation between the footman and the king. Thomlin smiled grimly at the footman's attempts to phrase the response diplomatically.
"His royal highness is merely concerned about your lack of progress."
"Well you may tell his royal highness that constant recalls merely hamper progress." This was followed by a bit more conversation.
"His royal highness would like to know if you think that someone else would do a better job?" Thomlin choked.
"Tell his highness that he can do what ever he pleases, but will thank him not to meddle in business he does not understand. I say there is little possibility of progress. In our circles, and to whom it concerns, such a statement means that the person in question has temporarily or permanently ceased activities." There was more conversation.
"His royal highness feels compelled to say that he thinks you must be being careless."
"His royal highness can feel compelled to say what ever he chooses. The Marquise de la Chatelet is no longer in circulation, because she has changed her identity and operating base. She is now somewhere near the third militia and is weeding out Pierre and his crowd."
"How do you know that?" Thomlin eyed the King with dislike.
"Because Pierre was nailed the night you recalled me." The footman had temporarily departed while Thomlin was speaking, and he shortly returned with a large dispatch envelope, he opened the dispatch and handed it to the King. King Louis perused the dispatch and frowned.
"Send Jacques to Meryton immediately."
"How many has she got by that report?"
"Four."
"Then you're wasting your time, Jacques time, and my time by doing such a tomfool thing. That dispatch was written ten days ago, the lady has already moved on, or she will have buried herself underground, waiting for just such a thing to occur."
"Assign him to it anyway. You may take a holiday." Thomlin stiffened, bowed and departed immediately. Thomlin handed the not insubstantial folio on Lady Sophia, Marquise de la Chatelet, over to Jacques, then departed. He was going to waste not one minute now.
Chapter 15
Grant stood quietly, waiting, while Wellington strode restlessly up and down the room.
"Go back and pump the fellow. We can't act on such vague hints."
"It is the vague hints which are the most reliable. We can't pump him, he's gone underground." Wellington looked narrowly at Grant. "And I am speaking the truth."
"You boys are sometimes impossibly close. We have definite proof of this man's activities, and yet you seem determined to prevent a hair on his head from being hurt."
"That is because with that man he must be totally eliminated of left alone. I will have nothing to do with stirring up devils. We cannot hold Thomlin, he will raise hell because he is a British subject. And I'll be damned If I ever give him an excuse to by-pass his principles."
"Well if he's a British subject than it is all the better reason to pull him in."
"Your Grace, the man is a collector. Do we hang, or execute the man because he has been slitting throats in France?" Wellington looked annoyed, then nodded.
"Okay. Act as you see fit, I need to return to Vienna." Wellington nodded and left the small room, Grant didn't even turn his head.
"Jack." the man shuffled into the room. "Get through to Fizz and tell him to warn Sophia. I'm for Scotland tonight, and then the continent. I need to trace this back to its source." Jack nodded and shuffled out of the room, soon followed by Grant who had hesitated only long enough to grab his coat.
Lydia glanced up from the fancywork she was stitching onto her new bonnet when the maid entered.
"The master would like to see Mrs. Wickham in the library as soon as possible." The maid bobbed a brief curtsey before she vanished back out the door. Lydia glanced at Elizabeth, then laid down her bonnet and excused herself. She found Darcy restlessly pacing in the library.
"You sent?"
"Yes, a man called Jack just came. He told me to tell you that Jacques is your new tail." Lydia paled, then studied her fingers intently.
"Thank you."
"Is something the matter Lydia?"
"Not really. I am just a bit worried, for Jacques to have taken over, it means Thomlin has been removed from the job. One therefore asks, why was he removed, and what is he doing?" Darcy nodded slowly.
"I hadn't actually considered that. Jack also muttered something about source and underground." Lydia nodded.
"That just means that the source ran some risks to get the information through and has now purposely faded out of view. Thank you. Is that all?" Darcy nodded, Lydia dropped a brief curtsey, then hurried out of the room.
She was walking down a dark alley, looking for something. It was a thing, not a person, perhaps it was a cab, but Lydia could see no cab. She carefully skirted some dustbins which were piled in a messy heap, and turned the corner, as she turned she shivered and pulled her wrap more tightly around herself. Then an arm reached out and grabbed her, it yanked her back into the shadows of a door recess, and held her firmly. One arm held her hands and arms and kept her still, the other hand covered her mouth, preventing her from making a sound. Then she heard it, a soft scrunch of approaching footsteps. Lydia battled with the terror that welled up inside her. As the approaching footsteps rounded the corner she found her captor had momentarily released her arms, she felt him convulse, and then she was being dragged into the house and hurried through it, she had seen the follower start to fall before she was pulled inside. It was an old house and the floor boards creaked menacingly and sounded very unsafe. But soon they entered another alley.
"Straight ahead and take the second right. Run!" Her captor melted back into the shadows and after a seconds hesitation Lydia started to run, after what felt like an age the streets suddenly started to appear familiar, but Lydia could not stop running. Lydia jolted upright, shivering violently, as her equilibrium slowly stabilized, the dream was the same as it had always been. She had been walking down a dark alley, probably after changing after a ball, for she was always dressed as Lydia. Sophia' dresses had lower waists and higher necks.
"Lydia?"
"Lizzie?"
"Yes. Who did you think it might be?"
"I don't know. What are you doing up?"
"You screamed. Is everything okay?"
"Yes...no. It's just a recurrent nightmare."
"Are you sure it's nothing." Lydia nodded.
"Yes I'm sure."
"Can you talk about it?"
"I'd prefer not to. But I will if I have another nightmare."
"Okay." Elizabeth and her candle disappeared, and Lydia slowly sank back, still fighting the feeling of empty fear that followed these nightmares. 'Straight ahead and take the second right. Run!' Lydia could still hear that soft but all powerful voice, that was the voice of a man who did not brook being crossed.
Mr. Bennet looked up when he heard the approaching horse, there was the jangle on the front door, then Hill appeared.
"Mr. Bennet, sir. There is a young gentleman to see you, he says it's urgent."
"No name, Hill?"
"No, sir." Mr. Bennet nodded.
"Show him in." Mr. Bennet laid down his book and walked over to the fire, which was smoldering damply in the hearth. He gave it a kick and stirred it up with his boot, the fire sparkled feebly for a minute than died down again as Mr. Bennet turned to look at this unnamed visitor. He was tall and raggedly dressed, but for the life of him, Mr. Bennet could not recognise him, even thought something seemed familiar about him.
"I beg your pardon, sir. But I wish to remain fairly anonymous in my visit here."
"Then you should have come through the window. Take a seat and what's the problem?"
"I've been sent to Vienna."
"Well don't murder anyone. What's so important about that?"
"France is getting restless again. Sir it is highly likely that there will be a French revolt, if not a war. Louis is to staid for most of them." Mr. Bennet grimaced.
"You can say that again. Though I find him pompous and self-important rather than staid." Thomlin struggled momentarily with his expression, then finally gave way to his amusement.
"But you're right, he usually talks to me via the closest footman. Who is a nasty bit of work. Only time he doesn't is when he is making insulting remarks in my general direction, or I have positively astonished him with some piece of information."
"So he's trying to run your unit? That must be fun."
"You can say that again. But short of retiring there is little I can do."
"Can't you defect?"
"I get regular offers, but it is doubtful whether they would trust me sufficiently. I'm used to running these things, I do not think I'd be satisfied with becoming a mere cog again." Mr. Bennet nodded slowly.
"So if you defect, you'll do it then retire."
"Probably. Could I borrow a bit of floor to sleep on?"
"Sure. Take your choice, there's no shortage of the stuff." Thomlin chuckled and was soon asleep behind the sofa.
Chapter 16
Mr. Bennet leant cautiously up against the fence, watching the large black horse in silence. It was a huge horse, with magnificent lines, and an intelligent head.
"Devil?!" The horse minced to within a short distance of Mr. Bennet, then whickered, turning his head to eye Mr. Bennet back. Mr. Bennet noted with amusement that the horse was in such a position, and at such a distance that Mr. Bennet could not have touched the horse, even if he'd wanted to.
"He's well trained that 'oss." Mr. Bennet tuned to see one of the tenants standing at a respectful distance behind him.
"You speak Jenkins?"
"Aye, sir. Just commenting that that was one well trained 'oss. We spent thirty minutes trying to get him to the stables after the young man arrived. We couldna lay a finger on him, and there were six of us."
"Six?!" Mr. Bennet eyed the horse with renewed interest, this was definitely a well trained horse. Either that, or his men were incompetent. Mr. Bennet did not like the idea of the latter option, so the horse had to be well trained.
"Aye, sir. Mr. Hill was awondering whether the young man was going to remain. Mrs. Hill being concerned about bedding."
"You may tell Hill that he might stay, but Mrs. Hill need not concern herself about bedding."
"Very good, sir." Jenkins departed, and Mr. Bennet returned to his inspection of the horse. Mr. Bennet did not know how long he had been watching the horse, but a shrill whistle and the moving off of the horse roused him, and he glanced up to see Thomlin standing by Devil's head a bit further down the field. Mr. Bennet pushed himself up off the fence and walked along the line to where Thomlin and Devil were.
"So you've woken at last." Thomlin glanced up, then grinned a bit guiltily.
"Ahh, yes, sir. Would you like to see Devil's paces?" Mr. Bennet hesitated then nodded.
"Our stablehands claim that Devil is well trained?" Thomlin snorted slightly.
"He'd want to be. Horses are frequently abused or stolen, and I intend to have neither happen to Devil." Thomlin pulled his tack out, and Mr. Bennet watched in bewilderment as the meagre tack went on, followed by Thomlin. "Indian tack, it's quick, light and handy." Mr. Bennet nodded, slightly bewildered, but soon thought no more about it as Devil went into action.
Elizabeth stood quietly in the doorway watching, Lydia was lying on her bed working on something, but Elizabeth could not see what.
"Lydia?" There was a slight pause, then Lydia rolled over and sat up.
"What is it Lizzie?"
"Lady Worth and Colonel Audley have come to pay a visit." Lydia hesitated momentarily.
"Lydia Bennet, or Lydia the widow?" Lizzie smiled slowly.
"I think Lydia Bennet. I'll expect you in five minutes. Colonel Audley is not in regimentals."
"Staff officers frock coat?"
"I don't know. I haven't followed military fashions closely." Lydia grinned suddenly.
"Very well Lizzie, I will come and misbehave in a couple of minutes. But do not be surprised if something happens." Lizzie hesitated.
"Okay." She turned and left, leaving Lydia to hurriedly change gowns, before scampering downstairs. "LIZZIE!" She came into the room at a very quick walk. "LIZZIE! I have lost my...Oh I beg your pardon, I did not realise you had visitors."
"I noticed." Elizabeth's tone was dry. "Lady Worth, Colonel Audley, my sister Lydia Wickham. Lydia, Lady Judith, the countess of Worth, and her brother Colonel Audley."
"How do you do?" Lydia curtsied briefly, then turned back to Elizabeth. "Lizzie that maid is intolerable. I wish her to be replaced at once. Look what she did to my lace?"
"Lydia, I have guests, could this please wait til later?" Lydia hesitated, then nodded.
"Very well, but I wonder at you keeping such a ...."
"Lydia, I said later." Lydia snorted then walked out of the room. Elizabeth shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry about that, she has just lost her husband." Judith replied with some polite formality.
"Did you say her name was Wickham?" Elizabeth looked in surprise at Colonel Audley, who was on the last day of his leave.
"Yes. She married Lieutenant George Wickham four years ago."
"Lieutenant Wickham!" Elizabeth did not know why, but she felt like she had done something wrong. "Oh, yes! That was the fellow who suicided." Colonel Audley shook his head.
"Elizabeth, can we expect you at the Belmanoirs tonight?" Elizabeth hesitated momentarily, then nodded.
"Yes, I believe you may. Fitzwilliam, are we going to the Belmanoirs tonight?" Elizabeth appealed to her husband who had just walked into the room.
"Yes, Elizabeth. We are going to the Belmanoirs. Do we pickup the Lady Sophia?" Elizabeth nodded, then turned to Judith.
"The Lady Sophia will be leaving in a week."
"No you don't say. What a pity. Charles what was it you were saying last night about the Lady Sophia?" Colonel Audley looked up from his conversation with Darcy.
"I honestly don't remember. What was the context?"
"Something about that Captain....., oh what is his name. Julian describes him as 'straight as a corkscrew'" Elizabeth watched as Darcy fought with his laughter.
"Oh, you mean Phelps. Julian's description was very accurate. No, I saw her coming out of his apartments the other day."
"LIZZIE!" Lydia erupted tempestuously back into the room.
"Will you tell your house keeper that my behaviour is none of her business. She is worse than Mrs. Trevor." Elizabeth saw Darcy turn his head away and look intently at a print that was hanging on the wall.
"Lydia, this is not your house and your behaviour is inappropriate. If you wish to avoid Mrs. Huxley, then remain either here or in your room. But will you please stop interrupting. And it is all very well for you to laugh Colonel Audley." Elizabeth turned on the Colonel who was totally incapacitated by laughter. "Lydia, I'm sure the Colonel would like to talk to you."
"Colonel?" Elizabeth could almost see Lydia's eyes light up. "Why are you not in regimentals, Colonel?" Audley choked his laughter back under control.
"I beg your pardon Mrs. Darcy. I am a staff officer Mrs. Wickham, not a combatant."
"Oh." The light dimmed somewhat from Lydia's eyes. "That must be interesting. Do you wear a cocked hat during battle?"
"Yes." Audley looked pleadingly at Elizabeth, who paused momentarily, then looked at Darcy.
"Fitzwilliam, did you not wish to show Audley that new snuff?"
"No Elizabeth, it was my brandy. Come Audley, you really must see it, and try it. It is magnificent...." Darcy's voice faded out as the two men departed and closed the door.
"I hope Lord Worth doesn't turn up soon. Fitzwilliam has been talking of nothing but that Brandy since he got it."
"I would not worry, if they are still at it when Julian arrives I expect that Julian will automatically join them. What was that you said about snuff?"
"Oh no Judith, I will not debate that subject with you. What do you think of the latest talk of the Blakeney's."
"What talk is that? About why she married him?"
"No, I'm referring to this latest talk, about why he was so frequently absent during the French revolution."
"No I haven't heard of that. What is it?" Elizabeth watched as Lydia left the room before continuing.
Lydia closed the door behind herself, then leant gently against it, she didn't know what she would do next, but it would have to be something. With a gentle sigh she pushed herself off from the wall and started to walk down the hallway, Phelps would have to go soon, he was getting too much information.
"Miss Lydia?" Lydia turned her head to look at Colonel Audley.
"Colonel Audley."
"Mr. Darcy wishes to speak to you."
"Thank you, Colonel." Lydia took the proffered arm and allowed herself to be escorted to the library.
Chapter 17
Thomlin allowed his attention to wander as Devil swung over the rolling countryside, it was two days until he needed to depart for Vienna, but tonight he needed to get to the Belmanoirs countryseat Andover Court. Thomlin couldn't help but laugh when he thought of the Belmanoir family, they seemed to be either the worst of rakes, or the saintliest Peer's, they never seemed able to find the happy medium. This was Thomlin's second last coherent thought before the world exploded in his face. His last thought was why hadn't Devil given a warning, then blackness fell. Thomlin had seen nothing, he had heard nothing, and had felt very little.
Elizabeth found Lydia unaccountably restless after Judith and the Colonel had left, she was walking around the house, doing nothing for an extended period. She might start to read, but within a short space of time she would be walking again or trying to sew.
"What is the matter Lydia? You are behaving as if the world will end in three minutes."
"Maybe it will. I don't know what the matter is Lizzie, but something does not feel right. It feels like something important has gone wrong."
"Do you want to miss this evening?" Lydia shook her head.
"No thanks. I need something to distract me." Elizabeth sighed as Lydia left the room, then picked up the book she was reading. Lydia picked a corridor at random and walked down it, until she reached another corridor, and so continued. She had no idea where she was within the house, she didn't really mind, and the walking eased her feeling of unease. Why? she demanded mentally. She had done these jobs times without count, some had worked, some failed, but never had she had this feeling of grim foreboding. But was it related to tonight, was there some other reason for this feeling.
"But what?" Lydia had not realized how quiet things were until she startled herself by speaking out loud. Lydia looked around herself. Where was she, where had she come from, and how was she going to find her way back. Lydia shook her head, and started to walk back down the corridor.
"Fitzwilliam!" Mr. Darcy looked up from his ledger as Elizabeth hurried into the room.
"What's up?"
"It's Lydia. I cannot find her."
"When did you last see her?"
"Two hours ago, she's been restless all day."
"Don't fret, she won't have left the house in this weather. Go get dressed, we'll be leaving as soon as we find her." Elizabeth left as Darcy called two footmen to help him. The Darcy town house was one of the houses that boasted a ballroom, and with the rabbit warren of guestrooms above the ballroom, it was actually a very easy house to get lost in. Mr. Darcy found Lydia holding a conversation with a large piece of statuary.
"Mr. Darcy, your statuary is most unhelpful when it comes to giving directions." Darcy smiled.
"And just why were you asking directions from my statuary?"
"Because I was lost and the floor and walls don't help. You really should paint all your hallways in different colors. I have passed this interesting man all too many times." Darcy chuckled.
"Well we need to get moving or we will be seriously late for the Belmanoirs." Lydia nodded and followed Darcy out of the maze of rooms and back to her room..
"Thank you, Mr. Darcy." Lydia vanished into her room leaving Darcy to go reassure Elizabeth.
"Where was she?" Elizabeth was already fully dressed for the ball, so she sat and watched as Darcy quickly changed his coat and breeches.
"Talking to Uncle de Bourgh's bust above the ballroom."
"Why was she talking to Uncle de Bourgh's bust?"
"She was lost and was asking directions. Apparently I should color code the hallways, so people like her don't walk around in circles." Elizabeth tilted her head thoughtfully.
"Not a bad idea, except that it would cost a lot."
"There's also the problem of making it look nice with the numerous different colors."
"You're right, I had not thought of that. You done?" Darcy nodded. "I'll get Lydia then." Elizabeth hurried out of the room, and found Lydia sitting on the stairs waiting. They descended to the lower levels and waited for the carriage to arrive.
Lydia was gazing out the window, watching as the London streets slowly receded into the country roads, suddenly she saw something. She brought her gaze in.
"Elizabeth, can you have them stop the carriage."
"Of course." Elizabeth signaled for the carriage to stop.
"What is it Lydia?"
"Something I need to check out." Lydia leapt down from the carriage and started up the road, looking for a gap in the hedgerows, finding one she slipped through, and started to walk back to what she had seen.
"Lydia!" Lydia turned to see Darcy jogging after her. "What is it?" Lydia indicated the scene ahead.
Judith frowned as she felt the carriage slow down and halt.
"What's happening?"
"I don't know." Worth stuck his head out the window, but could not see. "Charles! What is it?" Judith could not understand the answer, but Worth immediately drew his head in. "It would appear that a carriage has pulled up ahead of us. I'm getting out to see what's wrong. Care to join me?" Judith followed Worth out of the carriage, then joined Colonel Audley and approached the halted carriage. The coachman sat on top, trying to see something over the hedge, the outriders were holding the horses.
"I canna make it out. Seems to have summat to do with that dang 'orse I saw."
"Hi, you there!" The coachman looked down as Colonel Audley approached. "What's up stopping in the middle of the road?"
"Hard to say, sir." The coachman touched his cap. "The master and his sister took off into this field, appears to have summat to do with a black horse." Colonel Audley frowned and glanced at Worth and Judith
"Colonel Audley?" Elizabeth descended from the carriage.
"Elizabeth! What is going on?" Judith ran up to her.
"I don't know. Lady Sophia saw something and requested that the carriage be stopped. As soon as it stopped, she vanished into the field. Mr. Darcy took off after her. And that was five minutes back."
"Julian, go see if you can help. There's a gap just a bit along. Coachman.." Audley stopped and watched in silence as Worth vanished into the next field. "Mrs. Darcy, would you care to join Judith in our carriage?" Audley escorted the two ladies back to their carriage, then turned to follow Worth into the field.
"It would appear we have been deserted Elizabeth. Not even Charles had the decency to remain."
"Which means that all we need now is for a bunch of footpads to arrive, and we will be totally at their mercy. How ungenerous of them, they could at least have invited us to accompany them." Suddenly Judith's eyes lit up.
"I say, Elizabeth..." Elizabeth cocked her head, a mischievous grin starting to form.
"That is certainly an idea. But we had better first ascertain whether the problem actually warranted our being deserted on the highroad." Judith nodded, then glanced out the window, and gasped.
"It appears that our desertion was warranted, they are carrying something. Lady Sophia is leading the horse." Elizabeth promptly jumped out of the carriage and ran over, closely followed by Judith.
Chapter 18
Darcy groaned silently when he realized what Lydia was drawing to his attention. The man lay in a crumpled heap, the horse was standing over him. It took them five minutes to persuade the horse to let them near the man, and Lydia was quickly into action. She carefully rolled him over, then frowned.
"Mr. Darcy, it's Lord Thomlin."
"What!" Darcy came and joined her. The man's face was a bloody and bruised mess, but even through it all, the high aristocratic features were clearly recognizable. "So it is. I wonder what he's doing out here in such informal attire."
"Check his saddle bags. It would appear that he has not been robbed."
"Hi!" Lydia turned to see Lord Worth running over.
"Lord Worth, what brings you here?"
"The annoying fact that your carriage is preventing passing."
"Sorry. Could you watch Lord Thomlin, I wish to have a look around."
"That Lord Thomlin? Okay, go have your look Lady Sophia." Lydia moved away, only to be disturbed seconds later by the arrival of Colonel Audley.
"Colonel Audley. Good afternoon. A few more and we will have a party."
"Only a soiree Lady Sophia. Are you looking for something in particular?"
"Only a means to find out how this occurred. Thomlin's Devil is not a horse to get into trouble easily."
"I have never met his horse, so I'll take your word for it." Silence fell again as they continued to look.
"Lady Sophia?" Lydia turned to see Audley staring intently at the trunk of a sturdy bush. She walked over.
"What is it?"
"This might supply your answer." Audley indicated a blazed and roughened section of the trunk. Lydia frowned at it, perplexed, until she realized.
"Of course! Thank you Colonel, I think you have the right answer." Lydia shifted carefully around the trunk till she had the cuts lined up with the horse. "Our answer will probably be found in the hedge." Lydia started to walk to the hedge, but was interrupted by Lord Worth.
"Lady Sophia! Charles! I really think we should get Thomlin to some medical attention. He is not well, and to be quite honest I'm surprised that he's alive." Lydia walked over and frowned.
"Leave Devil to me. Just get Thomlin into one of the carriages." Worth frowned, then nodded, and with the aid of Darcy and Audley, he lifted Thomlin and started to carry him out of the field. Lydia took a slight detour via the hedges then hurried after the small group, Lydia thanked her lucky stars that she had manage to persuade Devil to trust her during Thomlin's brief stay at Longbourn, otherwise she highly doubted that they would have been allowed near Thomlin. Lydia watched in silence as Elizabeth and Lady Worth took over the care of Lord Thomlin, then turned to see Audley standing nearby. Devil was pulling restlessly.
"Quiet Devil. I found the dirt deeply scarred and scuffed, there must have been three of them." Audley nodded, then turned to watch Darcy and Worth as they discussed the best way to deal with the problem.
"Why not all of you continue to the ball in Worth's carriage. Thomlin needs to return to London. Only Sophia can deal with Devil. So I accompany Sophia, Devil and Thomlin back to London. Lady Sophia is a widow, so propriety is not in question. Elizabeth can give our apologies, or Judith can, or perhaps both of them can." Worth and Darcy frowned, glanced at each other, then slowly nodded.
"Okay, that is the best arrangement. Take him to our place, Blackader will deal with the physician." Audley nodded, then turned to lend a hand in turning the Darcy carriage, and moving it out of the way. Lydia stood quietly, holding onto Devil, and watching as arrangements were made and executed.
"Oh Blast!" Lydia looked up in amazement, to see Darcy looking at his watch.
"What is it Darcy?"
"It appears that we'll almost be wasting our time to continue now." Worth glanced up at the sky which was starting to darken, then turned and looked at the group.
"It appears I'll have to agree. Brinkler, turn our carriage as well, we are returning immediately." Lydia gently rubbed Devil's cheek, then bent and inspected his forelegs.
"You poor Devil, that is indeed how they got you." Lydia rubbed the satiny cheek again, then turned and walked back into the field. When she returned the carriage turning process was almost complete. She quickly shoved her bag into the Darcy carriage, then hustled back and mounted Devil. "Softly does it." Lydia quickly calmed Devil down.
"Lady Sophia?" Lydia turned to see Darcy frowning.
"I'm riding Devil back, we won't be able to get him to leave otherwise."
"But why the attire?" Lydia bit back a giggle.
"Thomlin does not appear to believe in the conventional saddle. I have many accomplishments, but riding bareback in the side-saddle position is not among them." Darcy nodded, then rejoined Worth in the second carriage. Elizabeth and Lady Worth were occupying the first carriage with Thomlin. Lydia shifted, adjusting the tops of her riding boots, then urged Devil forward as the carriages moved off.
"Dashing breeches Lady Sophia. I take it you realize the risk you are running?" Lydia glanced at Audley who had ridden his bay over to ride beside her.
"Of course, it would absolutely destroy my reputation if I were seen and recognize by someone outside of this party."
"You know very well what I mean. Did you find the rope?"
"No, but Devil's forelegs are very roughed up." They completed the return trip, hardly uttering a word.
The physician, summoned by Blackader had very little of any use to say.
"Well to be honest and blunt with you, the man should be dead with a broken neck, he should also have a fractured skull, but he has neither. For present I'd say that he has no evident injuries, but his survival chances are very slim if he doesn't wake up in the next few hours."
"And if he does?"
"He's probably got a very rocky road to recovery, he appears to have spent an extended period of time in the elements. How'd this happen?"
"We don't know, we just found him."
"Okay. Send if he wakes, otherwise just keep him watched." Blackader showed the physician out, leaving the six conscious occupants of the room to look at each other.
"Mr. Darcy, take Lizzie home, I'll take first watch. Unless the Worths preferred I did not stay."
"Fine with us. Dig Charles out of bed if you require any aid."
"So kind of you Julian. But feel free Lady Sophia." Lydia nodded and sat down next to Thomlin, and watched as the others left the room.
"Charles will relieve you at six. You can borrow our spare room to sleep in." Lydia nodded, and watched the door close.
Colonel Audley frowned when he heard the soft knock on the door.
"Come in." The door opened and Lord Worth entered. "Oh, it's you Julian. Want anything in specific?"
"Only an honest answer to some questions." Audley tilted his head.
"Me be dishonest? Never! Where did you get that idea from Julian."
"Long association with you Charles. Now seriously, what is going on here?"
"I'm trying to go to bed. I want some sleep before six comes."
"Very nice." Worth's tone was dry. "What is the connection between you, Lady Sophia and Lord Thomlin?" Audley frowned.
"No connection that I'm aware of. In fact until tonight I had only met Lady Sophia once and that was only briefly. This is the first time I've met Lord Thomlin." Audley watched Worth warily, Worth frowned.
"Okay, I'll take the hint. You should have joined the intelligence yourself Charles."
"The pay is pretty lousy compared to the risks, and you get to display in a better light in the army." Worth shook his head, laughter lighting up his expression.
"You would say that. Sleep well." Audley watched his brother depart, and wondered what Julian's reaction would have been if he knew the truth about Thomlin, Audley didn't really want to think about it, so with a sigh he gave up and went to sleep.
Chapter 19
He lay silently, encased in total darkness, he felt safe. His thought pattern paused, why should he not feel safe, then continued as the dark slowly lessened. He was riding, at a slow walk through a beautiful forest, the trees were in autumn bloom, the air was laden with delightful smells. He was happy just to let his horse walk, drinking in the beauty of his surroundings. The light steadily brightened, but it was never painful, more intoxicating. And then the horse stopped, he hesitated momentarily, why had the horse stopped, and then he realized, he had to make his choice. Ahead, the forest, if anything, became brighter and more beautiful, behind him lay darkness, darkness and pain. There was no way he was going back there, besides, nobody wanted or needed him.
"James." The call was faint, barely audible. Was James his name, he rather felt so, but the call could not be for him, no one back there needed him. He turned once more, preparing to urge his horse forward.
"James." The call was slightly louder this time, but still barely audible, he frowned, and glanced back once more. No, the call could not be for him, laughter drew his attention once more to the view before him, a small group had walked out of the trees and into sight. He paused momentarily, why were they familiar? then he had it. It was his family, his mother and elder sister who had perished at the guillotine, was that tall laughing man his father?
"Wait for me!" He could hear his words echo, but the cheerful group did not appear to hear. He knew that they would welcome him gleefully.
"James!" The voice was getting louder, and clearer. Once more James turned his head and looked back, maybe that call was for him, but no, who back there needed him, he had no family, no friends. James turned once more preparing to go on.
"James!" The calls were increasing in frequency and intensity, and slowly he realized, the calls were for him. He had no choice but to return, it was his duty, while someone needed him back there, he could not go on. He took one last lingering look at the cheerful group then turned the horse and started the slow journey back to the darkness and the pain. The pain increased, tearing savagely into him, try as he might, he could get no further. The voice had only called once more after he had turned back, and he had not heard it since, but the pain would not let him return. He was trapped, trapped in the in between time, he couldn't go on, because someone needed him, and he could not go back, because the pain would not let him. Finally he returned to the point where he could only just tolerate the pain, and waited. After a bit, the pain lessened, and he could come a bit further back. The progress was agonizingly slow, but he could not give up.
Audley swore when his alarm jerked him awake. He had no wish to get out of bed and face the cold elements, but he had to. Quickly he rose and dressed, before hurrying to the small room which Thomlin was laid out. Lady Sophia was sitting quietly beside the bed, she did not appear to have moved in the eight hours she had been on watch.
"No changes?" She glanced up at his whisper.
"Not definite ones. He appeared to almost regain consciousness on one occasion, but he went under again." Audley nodded.
"The spare room is down the hall, two doors and on your right." Lydia nodded and stood up, straightening her gown before she departed. Audley looked down at the motionless figure.
"I wonder who the swine was who tried to nail you?" Audley cocked his head on one side as if waiting for an answer, but he did not expect to receive one. "Well I expect you'll reply in your own good time. Worth a quid, I'll bet the first noise you make is a groan." Audley sat down in the chair recently vacated by the Lady Sophia and picked up the book next to it. But then the title caused him to decide not to read it. 'Glenarvon' how could the ladies read the book, it was totally intolerable, and if the rumors circulating about it were true, it was even worse than intolerable. Audley discarded the book and resigned himself to a watch of unelevated tedium. It was a soft groan that woke Audley from his reverie, and turning he observed that Thomlin's eyes were open, admittedly they were hardly focussed, but they were open.
"Hallo, nice of you to wake up." Audley watched as an eye rolled around to look at him, the eye then blinked, focussed, and blinked again. The eye then returned to position one and closed again. Audley shook his head, then stepped to the door, looking out to see if anyone was awake. But nothing stirred, with a sigh he glanced at his watch, then back at Thomlin, then with a nod of his head he departed the room. Worth was standing in the doorway of his room when Audley appeared.
"Awake is he Charles?"
"He's woken, but he retreated back to sleep almost immediately. I was going to ask you to send for the Physician." Worth nodded and Audley turned and returned to Thomlin's room. Thomlin did not appear to have woken while he was gone, so Audley sat down and resumed his daydreams.
Elizabeth frowned slightly as they mounted the stairs to the Worth's house.
"I do hope he has woken."
"A blow to you if he has not. I expect he has however, he appeared to be a fairly resilient young man." Elizabeth nodded, then shivered as the butler ushered them into a small parlor.
"You are not very gallant today."
"I thought you had decided long since that had no gallantry at all." Elizabeth frowned, then stood up as Colonel Audley entered.
"He regained conscious about eight this morning. The Physician said fluids only, and Lady Sophia is dressing."
"A very typical remark from you Colonel. I do not understand how you rose to be a Colonel?"
"The same way as Fitzwilliam did, we smiled nicely and they gave us the necessary promotions."
"So that's how he did it. Remind me to tax him on the matter when we next see him Elizabeth. I take it that Lady Sophia is nearly ready to be returned home."
"Very ready." Elizabeth bit back a chuckle as Lydia swept into the room, looking like she had not just missed a night's sleep.
"Then we will depart. Tell Worth that Mrs. Darcy and I will return after we have returned Lady Sophia to her panic stricken landlady."
"Is she panic stricken again? Foolish woman." Audley chuckled as he conducted them out of the house, but his frown resettled as he returned upstairs. Sure enough, Thomlin was once more trying to sit up.
"Don't be a fool man. Are you trying to kill yourself?"
"No, just trying to sit up."
"Well stop it. You damn near broke your neck, do you actually want to break it?"
"Not at all, that would be a serious inconvenience. But I really must get back on my feet as quickly as possible."
"Then follow orders and stay in bed." Thomlin was already lying down again, a deep crease between his brows the only thing betraying how uncomfortable he was. "and let that be a lesson to you. Do you know who tried to bump you off?"
"No." The response was irritable. "I have yet to find out how I was nearly bumped off."
"Your horse was tripped."
"What happened to Devil?" The concern was written large in his voice.
"He is stabled in our stables so you may relax."
"How'd he get there?"
"Lady Sophia rode him. Her opinion of your tack is pretty low." Thomlin shrugged.
"But how, Devil lets no one near him?"
"Ask Lady Sophia when she next comes, she was the one who originally found you." Thomlin's frowned deepened, and Audley decided to turn him over to Judith.
Lydia sat silently through the ride back to the town house, and was thankful when Elizabeth let her retire without asking any questions. Lydia had too much on her mind already, she did not need to add one of Elizabeth's questionings to it. Elizabeth watched as Lydia walked tiredly up the stairs and vanished.
"I fear for her Fitzwilliam. I do not know what's going on, and I doubt I'd understand it, but Lydia is hurting." Darcy glanced briefly down at Elizabeth, then returned his gaze to the stairs.
"I'll agree with you, and since neither of us will understand I vote we keep our hands out of it." He took her arm and led her upstairs. "We will pay our visit to Worth's in an hour."