Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
The underground chamber was larger than she had expected, with ample space for two beds along one wall, a large table in the centre, and a small sitting area to one side, along which a fireplace housed a glowing fire.
The floor—surely cold stone—was covered by thick carpets and the walls were panelled in wood and curtains, which must help to moderate the chill.
It was, for all that it was a subterranean lair, a warm and welcoming space.
“Where are we?” her whisper sounded like a shout to her ears.
Papa smiled. “In the woods, between Longbourn and the stream.”
“But there is no cottage or hut there.” This was most perplexing.
“Indeed there is not, but there are other tunnels.” He gestured to a space along the wall past the glowing fireplace where another door faded into the shadows.
“This one leads to the hunting cottage just off the trail to Netherfield. The tunnels meet at right angles here. No one expects a hidden lair so far from where men take their shelter. And yes, before you ask, we are quite far underground. The chimney,” he gestured to the cheerful flames flickering in the hearth, “vents through the trunk of an old dead tree. I do not know exactly which ancestors built this maze of tunnels, but I thank them for it. I believe they may have supported Gloucester when he was losing favour... or was it Richmond? Regardless, generations of Bennets have kept the tunnels secret and in good order, for just a time such as this. They were also most amusing as a lad for games of hide and seek.” He turned a benign smile upon his audience, who gaped at him.
Colonel Fitzwilliam made a sound like a short bark of laughter. “Well, I never! This set of tunnels for games! But we ought to be grateful they have found some use over the centuries, for this is most remarkable indeed. And this is where we will meet the Frenchmen?”
Papa nodded. Turning to the door, he called out in a louder voice, “C’est moi, Thomas Benoit. Venez, mes amis.”
The far door opened and three men emerged, each one peering at Lizzy and her companions through narrow, wary eyes.
“Lizzy,” Papa intoned, “meet your cousins.”
***
INTRODUCTIONS WERE made in both French and English, the three foreigners having some rudimentary command of the language but no great fluency.
Darcy regarded them with interest, wondering how much he ought to tip his own hand.
Would they welcome him as an ally if he approached him in their language, or would he learn more if they believed him not to understand them, going through Bennet as a translator when required?
In the end, pity won out over prudence and he returned their stammered greetings in his flawless, if lightly accented, French.
The smiles upon their cautious faces convinced him of the wisdom of his actions, and at a glance from him, Richard too greeted the Frenchmen in their language.
His command of French was, in many ways, superior to Darcy’s own, for whilst Richard was less precise with his use of grammar, he spoke with a comfortable fluency in an accent that, to Darcy’s ears, sounded natural.
“You have spent time in Normandy!” Etienne broke out in a smile.
He seemed to be, if not the leader, then the self-appointed spokesman of the trio, and bore the most resemblance to his cousin Bennet.
He looked several years younger than the Englishman, and Darcy considered that in his youth, Bennet’s now-greying hair must have held that same touch of auburn that graced his French cousin’s head.
He watched carefully as Richard replied.
“Mais bien s?r, but of course! My family held land near Yport, before the unrest. We sold the estate before the current wars began, but I did spend many happy summers there.”
“Mais non!” Etienne expostulated. “I spent much time in Fécamp, just a few short miles away! Did you know the compte’s family, from near Grainval?
” From this point, the conversation dissolved into a flurry of unfamiliar vowels and strangely elided consonants that had Darcy grasping at every fifth word, but the commonality of experience had sealed the friendship between the foreigners and his cousin, and for that he was pleased.
“I do not understand much either,” Elizabeth whispered. “‘Tis not the French of the classroom, that is certain. When they spoke to Papa, before in the tower, I could understand their accent then, so perhaps when they address us all, we may once more be so lucky.”
Darcy was relieved when this proved to be so, but the rapport with his cousin had been established and the atmosphere in the hidden underground room had turned from caution verging upon suspicion to one of camaraderie.
“May we turn to matters of business?” Bennet asked at last in his proper and comprehensible French. “Cousins, these gentlemen are our allies, and have a rather alarming proposition for you, but one which may help both our causes. Will you listen to them?”
Bennet led the group to the chairs that flanked the large table in the centre of the room, and Darcy wondered how the furniture had been brought here.
It hardly seemed likely that this huge piece was carried for half a mile through the dark and narrow underground passages, but that was a question for another time.
Instead, he held out a chair for Elizabeth, and when she was seated, he took the one beside her and gestured for Richard to explain their plans.
Richard began his speech to a counterpoint of exclamations, denials, and eventually grudging acceptance from the three Frenchmen.
Darcy listened with his full attention, for although his French was good, engaging in such a technical discussion required more than normal concentration.
Beside him, he could see Elizabeth nodding her head at a given statement or frowning disapproval at something that was said, and he realised that her own command of the language must be at least as good as his own.
Her father must have insisted on a mastery of the language, although his daughters might never have known why.
He did not think it possible, but his admiration for her grew even stronger as she interjected every now and then to clarify a point or ask a question which helped to guide the conversation.
She was remarkable in every way! He could not think of a life without her and resolved once more to press his case once more as soon as this venture were over.
At last Richard concluded to cautious nods by the Benoit cousins. “So we are agreed then, mes amis? We shall allow the enemy access to the original, damaged machine, but now outfitted with our counterfeit discs.”
“Oui, mais...” Jean-Luc scowled.
“You wish to see the replica machine. Of course, I would wish the same. Alas, it is at Netherfield,” Richard pursed his lips. “How can we arrange to bring you there, that you may see it?”
Darcy interrupted. “At last I have information you have not, Richard! The device is not at Netherfield after all, but at Longbourn.” He paused as all eyes turned to him.
“I could hardly leave it sitting unattended in Bingley’s study!
I had Paver pack it in his own trunks, between some old linens that need repairing and an extra stock of cravats.
I thought it as safe a place as anywhere. ”
“Well, then, gentlemen!” Richard boomed, “it seems the device is available for your examination. When you are satisfied with what we have recreated, we shall continue with our scheme.”
There was a round of silent nods, and he continued. “What we need now is a new message that we can encode with that same key. Something that will force them to show their hand, something that they could never have designed out of their own imaginations. May I suggest the following?”
Once again, Darcy watched in amazement as his gregarious, hail-fellow-well-met cousin transformed in an instant to the commanding colonel.
His open and inviting smile did not change, but it took on another layer of quiet and confident authority, and his pleasant baritone voice became one not for light-hearted banter and jokes, but for issuing commands, which he knew would be obeyed without question.
The three Benoit cousins seemed to take this metamorphosis in stride, for they sat up a little straighter in their chairs and adopted more serious miens. “We are listening, Colonel,” Jean-Luc made a gesture with his hand to continue.
“Very good. To summarise what we have discussed, Stanton knows the machine is here.
I propose summoning him to collect it. Darcy can write the missive, suggesting that he was unable to complete the drawings, but that it seems to be all but abandoned, or something of the sort.
Stanton only wanted the detailed drawings, but we shall give him the entire machine, as we have already discussed.
We shall also allow the original message, which our intelligence agents intercepted, to continue on its way. This way, Stanton will have both the machine and the encrypted message, which the machine will help to decypher, but with our set of discs in place of the originals.”
He paused and cast his eyes around the table. Everybody was in agreement to this point, and Darcy felt Elizabeth nodding beside him.
“For the message itself, I propose we send him to an official in the Home Office, one who is highly placed and who will be able to draw out even more information from Stanton and his associates before taking them all into custody on charges of treason. With the evidence we have and with what my associate will undoubtedly discover, I suspect few will escape the noose.”
Darcy scratched his chin. “May I ask how this official will know that these are indeed men working for our enemies, rather than concerned subjects wishing to discover more about our operations on the Continent?” The thought of innocent men being caught in someone else’s web and being executed for their efforts did not sit well with him.
“I have considered this. As with all aspects of this affair, we will have a password, something uncommon which only one with access to the encoded message will know. The original message has seventeen discernible characters. My suggested substitution has the same number: ‘Col. Hastings Merlin’.”
“Hastings?” Darcy spat out. “Not the Colonel Hastings here with the Gloucestershire Militia? He is not from the Home Office, surely! He is here to train his men!”
“I am sorry Will.” Darcy could hardly believe what Richard was saying.
“The entire militia is here on false pretences. These are not raw and untried soldiers learning how to march and hold a weapon. They are a highly skilled group of experienced soldiers here to protect what we knew was in the area. We knew that Monsieur Etienne was a crack code-breaker and felt it best to allow him to work on the machine in as much security as we could arrange.”
Now Bennet exploded, “You knew? You knew all the time that we had this device? I can hardly believe it! We took such pains to conceal its presence and all along you knew?”
“We have our sources of information, just as does Stanton. We did not wish to alarm you, merely to protect what we knew must eventually be passed along to us. The Gloucestershire militia has been keeping guard over Longbourn. Forgive us for not alerting you. Confidentiality was of paramount importance.”
Bennet’s face took on an unattractive cast of purple, but he settled back into his chair and said nothing. Richard continued.
“These soldiers, now that you know of their true purpose, will watch over the house when Stanton arrives, unless you wish for the machine to be discovered elsewhere. Some cottage further into the woods, perhaps, where the discovery will not disturb your family?”
Bennet nodded. “I know a place.”
“Ah, good. We will allow Stanton to take the machine, pretending it is by force, and when he contacts Hastings, the Home Office will take over.”
Darcy wiped his hand across his forehead, pushing back a lock of hair that had fallen across his brow. “And then our part in this strange play will be over?”
“It will be over.”
Then, at last, he could prevail once more upon the wonderful woman at his side to consent to marry him. As long as nothing went wrong!