Unforgiving Temper (34 page)

“Very well, I see your point, Darcy; but do
you really think your man can succeed?”

“Denham is uncommonly skilled when it comes
to things like this. I will speak to him right away.” Darcy crossed
the room quickly, only pausing at the door long enough to entreat
his friend. “Pray for his success, Bingley. We are running out of
time.”

* * * *

“Here we are, sir,” Denham looked to the
small, thatched cottage standing in the shade of two ancient elms.
“Shall I accompany you? The woman is quite disagreeable and not to
be trusted.”

“That much is evident. To eavesdrop on your
conversation with Mrs. Pennwyth was bad enough; but the fact that
she afterwards sought you out with an offer to sell the letters
does not speak well of her at all - especially when her own sister
had already sworn the letters did not exist.”

“Indeed, sir. She's a foul, grasping
creature. That she would betray her own sister's trust for a few
coins is quite contemptible.”

“Very true, Denham; but Mattie Wilkins'
petty, grasping nature does have its advantages.” Darcy's lips
formed a thin line as he contemplated the impending visit. “I
expect we should be thankful for small gifts, no matter how
unappealing the wrapping.”

“I wouldn't put it past her to try some kind
of trick, sir. Perhaps I should go before you, just in case.”

“I think not,” Darcy appraised the cottage
carefully. “We have already wasted two precious days with the
unbending Mrs. Pennwyth and two more arranging for this meeting. I
will not wait another minute. Just stay here and keep watch, I
should not be long.”

“Very good, sir.” Denham replied, stilling
his horse as Darcy took a basket of food from him and urged his own
horse forward.

Shifting the hamper to rest on his leg, Darcy
approached the cottage. The small assortment of food was more for
the benefit of any curious eyes that might observe his visit rather
than a desire to assist the two widows. The behavior of both
sisters had driven Darcy to distraction; but he was taking great
pains to make this visit appear to be a charitable one. To engender
any more gossip relating to Elizabeth or her family would be
disastrous; something he wanted desperately to avoid.

When he knocked at the door, it was opened
almost immediately by a short, thin woman whose face did indeed
match what he had imagined that day he heard her talking on the
road from Meryton. Although he had never actually met the woman
before now, her shrewd, assessing expression told him Denham had
been right – she was not to be trusted.

“Matilda Wilkins?”

“Mr. Darcy,” she stated
matter-of-factly. “You'd better come in.”

The woman's size and sprightly step belied
the age in her face as she led him into the tiny sitting room.
Gesturing for Darcy to take the only comfortable chair in the room,
she perched herself on a small wooden chair opposite him, a slight
apprehension about her.

“I thought you were coming sooner. I don't
have much time before my sister gets back.”

“This should not take long. You know the
reason for my coming.” Darcy held the basket out to her. “I also
brought a few things for you and your sister as a token of my
goodwill.”

“Mighty kind of you, I'm sure,” Mattie
sniffed, taking the basket from him without looking in it. “But I
am interested in more than a hamper of victuals.”

“Yes, I am sure you are; and since you are
obviously anxious to begin, I shall get right to the point. You
have some letters I want. What is your price?”

“Aha, I knew it!” her eyes gleamed with
pleasure. “A right proper man of business. Yes, Mr. Darcy,
letters have come to Granley Cottage. Letters that would put the
last nail in the coffin of the Bennet family, to be sure.”

“Your price, Miss Wilkins,” Darcy reminded
her.

“Well, now. What would it be worth, do ye
think?”

“I will give you ten pounds.”

“Oh, no!” she laughed disdainfully. “I have
it on good account that you are worth more than ten thousand a
year! I don't know what your part is in this business – and I don't
care – but the letters seem mighty important to you. Two hundred
pound.”

“Ridiculous! What would you do with that sum
of money?”

“I'm a poor spinster, Mr. Darcy; cheated
in life and now forced to share my sister's pension, poor as it is.
If the Bennets are ruined, it isn't likely the new master of
Longbourn would let us stay. We have to look to our future. I'll
take a hundred and fifty pound.”

“Your situation is unfortunate, indeed.
However, Mr. Bennet's health is still uncertain. If he fails
to recover, the pension would still be lost and the letters would
then be worthless to you. I will give you thirty pounds.”

“Thirty pound? I'll not betray the trust for
thirty pound, no sir! I'm no Judas. It'll be a
hundred
and
thirty or nothing,” she countered with the skill of a practiced
negotiator.

As distasteful as the woman was, Darcy
thought of Mrs. Pennwyth and what would happen to her should things
turn out badly. He gave the sister a hard look. “One hundred pounds
and not a penny more. Take it or leave it.”

Mattie studied Darcy's stony face, trying to
discern if he actually meant it or not. She wanted to press for
more, but a hundred pounds was more than she had ever seen at one
time and she wasn't willing to risk losing it.

“I'll take it,” she declared at last, holding
out her hand. “And it's a bargain for you, to be sure.”

Darcy sat unmoving. “The letters first, if
you please.”

Delighted with her good fortune, Mattie rose
and went to the small side table where she had seen her sister put
the mysterious letters. Opening the drawer, her look of triumph
faded into one of utter horror. Pulling the drawer out completely,
she stared dumbstruck at the emptiness.

“They're gone!” she gasped. “I don't
understand; they were here day before yesterday.”

“Gone!?” Darcy jumped to his feet, echoing
her dismay. “What do you mean 'gone'?”

“She couldn't have known about you comin'. I
made sure. I don't understand what happened to them.”

“Are you telling me you do not have the
letters?”

“I'm saying they're gone – vanished! My
sister must have guessed. I don't know. All I know is they're not
here anymore.”

Darcy paced the tiny room, looking for a way
to salvage the situation. The letters were gone, but perhaps he
could still glean some information from this woman.

“Did you actually see the letters?” he asked.
“Or did you only know of their existence?”

“I saw the letters!” she spat. “Two of them
at least, and I know there were more. Peggy's been putting them in
this drawer for weeks. The last one came just a few days ago when
Peggy was out and I put it in the drawer myself.”

“What did it say? Were there any markings on
the letter?”

“I don't know what it said – I never learnt
to read. I can sign my name and I know my sums, but I can't read,”
she admitted grudgingly.

“How would you know what the letters were
then?”

“Oh, I know because Peg told me not to be
talkin' about 'em. They were addressed to Mr. Bennet and they
were written in a lady's hand. T'was no mistakin' it.”

“What about the directions?” Darcy pressed.
“Was there a post mark or anything out of the ordinary?”

“Could be. Depends on what you're looking
for.”

“I am still willing to pay something – if you
have any information of value,” he prompted in a persuasive
tone.

Mattie thought hard for a minute before
answering. “Well, there was a lot writing on the front of it. I
can't tell you anything about that; but I can tell you there were
some numbers stamped in red. I recognized them.”

“Numbers, you say,” Darcy asked hopefully.
“Can you remember what they were?”

“Oh, yes. I remember quite clearly. I'm good
at numbers, you know,” she straightened with some pride. “They were
three, three, one; plain as day.”

“Three, three, one. You are sure, quite
sure?”

“I said I was good at numbers, didn't I?” she
sniffed. “Now what about my money?”

“Yes, yes – you shall have it; but first, was
there anything else? Anything at all that you have not already
mentioned? The seal perhaps or any other markings?”

“No, nothing at all. There was a seal, but it
was just a lump of wax with no markings on it,” she said flatly and
held her hand out again.

“Very well then,” Darcy said as he placed a
handful of Guineas into her palm. “A letter would have been better,
but the information is of some use. Ten pounds is a fair
price.”

“I suppose it'll do for now. What if I find
the letters?”

“If you recover the letters, send word to me
by way of Netherfield Park that you found the missing items – do
not say exactly what they are -- and our original agreement shall
stand. I believe our business is finished for now. You will excuse
me, I must be going.”

It was barely quarter of an hour from the
time Darcy had left Denham waiting down the lane from Granley
Cottage until he rejoined the valet. His expression revealed
nothing of the thoughts racing through his mind.

“Mr. Darcy, was the visit
satisfactory?”

“Yes, Denham, I believe it was,” Darcy
answered purposefully. “When we get to Netherfield, please begin
preparations for our immediate departure. We shall leave first
thing in the morning.”

“Are we returning to London, sir?”

“Only temporarily. We are taking
Miss Darcy to London – and then you and I have a very long
journey ahead of us.”

* * * *

“Darcy, what good luck! I have just seen
Denham and heard we are leaving for London in the morning,”
Bingley's excitement was evident as he walked into Netherfield's
library, riding crop and hat still in hand. “I shall instruct
Thomas right away to be ready by first light!”

Darcy did not look up from the map he was
studying. “I am sorry, Bingley, but
we
are not going; I am
going alone.”

“Not going?! Oh, no, my friend, you are very
much mistaken. I will not sit on my thumbs while you dash off to
get Miss Elizabeth. I made a promise to Jane – and I will keep
it.”

Darcy slowly set down the compass and pencil
he had been using on the map and gave a low sigh. He had already
anticipated Charles' resistance to his new plan.

“To begin with, I am not 'dashing off to get
Miss Elizabeth.' I am going to search for her.”

“But you have been to Granley Cottage -- and
Denham said you were leaving. I thought you had seen the
letters.”

“No, I did not. Evidently, Mrs. Pennwyth
suspected something and hid them away. I should have guessed after
dealing with her for two days. She is obstinately loyal to
Mr. Bennet, even after I suggested the letters would help
clear the scandal the Bennets are facing. She would not be
moved.”

“I do not understand then,” Bingley blinked
with confusion. “If you did not see the letters, why are you
leaving?”

“The Wilkins woman had seen the last one
arrive two days ago. She could not tell me much, but it was enough
to lay a new course.” Darcy looked again to the sheet of geography
spread out before him and announced, “The letter had a mileage
stamp of three, three, one.”

“That is over three hundred miles!” Bingley
gave a low whistle as he joined Darcy at the map. “That would put
her somewhere in the north; an enormous task; but if we split up,
we could cover more ground in a shorter period.”

“No, you should stay at Netherfield. If the
letters are found or if Miss Bennet…”

Bingley straightened and faced his friend
squarely, ignoring Darcy's determined manner.

“Jane would expect me to join in the search.
It is difficult enough to maintain her good opinion as it is. If I
were to stay at Netherfield, for whatever reason, she would think
me lacking. I cannot stay behind.”

As they stood locked in a silent battle of
wills, Darcy realized the truth of Bingley's argument.

“You are right, of course. Were the situation
reversed, if it were Miss Elizabeth suffering the shame of a
younger sister's scandalous disappearance, nothing would keep me
from doing all I could to ease her pain, rescue her sister, and
restore the family's reputation. We are in this together, and it is
plain that more area will be covered in less time if we both
go.”

“I am glad you are being reasonable,” Bingley
agreed, happy to see he would not have to push the issue any
further. “Now, where shall we begin?”

“The first obstacle, as I see it, will be in
finding a reliable method of exchanging information.”

Darcy turned a thoughtful eye to the map and
gazed at the immense area they needed to cover as Bingley tapped
the tabletop, both lost in his own thoughts of the daunting task
ahead of them.

“I have it!” cried Darcy at last. “Once
Georgiana is safely settled in London, we shall make our way to
Leeds,” he tapped the map with his finger. “That will be where we
part ways and where we will set up our base. I shall post a man
there to relay our letters. We can notify him of our location and
where we are going to be. If something important develops, an
express can be relayed in a matter of hours.”

“Perfect, Darcy! And do you have a plan for
the search?”

“I have drawn an arc measuring three hundred
thirty miles to the north of London, but allowing for the
inaccuracies of the postal miles, I think it would be safe to begin
the search from Leeds. The search area is basically northeast and
northwest, there is nothing to speak of in between. I will go east,
through York, and work my way up the east coast. You will go west,
to Levens or Kendal and work your way up the west coast. It is not
certain how long it will take to – ”