The Perfect Suit

Chapter Forty-Two

T he posting house was a comfortable one, and Darcy, being a regular traveller on this part of the Great North Road, was recognised and treated accordingly. The landlord’s apron was straightened and the simply tied cravat at his neck was hastily checked in the mirror before he scurried out to the yard to meet the young men at the door with a bow .

“Good day, Mr. Darcy. You are on your way back to Derbyshire, sir? Or perhaps returning to London?”

“My friend and I are headed north, landlord. We must rest for the night, however. Your parlour is available?”

The landlord was regretful. “I beg your pardon, sirs — a large party of travellers has just this last hour taken it. Quality folk, like yourselves. I might ask them if they would object to sharing the room?”

Mr. Darcy exchanged a look with Bingley, who shook his head. “No need. I suppose you can arrange a table in a quiet corner of your taproom instead?”

Eager to please, the landlord nodded vigorously. “Yes, sir, at once. I fear you are not the only gentlemen to have lost out on the parlour this night. So overrun we are this week!”

Hoping that the other gentleman was not known to them, Darcy gestured to the door of the taproom with his stick. “That will do then. Will you have a tankard of ale, Bingley? Bring food also; we will eat before retiring.”

Bingley stayed by his friend's shoulder as the landlord led them to a table. “It is a blow that it is so busy here today. We had hoped to go by unnoticed. I do trust there will be no one who recognises us. How are we to make discreet enquiries with so many people about? We cannot search for Miss Lydia so openly. There must be a prize fight on, or a race, perhaps.”

Mr. Bingley's hope was to be dashed, for, at the table beside theirs, sat an exquisitely dressed man. He was regarding the reflection of the firelight in his highly polished boots with a frown of concentration, and it seemed that he did not at first observe their arrival. Darcy's instincts, however, made him suspect that Mr. Sutton knew very well that they were there.

Bingley, reliably enough, hailed the man from their table once he had seated himself, and regarded the others in the room with a cheerful expression of interest on his face.

“I say, Darcy, it is Mr. Sutton beside us — I have not seen him since that evening we sat at cards at…at Mrs. Lambeth's, was it not?” Bingley stood and raised his voice to be heard. “How do you do, sir? You may not recall me, but I…”

Sutton stood and returned Bingley's bow. “I recall you perfectly, Mr. Bingley — my fellow loser to the fair hand of Miss Bennet.” His eyes fell on Darcy and he smiled and bowed again. “Also, Mr. Darcy. Good evening, sir. Well met. How strange that we should meet on this road so far from London.”

Darcy bent his neck in return, desiring nothing more than to retreat from the room. “My estate is in Derbyshire, Mr. Sutton. I am often on this road — it is not so strange, I am sure. You are as entitled as we are to travel this way.”

The slight smile did not waver from Sutton's mouth but Darcy felt himself to be keenly observed. “And do you go there now, sir? To Pemberley, is it not? Perhaps you are on some peculiar errand like myself, however, that you should come north at this time of year.”

Bingley shifted uncomfortably beside him, perhaps now regretting having greeted Sutton so openly. Darcy elected to reply vaguely, “I may well head to Pemberley soon. Bingley has been so good as to accompany me.”

“Ah yes, a thousand apologies — it is not any of my affair why you should be here. Mr. Bingley, I raise my cup to you, sir — I have not congratulated you upon your impending marriage. I read about it in the paper and had it confirmed by Mrs. Houghton — one can never believe everything one reads, after all. I wish you and Miss Bennet happy. How hard it must be for you, sir, to leave your enchanting betrothed during the engagement period.”

Always cheerful at the mention of his future bride, Bingley grinned. “I thank you, sir — I am sure that we will be notably content. Miss Bennet and I do not like to be parted, of course, but...” he hesitated, afraid to say more than was wise. “Well, it is needed, I fear.”

“Miss Bennet is at home, perhaps? You are not here, I trust, in pursuit of her as she flies from your grasp?” Sutton watched carefully as Darcy's brows drew sharply together in disapproval and Bingley, gaping, shook his head. He then lightly laughed, “You must pardon me, gentlemen — my humour is out of place. Come, I cry pardon — you must have a drink on me and we will be amiable once more. I meant no offence, Mr. Bingley — I am sure that all the Miss Bennets are safely where they ought to be.”

Bingley, a little shaken by how close to the truth Sutton had come, glanced to Darcy again before replying. “I am sure there is no offence, Mr. Sutton. You were jesting, after all. We would be very happy to share a drink with you.” He drew his chair closer to the man. “But what can your errand be, that you are so far from town yourself?”

“I seek an unsavoury character, sir. A whim of mine.”

Darcy nodded to the servant who had put down their drinks on the table, and reached for the plate of cheese and cold meat that had also been set before them. Carefully cutting a thin slice, he savoured it before replying to Sutton .

“What is the name of this unsavoury character, Mr. Sutton? If we perchance encounter him we might be of use to you.”

Sutton took a long drink and placed his tankard down. “I regret to say — perhaps you will accuse me of evasion but it is true — that I do not know his name. I cannot tell you more, I fear — a lady's name ought not to be bandied about in a common taproom, after all. One might even say I am here on a matter of honourable retribution. ”

It was an odd statement but Bingley politely nodded as though he understood. Darcy did not respond but sliced a little more cheese for himself

Sutton, his eyes watchful, smiled again. “But you have so kindly offered to assist me, sir — I might do the same for you, seeing as my own quest may well be a fool’s errand, after all. What or whom do you seek in this lonely part of the world?”

“We have not said that we seek anyone, sir.”

“No, Mr. Darcy,” replied Sutton, gently, “but I was sure the way your eyes went about the room when you came in that perhaps you were. It is of no matter, of course. I daresay my help would be quite unneeded and that I almost border upon officious interference by my offer.”

Darcy considered what his reply might be. He did not like to deny the truth but neither did he desire to tell Mr. Sutton, whom he had always mistrusted, how the land lay. It was a great misfortune to have encountered him here — better that he should be in London behaving abominably than that he should divine with his strange perspicacity any scandal relating to the Bennets.

“As with you, sir, we are not at liberty to divulge the whole. We merely seek information regarding the wayward son of a faithful servant.”

“Dear me!” came the sympathetic reply. “Such a diligent master you must be, Mr. Darcy, to put yourself out so. I suppose the boy — a lad, surely — must be a thief also, or you would not have gone to this trouble. It is a pity that wayward sons are not disciplined properly in their youth. A horsewhip is the thing for it, or so my aunt says. She has so often lamented that I was not corrected more often.” Sutton straightened the white cuffs of his shirt to his satisfaction before continuing conversationally, “It is a strange thing that anyone would steal these days — the consequences are so very severe if caught. For example, I heard only yesterday that a gang of men stole a cart carrying pineapples to London and were sentenced to seven years of transportation for their efforts. I do trust that your servant's boy was not caught up in anything of that ilk, but I am sure he will be able to prove his innocence.”

It was impossible that Sutton had heard aught of Wickham or Miss Lydia's disappearance, yet there was a certain knowing air about the man that made one quite uncomfortable .

“That is very shocking,” answered Bingley, helping himself to the ham, “but I suppose it is right and just that wrongdoers should be punished for their crimes.”

“Quite so,” Sutton murmured. “If I recall correctly, your future sister-in-law, Mr. Bingley, was set upon purchasing one such pineapple to send to her family. I do trust she was able to.” Sutton smiled at Darcy. “Yes,” he continued, “Miss Elizabeth was most engagingly triumphant in the brilliance of her idea when I called at Gracechurch Street to settle my debt. An engaging young lady, is she not? I enjoyed my dances with her when I had the opportunity — but of course, I need not inform you, Mr. Darcy, of the young lady's manifold graces.”

Tightly, Mr. Darcy agreed that Miss Elizabeth was a delightful young lady. “I believe she was able to locate a pineapple for her family. Likely she would not think the gift worth your concern, however.”

Sutton observed his expression and, smiling still, drew his own conclusions. “I am sure anyone privileged to know any of the Miss Bennets must concern themselves with their wellbeing. I am relieved that Miss Elizabeth was not given any disappointment. I think she mentioned that her father resided in…in Hertfordshire, was it not?”

“Yes,” said Bingley, happy that the tone of the conversation seemed to have lost a little of its tension. “Mr. Bennet's estate is called Longbourn. It is three miles or so from Netherfield, the estate I am considering the purchase of after my marriage.”

“Excellent,” Mr. Sutton bowed, obliged to receive this information. “Do you wed soon, Mr. Bingley? I may well be in the vicinity of Hertfordshire to wish you happy, sir. Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth were quite the sensation in town, were they not? How proud the ton was of our white ghosts! Little doubt you are inundated with well-wishers, however, and will not need another voice to add to the felicitations.”

Neatly caught, Bingley named the day. “We should be most honoured to have you attend, Mr. Sutton, if you should happen to be in the area. Mrs. Bennet is a hospitable woman and I can say with certainty that she would not hesitate to welcome you, particularly as you claim an acquaintance with her daughters. ”

“How fortuitous — that is just the time I had meant to visit Hertfordshire,” smiled Mr. Sutton. “You are most kind, Mr. Bingley. I accept your invitation. ”

It was with some relief that Darcy bade goodnight to Mr. Sutton when Bingley finally announced he was weary and meant to go to bed. There was something decidedly unsettling in Sutton's interest in the Bennet family, and in Darcy’s eyes the man's ability to extract information was dangerous. Bingley, always talkative, had spoken openly about his future in-laws, seeing little unusual about the other man's probing questions. It was a pity that Darcy had been able to think of no way to give a gentle hint to Bingley that he ought to still his tongue a little more.

Mr. Sutton was gone by the time the two friends left the posting house the next morning, and Darcy resolved to put the disquieting man from his mind. It was imperative that they find some trace of Miss Lydia. Elizabeth's peace of mind was dependent upon her younger sister being found and Darcy would not rest until he had done all that could be done.

It was not until they reached Grantham that they heard any news of any of those they looked for. It was there at the posting house where they changed horses that the landlord's young wife proudly showed the gentlemen the register of guests and pointed to the entry showing Mr. Bennet and his daughter, Miss Mary. They had turned back toward London, she brightly informed them, but was sorry she had not seen anyone else fitting the description of the young lady they sought. As for the military man — perhaps there she could be of use. One of her husband's workers in the stable yard had reported a man lurking about these last few days, dressed in a dirty scarlet coat and telling a wild story as to how he ended up with neither money nor friends to help him .

The stable hand was found in due course, and Darcy, with Bingley beside him, carefully questioned him. After they had exhausted that avenue of inquiry, they dismissed the man with a coin and called for the carriage to take them into town .

“Judging by the description it is almost certainly Wickham,” said Darcy as the carriage made its way out from the courtyard. A careful hope had risen in him and he thought that perhaps now they might make some progress in their hunt. It had been too many days already since Miss Lydia had gone missing.

“What I cannot make out is why Mr. Bennet and Miss Mary would have returned south,” Bingley replied, “unless, of course, they recovered Miss Lydia and that is why they did not continue on.” Bingley seemed pleased by the idea. “Would that not be a fine thing? Jane would be relieved beyond anything. I do not like to see her so worried, you know, Darcy. Perhaps it is because things are settled between us now and it is only a short time before she becomes Mrs. Bingley, but it is a dreadful thing to see the object of one's affections in tears.”

Darcy recalled Elizabeth's face after she read the express from her sister and how she had bravely tried to contain herself before turning into his arms for comfort .

“I comprehend what you are saying, Bingley.” he answered, “but we cannot assume that Miss Lydia has been recovered. I suggest we attempt to locate Wickham if he is still here in Grantham, and gain information there. She may yet be with him. Perhaps it might be time, after that, for you to return to Netherfield and see if there is any news. What an inconvenience it is to be so without communication — I cannot be sure if our search is fruitless through failure or unknown success.”

It took them the better part of two hours in Grantham to find Mr. Wickham. Bingley, a little less nice in his conscience than Darcy, found success by affecting to be a friend of his and hinting that he was able to settle whatever money might be owed. Wickham had, it transpired, fled from his first lodgings without settling his shot there. A less respectable lodging had accepted him last night but, sensibly in Darcy's opinion, had demanded money up front. The owner of that establishment had no compunction in taking the two gentlemen up to Wickham's door .

“Mr. Wickham!” he called through the door, banging on it with his fist, “you have a visitor. ”

A muffled thud was heard and at length, the door was pulled open by a crack .

“Darcy! ”

Mr. Bingley's boot prevented the door from closing again, and pushing forward, the two friends made their way inside.

There was little furniture in the room. A single chair stood by the window and a foul-smelling bed had been positioned against the opposite wall. Wickham, after a quick glance to the window, seemed to realise that fleeing was not a viable option and sat down heavily on the bed. Bingley stood in front of the door and Darcy crossed to the chair.

“It is apparent you are alone.” He declined to waste time on empty courtesies, not when he desired to knock his old acquaintance down. Darcy occupied his hands by straightening his gloves instead.

“Of course I am alone — who do you expect…oh, yes. I see.” Wickham reached for a bottle beside the bed and took a sip. “You will pardon me for not offering you a drink. I have no spare cups, as you see, and I daresay you can afford your own wine.”

Darcy remained silent, only looking about the room. “The militia in Hertfordshire will be most interested to hear of your whereabouts, I am sure.”

Wickham looked up quickly from the bottle. He had not shaved in many days and his eyes were bloodshot .

“Did you offer to find me for the regiment, so that you could deliver me up to the colonel? I see you are not above revenge, after all, Darcy. You are just as human as I, it seems.”

“I did not.”

Unsettled by the calm and coldly brief reply, Wickham tried goading him. “I suppose then, that you are here because Lydia told some tear-filled story about how I deceived her and whisked her away. It's mostly lies, you know — she came quite willingly but you ever choose to believe a very young lady in such circumstances, do you not?”

Darcy digested this and quickly shook his head when Bingley sent him a quizzical look. Evidently Miss Lydia was not in company with Wickham, or he would not have assumed she had told her tale .

Wickham, unnerved by the silence, continued speaking when he did not receive an angry answer. “But why would you be here for that? Him,” he said, nodding to Bingley, “I can understand — going to be an in-law to the Bennets. Only think — we might have been brothers.”

“You remain confident in your charms, I see,” Darcy said noncommittally, rising from the chair, his hand flexing behind his back. Sutton was correct about the horsewhip if nothing else.

“You are not here for Lydia's honour , then, not that I think she has much. Why are you here, Darcy? ”

There was a prolonged silence. The thought of Sutton had caused an idea to grow in Darcy's mind. “I heard tell of a pineapple robbery,” replied Mr. Darcy, eventually with as much disinterest as he could summon. “A delivery of pineapples intended to be sold in London — stolen at great cost to the supplier and those the man was in business with. The majority of the miscreants are bound for Botany Bay, of course, but anyone else who might have been involved is required to account for their whereabouts. The magistrates in the area are not inclined to leniency.”

The vague stirrings of alarm became apparent in Mr. Wickham's person. “And you think I might be…no, Darcy, come now. I am a poor honest soldier, after all. Theft is not the sort of thing I would be guilty of.”

“The owner of your previous lodging here might disagree, and your commanding officer will be unable to account for your whereabouts as you did not report for duty when you ought. Given your current arrangements,” Darcy swept a contemptuous hand about the room, “there is no saying what you have been driven to.”

“Yes — that is because I was…” Wickham trailed off. “I had nothing to do with it! I do not know why Lydia abandoned our plan to be married but she left me without a penny to pay for the chaise and I had to lay out most of what I had on that. I could not even afford decent lodging here, never mind being able to return to my post. There is a perfectly reasonable explanation. I am sure Lydia can attest to my whereabouts whenever this robbery took place.”

“Lydia Younge? I am afraid a more respectable witness might be required.”

Dismay was now apparent. “No! I mean Lydia Bennet, of course. She left me without a by your leave nearby and as far as I could make out, took the stage coach home. She toyed with me!”

“You cannot be referring to Miss Lydia Bennet, Wickham. According to the neighbourhood, she has been afflicted with a very bad cold and is at home nursing it. No, I am afraid that the Bennets will not vouch for you. ”

“Very true,” Bingley entered into the conversation, catching on to what Darcy intended. “You know what a stickler for honesty Mr. Darcy is. Only two days ago I was in Meryton and Mrs. Long asked me how Miss Lydia's cold was mending. I suppose she thought I might be able to answer on account of my engagement to Miss Bennet. The apothecary recommended a fine draught that he thought might help, but that is by the by of course.”

By the time Mr. Bingley had finished his helpful addition to the conversation, still firmly planted by the door, Wickham was pale .

“I know nothing of any pineapples. Miss Lydia Bennet and I — she wished me to escort her to London . She will tell you that, I am sure!”

Darcy's brows rose fractionally. “And yet you cower before me very far away from London. It is not sound, Wickham.”

Wickham stood up, stung. “No, you misunderstand me. I made out that I would take her to London but meant to bring her to Gretna Green — she was not particularly quiet about having come into a fortune. That is what I have been doing — nothing to do with any robbery.”

“You mean to tell me — as a defence — that you abducted a young lady from her parents' home.”

“Yes, that is exactly what happened.”

“You are aware, Wickham, that the kidnapping of children has recently been made an offence equalling that of stealing. The value of the pineapples makes the theft a felony but abducting a girl is not precisely smiled upon in court. I am sure my uncle the judge would take a very dim view of it.”

“Children! Come now, this is absurd. She is certainly not a child.”

“She is fifteen, far from the age of majority.”

Mr. Wickham swallowed and drank deeply from the bottle in his hand. He sat in silence for some moments, thinking furiously. “I have changed my mind. I was not anywhere near Lydia Bennet.”

“I see. You were, in fact, elsewhere? You wish me to believe that this was a falsehood you made up to conceal your involvement with the theft?”

Anxiously, the man on the bed drew his hand through his hair. “I had nothing to do with either — I swear it. I know nothing of Lydia Bennet or those pineapples. Darcy, you must help me!”

“Must I?”

Desperation coloured Wickham's tone now, and he spoke more loudly than before. “For old times’ sake. Your father was so fond of me, after all. We played together as boys. You remember, do you not? Transportation — it would kill me. Mr. Darcy would not have wished that.”

“I remember. My memory of my father is good enough, far better than yours.” Darcy emitted a sigh. “Very well. I will assist you. It will be for the last time on this earth, but I will assist you