Chapter 6
Afew days after his return to town, a letter arrived from Yorkshire in Bingley’s scribbled hand.
My dear friend,
I have received word from Louisa. She called on the Bennets a few days ago. A melancholy business, she tells me. Mrs Bennet's spirits were still quite low, though she rallied enough to receive her in the drawing room.
Louisa informs me that she was there not ten minutes when Mr MacKinnon joined them. The family received him with considerable warmth. She reports Mr MacKinnon appeared quite settled at Longbourn. In fact, he resides in one of the cottages on the estate instead of at an inn.
Indeed, Louisa declared herself quite surprised by the close connection between him and Miss Elizabeth.
She states that he stationed himself beside Miss Elizabeth for the duration of her visit.
Why, he even brought her tea without being asked, despite Mrs Hill’s presence.
It appeared to Louisa as though Mr MacKinnon is now courting Miss Elizabeth, much to Mrs Bennet’s obvious delight.
This MacKinnon troubles me, Darcy, though I cannot say precisely why. Louisa informs me her husband felt the same, and despite all his failings, he is a good judge of character.
I thought you would wish to know of developments there, given your acquaintance with the family and your interest in Miss Elizabeth. I remain, as always, your friend,
Charles Bingley
Darcy set the letter down slowly and reached for his cup. His tea had gone cold whilst he read. He stared at Bingley's handwriting again without truly seeing it.
Darcy had not realised he was balling his fists until he felt his fingernails press into his palms. Shaking his head, he withdrew fresh paper from his desk, dipped his pen in the inkpot and started to compose two letters he suspected he might later regret.
The first went to Major Alastair Grant. They had met years ago at Lord Matlock's estate, an encounter that began with Grant's blunt assessment of the salmon being served at dinner and ended with both men somewhat foxed on Scots whisky, trading stories about their respective fathers' impossible expectations.
Grant had served in the Highlands most of his adult life.
If anyone could verify MacKinnon's claims and circumstances, it would be him.
He wrote a brief explanation as to why he wished to engage his services, then drew forth another sheet.
Mr Hartley, his solicitor back home in Derbyshire, was accustomed to such requests. Over the years, Darcy had employed him to investigate business partners, verify property claims, and conduct due diligence on matters requiring delicacy. This would not strike him as unusual.
Mr Hartley, he wrote on the fresh sheet.
I require a review of property holdings on the Isle of Skye belonging to one Malcolm MacKinnon, of Strathaird. Specifically: succession records, any outstanding debts or encumbrances, and an assessment of current income from the estate.
Speed matters more than exhaustive detail. I need to know whether the man's circumstances are as he represents them.
Darcy
He sealed both letters and pulled the calling bell. The footman appeared promptly.
“Have these posted immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
The young man departed. Darcy remained at his desk, staring at the space where the letters had been.
What had he just initiated? An investigation of a gentleman's private affairs based on nothing more substantial than Bingley's discomfort and his own...
what? Concern for Elizabeth's welfare? Or mere inability to accept that she might find happiness with another man?
He could not say with certainty. That troubled him more than he cared to admit.
“You are brooding.”
Darcy looked up to find Georgiana in the doorway. She regarded him with that particular expression she had developed since the business with Wickham, one that combined affection with an unsettling ability to read his thoughts.
“I was unaware my face was so transparent,” he replied.
“It is to those who know you.” She moved into the room and settled herself in the chair opposite his desk. “This concerns Miss Elizabeth Bennet, does it not?”
There seemed little point in dissembling. “Her father's death has left the family in difficult circumstances. A distant relation has appeared claiming the estate. I merely wish to ensure they are not being deceived during their grief.”
“You are investigating him, are you not? I just saw James hurrying outside with two letters.”
Darcy leaned back in his chair. “I have initiated certain enquiries, yes. To ensure the family's welfare.”
“And you question your own motives in doing so.”
The accuracy of her observation was uncomfortable. How had his young sister become so discerning? “Constantly,” he admitted. “I wonder whether I act from genuine concern or merely refuse to accept that she has every right to reject me and choose her own path.”
“Perhaps both,” Georgiana suggested. “But the fact that you question yourself suggests you have changed, does it not? The gentleman you were some months ago would have acted without hesitation, convinced of the rightness of his judgement.”
“I am uncertain whether this represents growth or merely paralysis,” Darcy said.
“I think it represents humility.” Georgiana poured herself tea from the pot on the side table. “You recognise now that your judgement is not infallible, that others have agency in their own lives. That is no small thing, Brother.”
They sat in silence for several moments whilst Darcy attempted to organise his thoughts into some coherent framework.
“What do you hope to discover?” she asked finally.
“The truth. Whether MacKinnon is who he claims to be. Whether his circumstances are as he represents them. Whether his interest in the Bennet family stems from genuine regard or more mercenary motives.”
“And if he proves entirely honourable?”
“Then I shall have wasted postage and made myself ridiculous. But I shall also have ensured the family was not deceived.”
“You shall also have cleared the path for another man to marry Miss Elizabeth.” Georgiana's tone was gentle, but her eyes were steady on his face. “Have you considered that outcome?”
Darcy had considered little else. “I think about it constantly,” he admitted. “Yet I cannot simply do nothing when there are questions that want answering.”
“Miss Elizabeth, by your description, is remarkably intelligent and perceptive,” Georgiana observed. “Surely she can assess Mr MacKinnon's character without your intervention?”
“She is also grieving her father and distracted by concerns of keeping her family housed and fed.” Darcy's hand tightened on the arm of his chair.
“Even the most intelligent person can be deceived when someone understands precisely which vulnerabilities to exploit and presents himself as the solution to every problem.”
Georgiana studied his face. “And if your investigations uncover something troubling? What then?”
That was the question he had been avoiding. “I do not yet know,” he admitted. “Much will depend upon what is discovered and how definitive the evidence proves to be.”
***
The letters arrived within days of each other, and both proved frustratingly inconclusive.
Major Grant's response came first. Darcy broke the seal with hands that were not entirely steady.
Darcy,
I have conducted the enquiries you requested regarding Malcolm MacKinnon of Strathaird. What follows represents the best intelligence available through my contacts in the region, though I must caution you that Highland records remain in considerable disarray.
MacKinnon is indeed registered as Laird of Strathaird in the kirk-session records I was able to access, though several years of entries are missing or too damaged to decipher.
The estate suffered significant losses during the Clearances of 1805.
The MacKinnon clan endured terrible hardships.
Villages burned, families displaced, many forced to emigrate or seek work in the industrial cities.
MacKinnon himself has been largely absent from Skye these past several years.
My informants tell me he has been pursuing business interests elsewhere, though specifics are difficult to obtain.
Some locals speak well of his efforts to assist displaced clan members, providing funds for emigration and assistance to those who remained. Others whisper about substantial debts.
I made discreet enquiries in Edinburgh as you requested.
MacKinnon has had dealings with Carstairs and Sons, a banking house with an unsavoury reputation for aggressive lending practices.
My contact could not provide specific amounts without attracting unwanted attention, but he suggested the debts were substantial and the repayment terms rather punishing.
There were also vague mentions of connexions to certain establishments in Leith, though whether this represents genuine business dealings or merely gossip, I cannot say.
You know Leith's reputation as well as I do.
The port district attracts the sort of moneylenders who cater to desperate men accepting ruinous terms. The association is not necessarily damning.
Many Highland gentlemen have legitimate business there.
But combined with substantial debts to a questionable banking house, the picture troubles me.
I cannot say with certainty what these connexions indicate about MacKinnon's character or intentions.
He may simply be a man attempting to rebuild a devastated estate through whatever means are available to him.
Or his financial desperation may be driving him to make decisions that will ultimately prove ruinous.
I recommend continued observation and caution.
Grant
Darcy set the letter down and stared at it. Troubling, certainly. But hardly definitive evidence justifying direct action. Nothing that clearly marked MacKinnon as either villain or saint, merely as a man in difficult circumstances whose choices might be influenced by financial pressures.