Chapter Nine #2
“We have been gathering information and evidence on Colonel Forster’s little syndicate for a year now,” Richard said.
“The Red Bandits, we call them, for he only works with officers. In order to maintain the innocence of his men, Forster will always kill one or two of the weakest at the scene of the robbery, then make a great show of charging to the rescue, claiming to have taken out a couple of the robbers while the rest got away—along with the items of greatest value. His men look like heroes, nobody ever suspects their schemes, and they still get away with the majority of their ill-gotten gains, recovering just enough from the bodies left behind to convince their victims that they have exerted themselves in pursuing justice. And the associates most likely to give them away are forever silenced.”
“If we do not act,” Denny added, “Harry and Marv will meet their end on the lawn of Longbourn and be found with pockets full of your cheapest trinkets, while Forster sends your finest jewels off to the seedier pawnbrokers of London.”
“But surely they will not actually attempt the burglary,” Elizabeth cried. “I have convinced them that my family returned to Longbourn the night before last.”
Richard gave a slight shake of his head and Denny offered them all an apologetic smile. “It was a clever ruse, to be sure, but I fear at least one of your tenants could not resist the urge to praise your generosity to the rest of the neighborhood.”
Elizabeth’s countenance was crestfallen. “They know my family is not here with me?”
Darcy felt a surge of protective anger. Elizabeth’s family still had not returned, and the tenants whom she had shown such kindness had repaid her by unwittingly endangering her.
“Worse than that, Wickham knows the Darcys are here,” Denny said to Richard. “He plans to kill you, Mr. Darcy, and to….” He did not finish his sentence, but his eyes drifted to Georgiana.
Darcy stiffened, and his sister did the same, but her countenance betrayed none of the alarm he expected, and even felt himself. Across the table, she took Elizabeth’s hand, and the two women shared a look of fiery resolve.
“I am so sorry for drawing you into this,” Elizabeth said, glancing from Georgiana to Darcy.
“I am glad that you will not face it alone,” Georgiana replied. Darcy at once wished to leap from his chair and cheer for his sister, and to embrace her and Elizabeth—and to spirit them both away to safety.
“We will apprehend these criminals,” Richard said firmly. “I have a team making ready in London, and we shall be here at ten o’clock, when they mean to commence their activities.”
“They mean to strike at seven,” Denny sighed. “The colonel has grown cautious, and changed the time at the last moment.”
Richard’s nostrils flared as he turned to Denny, grimacing. “Can you not stall them?”
“Not for three hours,” Denny said. “Can you not bring your men earlier?”
“That is most impossible! I must return to London and contact my superiors as well as a dozen other soldiers, and then ride back here under cover of dark. We might arrive by nine, at the earliest.”
“At the risk of sounding bloodthirsty, can we not just shoot them?” Elizabeth asked.
Richard grinned for a moment before he resumed a serious demeanor.
“While I admire your courage, Miss Bennet, I must advise against it. This has been the work of more than a year at the Office of Intelligence, and not only do we wish to bring these men to justice through trial, we hope they may be coaxed into divulging information on their co-conspirators. We have reason to believe them merely a small part of a larger conspiracy within the militia.”
“Well, we could… shoot them in the legs,” Georgiana suggested delicately.
Denny looked at Georgiana as if she were the Queen, while Darcy could only stare aghast, and Mrs. Annesley gently chided her charge.
Richard threw back his head and guffawed, covering Georgiana’s hand with his own.
“That’s my girl! But as much as I should celebrate you putting a bullet or ten in George Wickham, I must discourage any attempt to do so.
Civilians shooting wildly in the night is a recipe for disaster. ”
“We will defend ourselves, if you cannot,” Darcy cried, surprising even himself with the vehemence of his speech. “If Wickham wishes us such harm, I will do everything in my power to bring him down.”
Across the table, Mrs. Annesley sat with one arm still around Georgiana’s shoulders; she brought her free hand daintily to her mouth and gave a soft, deliberate cough as her eyes landed on Darcy. He inclined his head toward her. “Madam? Have you something to say?”
“You are as much a part of this as anyone else,” Richard added encouragingly.
“Thank you,” Mrs. Annesley said with a deferential nod. “It occurred to me that Mrs. Hill told me of her son Johnny—he sprained his ankle after slipping on some ice and falling down the stairs at the servants entrance, at the back of the house.”
Everyone at the table looked quizzically at the serene older woman. Everyone except Elizabeth, who was grinning wolfishly as she motioned for Mrs. Annesley to elaborate.
“Well, though I shall not condone any haphazard shooting, perhaps there is merit in Miss Darcy’s notion of incapacitating these brutes.
Mrs. Hill said that she salted away the ice after Johnny took his fall, but there is snow enough on the ground that there might easily be ice on the stairs once more by nightfall. ”
Richard mirrored Elizabeth’s wicked smile. “I say, Darcy, this one is a vast improvement over the last woman to hold her position. If Mrs. Annesley is not running your entire household in the next few years, I am poaching her to come work for me.”
Denny nodded as he considered the suggestion.
“It may take more than ice at the entrances, but there is indeed merit in the notion of detaining them in such a way. I can stall our arrival for perhaps an hour, and if your men can hasten here an hour early, Colonel Fitzwilliam, that leaves only an hour—from eight o’clock until nine—for you to distract and disarm them here at Longbourn. ”
“Even with Denny turning on them at the last minute, there will be nine armed soldiers besieging this house,” Richard said, steepling his fingers on the table in front of him as his countenance turned serious.
“They have every entrance to this house mapped out—you are going to need a lot more than ice to hinder them.”
Elizabeth smirked. “Perhaps the trellis beneath my bedroom window might come loose? Or the intruders might step across a floor polished with grease and then strewn with rusty nails? I cannot account for why there is a pail of them in the shed, but for just such a moment.”
“I take it back—apologies, Mrs. Annesley,” Richard said, gesturing to Elizabeth. “Darcy, put her in charge of Pemberley.”
Though she shook her head as she laughed, Darcy could see Elizabeth glow under such praise, and her eyes locked on his.
He longed to declare that he fully intended to take his cousin’s teasing advice, and if they could manage a few minutes of privacy, Darcy meant to throw himself at Elizabeth’s feet and beg her to make him the happiest of men.
In the short but significant time they had spent together at Longbourn, Darcy had lost all ability to envision any life for himself that did not include her.
But there was much to be done, and their plan of defense was only in its infancy.
Before Darcy could win Elizabeth’s hand, he first must protect her—no, he must help her protect herself from what was to come.
He spent the next hour at her side, marveling at her every idea for wicked mischief, and devoted the rest of the day to bringing her devious visions to life.
His proposal would have to wait—tonight they were waging a war.