Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
Lizzy could all but see her mother’s thoughts as the notion developed of her two younger daughters married, and one to a man of status, and a letter of grateful acceptance was penned and dispatched at once.
Only Lizzy herself elected to stay at Longbourn.
Her room, she claimed with all accuracy, was far enough from the blocked chimney that she was not incommoded at all; there was no smoke at all in the tower, and she did not believe Mrs. Forster would take offence at her absence.
This, too, was found most suitable by Lydia, for she had been quite clear in her anger at Lizzy’s disapproval of Mr. Wickham’s attentions.
Consequently, the Bennet ladies packed their trunks and were gone from Longbourn within a few short hours, leaving the house unnaturally quiet but filled with a sense of foreboding.
For two days, nothing happened. With Mama and her sisters absent, Papa was insistent upon the utmost of decorum and proper behaviour, and kept a stern eye on Darcy, insisting there be a footman in the hall outside his bedchamber each night.
There were, therefore, no opportunities for secretive meetings or midnight chats in scandal-risking solitude.
The faulty chimney was rendered operable once more with the opening of the flue, and the small amount of smoke that had chased the other ladies from the manor house was dealt with by the judicious opening of windows, although the house still smelled of the smoke to a noticeable degree.
How many games of chess could she play? Lizzy wondered as the second afternoon drew to a close.
How many books could she read, or chemises could she embroider?
Quiet solitude did not normally bother her, for she was of a disposition to enjoy her own company, but to be so close to Mr. Darcy, within an arm’s reach or just across the small dining room table, and unable to speak to him as she desired was almost intolerable in its vexation to her.
If only Papa would leave them alone for a while!
But of course he knew his place, as did Mr. Darcy, and only the most general conversations could be had, and those most likely touching upon the events of the last several weeks and of the scheme to trap Lord Stanton.
And then, as they were sitting down to a late breakfast on the third day, there came the sound of coach wheels crunching through the snow that still blanketed the drive.
Papa looked up from his soup. “Stanton?”
Mr. Darcy nodded. “I did not request that he come himself, but I cannot imagine him leaving this conversation to a letter. I cannot think who else it might be. Mr. Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, if you will excuse me?” He rose from the table to meet the enemy at the front door.
***
IN TRUTH, THIS VISIT from Stanton was everything Darcy had expected.
He had been careful to write his letter asking only for advice and direction, but he fully anticipated the baron to come storming the castle.
He must be frustrated beyond measure by now, after all these weeks with nothing to show for his planning and scarcely a word from Darcy other than obfuscation about the exact status and location of the machine.
Stanton would, he presumed, be seething beneath his carefully cultivated veneer of bonhomie.
The entrance hall was silent, all but a skeleton staff of servants having been sent off for some days on account of the chimney.
He could hear, through the locked door, the coach wheels crunching through the snow, the muffled clop of horses’ hooves, then an exasperated whinny from a beast who would clearly much prefer to be in a warm stable with a pile of hay, a bucket of oats, and a trough of water at its disposal.
After some minutes, during which the indistinguishable noises of men’s voices filtered through the door, there finally came the expected footsteps and chime of the doorbell.
“Lord Stanton,” Darcy greeted the visitor.
“Do come in from the cold. I am surprised you sought me here, rather than at Netherfield, where I had been staying. I would offer you tea, but I’m afraid the house is all but abandoned today, due to a blockage in the main chimney.
Perhaps you will permit me to stand you to a good meal at the Lion in the village.
Mrs. Washburn makes an excellent beef pie.
” He kept his voice light, his expression pleasant.
It was not as difficult as he thought it might be, for until he had discovered Stanton’s perfidy he had really liked the man.
Likewise, Stanton’s face showed only pleasure at seeing his friend once more. He walked inside and stomped the snow off his shining black boots before extending a hand in friendship.
“I do say, Darcy, you are looking better than at our last meeting, quite recovered, in fact! I am more than delighted to see you so hale. How does the shoulder? Any troubles? And your head? All clear now? That is excellent news indeed!
“I had thought to go straight to Netherfield, but I too discovered the Lion, where I have taken a room for the night, and the good lady Washburn thought you might be here instead, and I took my chance. So,” he dropped his voice, “this is how the conspirators live! How interesting.”
Feigning nonchalance, Darcy nodded but said nothing other than to repeat his offer a meal in the private parlour at the Lion.
“I should be pleased to accept; this house does rather smell strongly of smoke. If I may wait here whilst you find your coat? Excellent.”
Within minutes, Darcy was seated in Lord Stanton’s luxurious carriage.
The impatient horse proved to be one of a perfectly matched set, and Darcy suggested that Mr. Washburn’s stables at the inn would provide excellent care for the two steeds.
The journey, less than a mile, was completed within minutes and, as promised, the two were led to a comfortable private parlour and were provided with a mug each of ale whilst they awaited their meal.
Stanton was the first to broach the issue. “I see you have become rather a favourite with Bennet, to be invited to Longbourn even as you seek to find him out.”
Was that an edge in Stanton’s voice? Darcy answered evenly, “Perhaps not so strange. You did bid me to seek his company and friendship, and I discovered that, despite any intimations of treasonous wrongdoings, I rather like the man.” Did Stanton read a double meaning into that statement? His face betrayed none of his thoughts.
“And how came you to be one of the favoured few, even as the house has been deserted whilst the chimney is cleared of its blockage? I would imagine you to be the first one to abscond, with Netherfield so close at hand.”
Darcy laughed. “Aye, do not think I didn’t consider it strongly for some moments, especially as the smoke began pouring from the fireplace and all over Mrs. Bennet’s fine table!
The family were all in such a bother, and Bennet seemed quite to rely on me for some sane and intelligent conversation, even as his wife and daughters were crying about their ruined frocks.
After a time I could hardly smell the smoke any longer, and it seemed only right to keep the gentleman company whilst his household abandoned him.
I also thought it might give me time to seek further in any drawers or cabinets I might come across, in search of documents that might be of interest, even if we have learned the machine itself is elsewhere.
” He let his eyes rest upon Stanton’s own with a steady but not fixed gaze and hoped he seemed sincere.
“Well, yes...” Stanton began. At that moment, Mrs. Washburn bustled in with a tray laden with pies, breads, cheeses and baked root vegetables, and the topic changed to one more conducive to good digestion.
The food was as tasty as promised, and it was with less warning in his voice that Stanton returned, at last, to his purpose.
“This machine, then, was not in the house at all? It was not only recently moved to this... other building of which you wrote?”
“So I now believe,” Darcy took a final sip from his tankard and gestured to the pot of hot coffee that a serving girl had just now brought in.
Stanton nodded, and Darcy filled two cups.
“I had searched the house as best I was able and found nothing. Bennet must have had the machine in this other location all the time. I cannot imagine where he might have kept it had it been in the house.”
“I am most curious,” Stanton stared at him over the lip of his coffee cup, “how you found this secretive location, and after all this time. Surely it was not by happenstance.” He blinked innocently.
Darcy understood him exactly. He suspected Darcy as Darcy suspected him. Two were playing at this game now.
“I had decided that the machine could not be in the manor house but must be on Longbourn’s property somewhere.
I found a map of the estate’s grounds under the excuse of seeking places to ride to regain my strength and began to explore the various buildings that were marked upon it.
Believe me, sir, I have seen the inside of more gardening sheds and storage huts than any gentleman ought ever to do!
” He chuckled at his own joke, hoping to disarm his adversary.
“I progressed about two-thirds of the way through the list, starting closest to the manor house, when I came upon this cottage at the far edge of the wood. I watched it from the trees for several days and left scatterings of leaves to see if it were being visited when I was not there and then decided to approach more closely. The result was as I wrote to you. It seems quite abandoned.”
“Whyever would they take such care to bring the machine to such a place as this and then abandon it? It hardly seems accountable.” Stanton scratched his head.
Darcy nodded. “I have been wondering that myself. Perhaps they have done all they can with it, or are awaiting some other operative with more knowledge. The cabin, for all that it is so isolated, is solid and secure, and it took me long enough to find it. It is a better hiding place than at first it seems.”
“So I come to understand! And if I were to ask you to take me there at this moment—”
“Then I should be pleased to do so. Sir.”
Stanton peered at him, unblinking, for almost a full minute, the seconds of which ticked by with excruciating slowness. At last, he stood from his seat. “Very well. Let us go. I am trusting you here, Darcy. I do hope you have not let me down.”
The words were benign, but the meaning was a clear threat.