Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
MONDAY, 13 JANUARY 1812
D arcy and Fitzwilliam left Pemberley Monday morning to travel to Matlock. They left early, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon, to make the most of their time, and with luck, Darcy thought, he could make the return trip before the day was out. Of course, he attached a valise with a change of clothing to his saddle in case he needed it, but he hoped it would be unnecessary.
They arrived at Matlock before noon and sought out the housekeeper. She informed them that the viscount had stayed at the estate for a few days after Epiphany but had not been seen since. His valet remained in residence, as the viscount had left abruptly without informing anyone of his plans or taking any servants with him.
This information raised several additional questions. Viscount Ashburn, was not the sort of man to travel without an entourage for he was far from self-sufficient. On rare occasions, he might journey without a valet, but only if the trip was brief and did not require an overnight stay—especially when another servant would be available to ensure his appearance remained impeccable.
Colonel Fitzwilliam immediately insisted that the valet be summoned for further questioning. That man arrived, wringing his hands, since he had served the viscount for many years and the two were quite close, or as close as a servant and a member of the peerage might be. When his master disappeared without a word, he had worried, but since the viscount had been most specific in his instructions that no one was to know where he was, he had not felt he could contact anyone.
With further questioning, the valet revealed the plan had been for Ashburn to travel accompanied by his valet, several footmen, and other servants to a cottage in Scotland rented under a false name where he could hide for several months. The men to whom Ashburn owed money had become increasingly persistent of late, and with his father’s advice, he had sought to leave London until Lord Matlock could raise the necessary funds to pay them off.
All had gone awry when Ashburn disappeared from Matlock a little more than a se’nnight ago. His valet, too frightened by the situation to send word to anyone, had failed to raise an alarm. As a result, no search had been conducted, and no one knew whether Ashburn had vanished of his own volition or been taken against his will.
After extracting all they could from the valet, Fitzwilliam and Darcy retired to the study to discuss their next steps.
“Do you believe he left of his own accord?” Darcy asked, his tone sceptical as he poured them both a glass of port. “I find it difficult to imagine Ashburn enduring the hardships of life on the run… or even on his own with a servant or two to accompany him.”
Fitzwilliam took his own glass and leant against the mantel. “I do not discount the possibility, though I agree it seems far-fetched. Ashburn is hardly the type to fend for himself. He could not even pack his own bags, let alone secure funds or arrange a successful escape without assistance. I can scarcely imagine him lasting very long without his servants to assist him.”
“Yet the valet insists no one accompanied him,” Darcy mused. “It seems more likely he has been taken by the men he owes—or by someone they hired.”
“Perhaps,” Fitzwilliam said, frowning. “But if that were the case, why not send word to demand a ransom? These men care about recovering their money, and a ransom could be lucrative. Although they must know that Father has nothing to give as well, but still, it seems unlikely they would just abscond with him.”
Darcy nodded thoughtfully. “That does raise questions. However, if Ashburn’s debts are as extensive as you suggest, they might view him as more valuable alive than dead, especially if they think they can pressure him to make good on his obligations through other means.”
“How would he achieve that without funds?” Fitzwilliam countered, setting his glass down. “Father indicated he had sold nearly everything of value at his estate, and I doubt my mother would leave her jewellery accessible to him here, knowing his tendencies.”
Darcy’s brow furrowed. “Is there any chance he still intended to travel north as his valet said they had planned? If so, why abandon his servants and valet? It does not add up.”
“That is what I intend to discover,” Fitzwilliam replied. “The valet said they spoke of Scotland often enough before he left. I will follow the trail northward to the place that they arranged for him to stay and see if he reached his original destination. It is a slim chance, but one I cannot ignore. If he is not there, then I will return and see what I can discover.”
Darcy sighed, setting his empty glass on the desk. “I will return to Pemberley and write to my investigator. Perhaps he can uncover whether the men Ashburn owes are still in London or have gone elsewhere. If they have departed, it might give us some clue as to Ashburn’s fate.”
Fitzwilliam nodded. “A wise course. Between your investigator and my journey north, we might yet uncover the truth.”
After partaking in a light meal, the two men prepared to depart—Darcy to Pemberley and Fitzwilliam further north. Darcy watched his cousin mount his horse with a determined expression.
“Take care, Richard,” Darcy said, his voice steady. “If you find anything, send word immediately.”
“You do the same,” Fitzwilliam replied. “This will not be an easy search, but we will leave no stone unturned.”
With that, they intended to part ways. While neither man was close to Ashburn, they were tied by blood, and neither wished for anything untoward to happen to him. Briefly Fitzwilliam wondered how his life might change if his brother were no longer among the living, but he brushed that thought aside, not even wanting to imagine how his brother’s death might result in anything positive.
For a short time, the two men rode together. Just as they were about to separate, Darcy reined in his horse abruptly.
“Halt, Richard. I believe Theseus has thrown a shoe,” Darcy called. “Wait a moment.”
Fitzwilliam drew his horse to a stop, turning it and going back to his cousin. He dismounted and watched as Darcy examined his horse’s hoof, which had, indeed thrown a shoe. Fortunately, however, there was no damage to the hoof, and they had just passed through a village a short time ago.
“Did you notice if there was a blacksmith there?” Darcy asked. “I am certain I have ridden through often enough, but I cannot recall.”
Fitzwilliam indicated he believed there was, so he dismounted and walked with his cousin the mile back to the town. Soon Darcy was negotiating with the blacksmith to have Theseus properly shod while Fitzwilliam looked around.
Deciding to investigate while he was there, Fitzwilliam approached the stable boy who had popped his head out of the livery next door. "Hullo, lad," he called, "have you seen anything unusual around here lately?"
The young man shook his head, eyeing the gentleman before him carefully. “Need a hand, sir? I can take yer horse for ye, give ‘im a bit o’ water. Aye, he’s a real beauty, ‘e is. Don’t see ones like ‘im round ‘ere often.”
Fitzwilliam watched the boy for a minute before responding. “Yes, he could use some water,” he said slowly. “This is a rather small village, I am surprised to find both a blacksmith shop and a livery. Do you get many travellers through here?”
This seemed to have been the right question because it evoked a much more effusive response. “Aye, sir, we often see carriages an’ the like passin’ through to Matlock—grand place it is, belongin’ to the Earl hisself, though he don’t often stop by ‘ere. Only a few days past, his son come ridin’ through wi’ a party o’ men. Not a face I’d seen afore, an’ he looked none too steady in the saddle, if I may say so. Likely not used to it—guess a gentleman o’ his sort has little call for ridin’ when he’s got carriages for that. But you, sir, you sit a horse well enough, an’ yours is a fine one—finer than most that pass this way.”
“What kind of horse was the earl’s son riding? What of the men who were with him?” Fitzwilliam pressed, trying not to seem too anxious.
The lad scratched his head thoughtfully, clearly eager to be helpful. “Well, sir, the earl’s son was on a big bay—fine-lookin’ beast. He didn’t seem to know how to handle it proper-like. Kept pullin’ the reins too tight, poor creature. As for the men wi’ him, there were four, I reckon. Not much to say about their horses—sturdy sorts, good for the road, but nothin’ special. The men themselves… well, they weren’t locals, that’s for sure. Looked rough, if you don’t mind me sayin’ so, sir, like they’d seen their share of trouble. But they was quiet enough when they passed through, just had a word or two wi’ old Tom at the inn for directions afore ridin’ on.”
He paused, then added, “Seemed like they was in a hurry, though—not the kind of lot to stop an’ linger.”
Fitzwilliam nodded. “Do you know which direction they were headed in, lad? Towards Matlock or away from it?”
“They was headin’ north, sir, towards Scotland, by what I ‘eard. One o’ the men said summat about a cottage up there. The earl’s son, though—he didn’t look too pleased ‘bout it, not one bit. The others, they just laughed, like they was enjoyin’ his mis’ry. One of ‘em made a crack ‘bout the toff bein’ in no state to ride once they got there. Sounded right cruel, if y’ask me,” the boy said.
“Thank you, lad,” Fitzwilliam said, offering a nod of gratitude. Though he attempted to ask a few more questions, he refrained from pressing too hard. After gathering as much information as the boy could provide, he handed him a coin for his trouble and hurried towards Darcy, who was just finishing his conversation with the blacksmith.
“Do they have another horse you can borrow, Darcy? Or will your horse be ready soon? I am ready to be on my way,” Fitzwilliam said.
“My horse will be ready to ride within the hour. What is the matter, Richard?” Darcy asked as he studied the expression on his cousin’s face.
Fitzwilliam lowered his voice as he motioned for Darcy to walk with him and the two men moved a further away. “Andrew passed through here a few days ago with some rough-looking men,” he said, gesturing at the lad standing near his horse. “From what the boy overheard, they are heading to a cottage in Scotland—I would expect they would head to the one leased to keep him safe. However, their intentions appear far from protective. It seems they plan to harm him, perhaps even leave him for dead, after extracting whatever they want from him. They know they cannot get the money he owes, so it appears they aim to make an example of him. Though why they have chosen Scotland for this purpose, I cannot yet say.”
“Will you make your way to Scotland then?” Darcy asked, taking several moments to examine his cousin carefully. “Let me send a note to Pemberley, and I will join you. You do not need to do this on your own.”
“There are some people I can contact who are on my way; men I knew in the army and who have since retired,” Fitzwilliam explained. “I know you would prefer to return to your wife.”
“While there is no doubt that I would rather be with my wife, I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to face what is likely a dangerous situation alone,” Darcy said, raising his hand to stop his cousin from speaking. “I know you are a colonel in His Majesty’s Army and have encountered countless situations like this one. But even then, you would have had others with you—men who could support you and help if the situation required it.”
“I will not refuse your company, Cousin. I will still try to contact a few of the men along our way who might be able to join us. Perhaps others on our route may have seen those we seek, and the lad was able to provide a fairly good description of the men with Andrew. If I know my brother, he will be reluctant to spend days in the saddle, and I am uncertain how long those men will tolerate his complaints,” Richard replied.
Darcy nodded his agreement. “You might be correct, Richard. Come, let us go to the inn so I can send Elizabeth a note letting her know I will be delayed. Then, I will accompany you north, at least until you have found others who are better equipped to help you on what might turn out to be a rescue mission. You will need to take care, for the men who have him might decide to use you to encourage your father to find a way to pay what is owed.”
“I will be cautious, Darcy,” Fitzwilliam assured him. “I have planned many an ambush while on the peninsula. I dare say I am more prepared to do battle than some hired thugs for the owners of a gambling den in Dartford.”
“That might be true, Richard, but you have been trained to fight honourably. I do not believe that will be true of these men,” Darcy objected.
“Soldiers might be trained to fight honourably, Darcy, but they know to ignore their training when death is on the line. I will be well, but I know better than to risk myself unnecessarily. You worry like an old woman, Cousin,” Fitzwilliam teased.
Darcy shook his head. “I have always worried about you, Richard. You know I have long viewed you nearly as a brother, and I worry for you each time you leave England for some far-flung battlefield. This is no different than that, except now I know a little more of what you are facing. I urge you to be careful.”
Fitzwilliam clapped Darcy on the shoulder, his grin fading slightly as he regarded his cousin. “I truly appreciate your concern. You have always been the steady one, keeping me grounded when I might have rushed headlong into trouble. I give you my word—I will not take unnecessary risks. But I must act quickly if Andrew is in danger. You would do the same if it were me or Georgiana, or now, Elizabeth.”
Darcy inclined his head, acknowledging the truth of Fitzwilliam’s words. “You are correct; I could do no less. However, you must keep in mind that these men are likely desperate. Desperation makes them unpredictable, and unpredictability makes them dangerous.”
“I know,” Fitzwilliam replied firmly. “Which is why I will not go alone for long. Once we reach the next sizable town, I will gather men willing to assist. Scotland is vast, and I will need all the help I can muster to locate Andrew in time.”
Darcy frowned but nodded. “Good. I will write to my investigator as soon as we stop at the inn. It is possible he will uncover something to aid you further.” He hesitated, then added, “I shall ensure that Elizabeth understands the reason for my delay. She will worry, as I do.”
“As will my mother,” Fitzwilliam said grimly. “I dread the lecture I will receive when she learns of all this.”
“Lady Julia has a right to be concerned,” Darcy countered. “Andrew might have his flaws, but he is still her son—and your brother. She deserves to know he is in jeopardy.”
Fitzwilliam sighed heavily. “You are right, of course. I will write to her as soon as I can; however, I doubt she will find much comfort in knowing the full truth. For now, let us make haste. The sooner we begin, the sooner we can put an end to this.”
Darcy nodded. “Agreed. Let us secure what we need and set off without delay.”