Chapter Seventeen #2
How could she respond to this? His insults still stung with fresh venom, and yet his concerns were not negligible.
He had expressed himself poorly, his words reflecting the pride and arrogance of the man she had met at the assembly, the man Wickham warned her about.
Or... she now considered... the man she had always expected him to be, regardless of his repeated demonstrations that her initial impression was the aberration.
His concerns were not for himself, but for another.
His poor phrasing and unhappy choice of words were an attempt to deflect responsibility for the scandal away from his sister, upon whom blame perhaps ought to fall, and onto himself.
It was not pride that spoke, but rather his feelings of failure, and at last she understood that he did not think only of himself, but of his poor sister whom he loved and whose own treatment of him was a source of distress.
How much there was to consider, and how much her mind roiled. “I cannot reply to you at this moment, sir, for my mind is very much disturbed by all I have heard this evening.”
“But will you consider me at all? Do I have any hope?” Such longing pain was written on his handsome face that it was all she could do not to enfold him in her arms and offer comfort.
“I need time,” she managed at last. “I—”
Before she could speak further, the door to the library swung open and Colonel Fitzwilliam strode into the room.
“I say, Darcy, whatever have you been about? If I had not followed you earlier, I might never have found you at all!”
Lizzy leapt to her feet. What would the colonel think?
He seemed a good enough sort and not the type of man to seek to destroy others, but she had met him only this evening and truly knew him not at all.
Thank heavens Mr. Darcy had returned to his chair and was not still on his knees at her feet; likewise she thanked the heavens that she had not succumbed to her instincts and enfolded him into an embrace.
It was compromising enough that they be found alone in this library; to be discovered in any situation other than talking in separate chairs on either side of a small carpet would be an embarrassment not even the most generous-minded of gentlemen could ignore.
As it was, the colonel merely raised a single brow and cast a questioning glance at his cousin before asking, “May I join you?”
Lizzy struggled to find her voice. “Er, yes, of course, Colonel. We would be honoured.” She began to walk towards the desk to retrieve the chair there, but the colonel stayed her with a hand and completed the task.
“Please, Miss Elizabeth,” he gestured to her own chair, and she seated herself with as much decorum as she could manage.
With another questioning glance, Colonel Fitzwilliam began with some minor matters of small talk—how much he had enjoyed the meal, what a lovely coincidence to find his friend Hastings in attendance, how charming he had found the neighbourhood—before embarking upon the subject he had clearly had on his mind when entering the room.
“My cousin informs me that you have been able to examine the code machine to some extent.”
Her head snapped up and her eyes met Mr. Darcy’s.
He gave a quiet nod; the colonel was aware of their adventures.
She felt a flush steal across her face at the thought of this stranger having such knowledge about the unchaperoned hours she had spent in his cousin’s company, but if Mr. Darcy trusted him, she would as well. It appeared she had little choice.
“Yes indeed, sir.” To her relief her voice was steady. “Whilst Mr. Darcy was examining the discs with their jumble of letters and executing his drawings of the device, I was attempting to discern how it works.”
“I took a look at those sketches, Darce,” the colonel turned to his cousin, “and they are remarkably detailed for something done so quickly. Will you have time to return to wherever the machine is and do a more comprehensive set?”
This was interesting! It seemed that whilst Mr. Darcy had informed the colonel of the existence of the code machine and had told him that she was involved in the examination thereof, he had not divulged the exact whereabouts of the device.
How amazed the colonel would be to learn that it sat in this very house, almost exactly above his head, two storeys up!
Mr. Darcy spoke. “I cannot say. Whatever time I have to spend drawing the workings of the machine depends entirely upon the others not being present, and I am not privy to their plans. We might be able to ascertain if the room is empty at any given time, but the men can return without warning. It would not do to be caught.”
The colonel stroked his chin. “Hmmm, so I see. ‘Tis a pity you have no sentry to alert you to their return, nor a warning system. In my time in the field, we learned of the value of supposed bird calls.”
His cousin nodded. “Just so. An army of trained birds would be greatly to my benefit.” He lapsed into silence.
“I cannot offer an army of birds,” Lizzy opined, “but perhaps some sort of warning system is possible. If the location of the machine,” she continued his ruse by not naming the location of the device, “is set up for a modern system of bell cords, could not such a device be used in the reverse, to sound a note when pulled from the other end?”
Both men stared at her with approving smiles, and she continued. “If sufficient distance exists between the entryway to the building and the room in question, and if we could attach the end of such a cord to the doorway, a warning bell would provide enough time to escape or hide.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam chuckled. “I reiterate my earlier observation, Darce. She is an excellent choice indeed. Well done, Miss Bennet. I shall leave the details to you, for I do not know the plan of the building of which you speak. If I can assist with the provision of your cord and bell, do ask and I shall do what I can to oblige. Now, as to the code itself...”
With careful words, Lizzy explained what she had been able to determine about the use of the machine itself, and Darcy explained the nature of the discs.
“It is my considered belief that the machine is not an English device at all, but a French one. My initial purpose here was to investigate this machine to ascertain how much the French had been able to learn about England’s system of intelligence; however, I now believe that somebody has poor information.
The code wheel has no letter W, making it useless for the English language. ”
“Fascinating,” the colonel murmured. “What, exactly, were you told upon beginning this little investigation? I would hear what information you were given.” Lizzy was surprised at this question.
She had imagined that Mr. Darcy would already have divulged all, and yet it seemed the colonel was only learning much of this now.
Mr. Darcy seemed to understand her confusion, for he leaned towards her and explained, “Richard arrived only this morning, and we have had little time to discuss anything but the most rudimentary of details, such were Miss Bingley’s plans for our entertainment.
I dared not commit a word to paper, lest a letter be intercepted.
Richard knew only enough to wish to talk to me in person. ”
“Oh, I see.” How much mystery and secrecy was there surrounding these strange events in the Bennet house? “Are you involved in affairs of intelligence, Colonel?”
The officer gave a non-committal and rather Gallic gesture with his shoulders. “It does, at times, pertain to my duties.” He pursed his lips and continued his interrogation of his cousin.
“Tell me what you were told, Darcy. It might be important.”
Elizabeth sat at attention, ready to hearken to each word. She had, until now, taken Mr. Darcy’s story with utter faith, never questioning either the man or the tale he told. But it seemed that the colonel was suspicious of something, and she was most anxious to discover what that might be.
“You know, of course, about the attack,” Mr. Darcy began.
His hand absently rubbed at his leg as he spoke.
“As I began to recover and Lord Stanton learned of my abilities with a pencil and my general understanding of matters mechanical—although mine do not approach those of Miss Elizabeth—he came to me with a proposal.” He kept his eyes far from Elizabeth’s, and her face burned at the recollection of his own proposal just minutes before.
“Stanton told me that he was connected with the Home Office, and that they had reports of French spies in this part of Hertfordshire, as well as reports that the man most intimately involved in abetting them was Thomas Bennet, Miss Elizabeth’s father.
” He dropped his voice to a whisper and added, “I am sorry, Lizzy.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to re-envision the conversation as it occurred.
After a minute, he continued, “He told me that there were rumours of a code machine that had fallen into French hands, one which had sustained some damage, about which those for whom he worked would like very much to learn more. He did not wish me to retrieve the machine itself, for fear of alerting the French that their plans had been discovered; rather, he wished me only to draw the device as carefully and precisely as I could manage, so they might discover how much the enemy knew.”
The colonel had been sitting very still as Mr. Darcy recounted the events.
“Did he provide any other details? It seems odd that the people for whom he works were unaware that these Frenchmen were in reality working on behalf of England. Is he really working for the Home Office, or for some other branch that knows less that it might? This is an interesting question. But do continue, cousin.”
This Darcy did. “Stanton mentioned rumours, reports, nothing substantiated. I had the notion that he wished to investigate the veracity of them, but could not appear here himself for fear of being recognised. It was, therefore, a remarkable coincidence that Bingley had just taken Netherfield, only three miles distant, and wished me to help him with estate management. It seemed an ideal place to recover from my injuries, where I might investigate with little suspicion as to my purpose here.”
“Why did Mr. Bingley take Netherfield?” This was the question which suddenly occurred to Lizzy, and she voiced it, to the surprise of the men.
Mr. Darcy cocked his head. “I... I cannot say for certain,” he intoned slowly.
“He had been talking for some time about leasing an estate before settling on one to purchase, but all of his musings had been very much in the abstract, considering the general notion rather than weighing two or three specific locations, until the day he came to call and told me that he had taken Netherfield. Bingley does tend to act very much on impulse, and so the decision was not out of character for him, but I recall my surprise at never having so much as heard the name of the place before.”
“I need you to ask him, Darce, without raising any suspicions.” The colonel’s eyes were flinty. “Allow the subject to arise in casual conversation, when he is most likely to divulge everything without alarm. Can I rely on you for that?”
“Of course, but... You cannot suspect Bingley?”
“I dare not acquit anybody until I have found the truth of the matter.”
Elizabeth looked at him in alarm. He must include her and her father in this statement. He saw her face and bowed his head. “I am sorry, madam. Please understand that I speak from duty and not personal motivations.”
“Yes, yes, of course, Colonel,” she muttered, but she felt stunned nonetheless.
Colonel Fitzwilliam returned his gaze to his cousin. “Stanton gave you no other names, no indications of where he received word of these rumours?”
“Not that I recall. The rumours themselves seemed substantiated by a great many things, from the unexpected wealth of the town, indicating a recent influx of money, to the presence of the Gipsy encampment, which I thought might somehow be connected with the Frenchmen, to the eventual discovery of the machine itself. I am a gentleman farmer, and not a spy. I have no head for espionage. Not once did I think to question anything about Stanton’s request, for it all seemed based on logic and fact. ”
“Yes, so it does.” The colonel rose and walked the perimeter of the room, back and forth, past the space in the wall by the window, which Mr. Darcy had told her held the secret door to the gardens. She dared not say a word, dared not look to her accomplice in this conspiracy of silence.
When next he spoke, it was of a different subject. “As for the code itself? Have you been able to ascertain what it might be?”
Mr. Darcy shrugged. “Without a piece of text to decypher using the wheel and the machine, it is impossible to know.” He looked directly at his cousin. “Do you happen to have something on which we can test this machine?”
There was another long stretch of silence, during which Elizabeth felt herself scoured and judged, the colonel’s eyes roving across her face with not a trace of the hail-fellow-well-met bonhomie he had exhibited to the guests at dinner.
In his place was a serious soldier, a man who trusted no one, but who was relentlessly trustworthy himself.
Not for the first time, Elizabeth wondered just how highly placed he was within the unspoken ranks of the Home Office. He would be a formidable foe.
When he spoke at last, his voice was barely a whisper and edged with steel.
“There is... a document that we have in our possession. I cannot tell you who sent or how it fell into our hands. Our experts have been unable to break the code, and we now believe this device you have found might be the key.”
“But the device is damaged,” Lizzy exclaimed. “Without all of the buttons and levers in working order, we cannot apply the machine to the task.”
“Then we must hasten to arrange this visit to London,” Mr. Darcy stated. In a few words, he told his cousin about the Gardiners’ friend who created miniature mechanical marvels. “How dire is the need for this document to be decyphered, Richard?”
“We believe it pertains to a future campaign, possibly involving the participation of treasonous parties already in England.
They are biding their time, and, if we are correct, the events will not occur next week, or even next month, maybe not next year, but the sooner we have the message in plain language, the better we will all be prepared.
“Then we had best get to work,” he looked at both his cousin and Elizabeth. “All of us.”