Chapter 22
The heavy knock on the door sounded up in the attic, and shortly thereafter Darcy heard the assured voice of a man accustomed to giving orders.
He hastened down the steps to the front of the house.
Already Elizabeth stood there, shoulders straight, chin up like an empress in command of her realm.
She knew who the men were, what they were there for, and she would not allow for them to take her dignity even if they would sell off every other personal item in the household.
“Allow me to show you to his book room, gentlemen,” she said calmly.
Her mother and sisters clustered around, curious and looking to her for answers she had been instructed not to give.
She tapped on the door, then pushed the barrier open and stepped aside to allow the gentlemen to pass.
Mr. Bennet looked up from a book he had been reading and appeared disoriented, as though he had been jolted awake from a pleasant dream.
Bringing up the rear, Darcy turned and, with a nod he hoped provided some reassurance to the remaining female Bennets, he entered the study and closed the door behind him.
The bailiff stood directly in front of the desk. “Mr. Bennet, I am Frank Rafferty, bailiff to the Sheriff of Hertfordshire. I do apologize for the intrusion—”
“Mr. Bennet,” interrupted the second man, dressed in a black coat over a dark waistcoat, the cream-colored documents in his hands a stark contrast to his funereal attire.
“I am Mr. Henry Voles, Officer of His Majesty’s Customs. I have been authorized by Sir Bradley Headstone, the Collector of Customs, to attend to the execution of a distress warrant upon your property on behalf of His Majesty’s Customs regarding debts owed in relation to Imperial Spirits & Fine Goods.
” He held out the credentials as he spoke, a folder full of more documents tucked firmly under his arm.
Mr. Bennet’s dazed gaze settled on Elizabeth as he wavered to his feet, leaning against his desk. “I… I did not expect your call so soon.” She rushed to his side, motioning for the men to sit, and saw her father settled while Darcy poured him a drink from the decanter on the sideboard.
With a deferential bow, Darcy next offered the gentlemen a glass, which they promptly refused.
“Mr. Rafferty, Mr. Voles, I am Mr. Bennet’s secretary, Daniel Robinson.
While the promptness of your call has taken us by surprise, we did know to expect you.
” At that, Mr. Voles relinquished the papers.
Darcy crossed to the other side of the desk, where Elizabeth stood, so she could see the letter of authorization from Sir Bradley, a copy of the distress warrant, and a detailed accounting of the debt.
Darcy’s heart sank, but his voice was crisp. “Everything is in order.”
From the small writing desk by the window, he retrieved the stack of partnership documents, company correspondence, and receipts from the quarterly dividends that had been paid.
They had not been so lucky as to find a contract with a blatant forgery.
He handed them to Elizabeth so she might present them to the officer, a gesture showing his deference to her and establishing her as an authority in the household.
Her composure never faltered. Taking the documents, she presented them to Mr. Voles. “We respect that you are a busy man with an important job. It appears by your appearance a mere fortnight after we received the first notice that the charges brought against my father have been expedited?”
Mr. Voles replied directly. “If you cannot pay in full today, I have the authority to sell your personal possessions.”
“We are aware. While we have been gathering evidence to disprove the claims against my father, we thought it beneficial to both parties to conduct our own inventory of Longbourn’s property.
” She nodded at Darcy, and he produced the list. The officer took the papers, flipping through them as Elizabeth spoke.
“We began with the contents of the house, and would have continued to the outbuildings and the livestock had you not arrived so promptly.”
With a slap, he flipped the pages of the list closed. “This is an exhaustive list?”
She nodded. “I went through every room with the assistance of the housekeeper and Mr. Robinson. The list was checked and approved by my father for its accuracy. I am confident you will find it thorough.”
Mr. Voles’s expression remained alert, but his stance relaxed. “In my fifteen years of service, I have never had anyone perform this duty for me.”
“We intend to be cooperative, sir.”
“Most people try to throw me off their property.”
“We have no intention of doing so. However, we would appreciate that you grant us the time we have spared you. Please, allow us more time to prove our case. My father is not responsible for this debt.”
“It is not in my authority to grant you more time.”
Elizabeth was not discouraged. “But surely, it would take you much longer than the week it took us to identify the articles which might be sold from Longbourn.”
“I thank you for sparing me time, Miss, but I cannot extend the payment of your father’s debt beyond what has been assigned.”
She bit her lips. Mr. Bennet said nothing, just sat spinning his empty glass. Darcy stepped closer to the desk, to her. He applauded Elizabeth’s attempt to gain more time and wished he could soften the blow of refusal for her.
Addressing Mr. Voles, he said, “That is as expected, and we appreciate your candor. Am I to understand that you are satisfied with the list and therefore have no need to cause further disturbance to the residents of the household by doing your own inventory?”
The officer handed the list to Mr. Rafferty. “Does this seem accurate to you?”
Mr. Rafferty looked over the list, his cheeks blushing when he got to the contents of the ladies’ rooms. He cleared his throat and handed the papers back. “Yes. It appears complete.”
Once more, Mr. Voles reviewed the notes, inspecting every page before he tucked the papers inside the folder he carried under his arm.
“The items inside the house seem to be in order. However, we shall have to continue with the livestock and the stores. Perhaps Mr. Bennet would see fit to accompany us.” Mr. Bennet did not look at all inclined to accompany them.
In fact, his pallor moved Darcy to reach for the decanter to refill his glass.
“Do you wish to see the accounts?” Elizabeth asked, moving toward her window desk to retrieve the ledger, buying her father time.
“No need,” replied Mr. Voles. “The monies have already been seized and deducted from the debt.”
Elizabeth froze, and Darcy thought he saw the color draining from her face. “It is not enough.”
Mr. Voles was pleased to inform her otherwise. “To the contrary, the sum went a long way in reducing the debt, though I regret to say it was not sufficient to satisfy the full amount.”
Mr. Bennet’s hand shook as he reached for his glass and raised it to his lips. He did not look at Elizabeth, who stared at him with her jaw open, her breath quick and shaking.
Darcy’s place was with Mr. Bennet, but one look at Elizabeth altered his plans.
Supporting Mr. Bennet’s arm, he assisted him out of his chair, offering the gentleman no alternative but to lead the way to the stables and take their distressing callers with him.
As soon as he had herded them through the door, he turned to Elizabeth.
Skin ashen, she sank into her father’s abandoned chair and buried her face in her hands. Tears spilled through her fingers.
Without a word, Darcy poured her a glass of brandy. Kneeling at her side, he held it in front of her lips. “Drink slowly,” he said softly, pulling his handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbing her cheeks dry.
She grabbed the handkerchief and swiped angrily at her skin, nearly upsetting the glass as she did.
“He promised he would move our income. He promised, he spent a day in town, and still he could not trouble himself to act on our behalf.” She swallowed hard.
“What you must think of us…” She left her sentence unfinished, reaching instead for the brandy.
Darcy let her take it from him, understanding her need to act on her own. “I have nothing but the utmost respect for you.”
She took a sip, coughed, and then took another. A fire in her eyes gleamed, adding color to her complexion. He took the glass, fearing she might smash it, so impassioned did she appear. “For me. Not for my father.”
“It does not matter what I think of him. It serves no purpose,” Darcy said cautiously.
The sound of laughter spilled from the drawing room, and Elizabeth glanced at the door with a fierce scowl. He rose to his feet and closed the door as far as he dared.
No sooner had he turned to face her than she shot to her feet and began pacing behind her father’s desk.
“I am so…” She balled her hands into fists, her nostrils flared, and she looked for all the world like she wished to scream.
Standing opposite her, Darcy waited for her to continue.
“If I did not manage Longbourn, we would truly have nothing. Me and my sisters, my mother…” She took a deep breath, her tone bitter with disappointment.
“He would do nothing to improve our prospects or prepare for our futures once he is gone. All these years, I thought he indulged me, allowed me greater freedom.” Her voice cracked.
“I really thought he would keep this promise. I trusted him.” Her chin quivered and she buried her face in Darcy’s handkerchief.
Feeling inept and helpless, Darcy stood on the other side of the desk.
He considered pouring her more brandy or sending for tea, then instantly dismissed those ideas.
Not knowing what else to do but moved to do something, he rounded the desk and wrapped his arms around her trembling body.
He felt her tense, then relax, and then the sobs intensified.
The floodgates had been let loose. Fearing he had made the wrong choice, he shifted his weight away until he felt the pull of her grip against the lapels of his coat, holding him in place.
Shifting forward, he pressed his cheek against the top of her head and held her, wishing he could make all of her worries disappear, longing to comfort her when seeing her at her worst. Still, she was the most marvelous woman he had ever known.
He loved her. The realization gave him purpose even as it multiplied his guilt. He had the gift of insight into her true character, tested under duress, and what did she have of him? She did not even know his real name. Could she return his affection, knowing what he had done?
She stilled, and Darcy instinctively loosened his embrace. When she stepped away, his chest was damp and cold. She looked embarrassed, and it pained him that his presence brought her discomfort. “Mr. Robinson, I…my apologies…”
He extended his hand to her, his eyes urging her to accept his gesture.
Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his. Stepping closer, he placed their joined hands against his heart.
“I will not abuse your confidence. Nothing you have said to me or done in my presence will be used against you by me, on my honor.” She raised her head slightly.
“Furthermore, I wish for you to understand that the difficulties I see you traversing have not lessened you in my estimation. To the contrary, I think very highly of you.”
Her eyes locked on his. They might have been standing on the London wharf surrounded by shouting crowds, and Darcy would have felt they were the only two people in existence. Her lips parted, and he became overwhelmingly aware of their plumpness. Her breath went shallow.
A tap rapped against the door, and the barrier swung open.
“Lizzy? What are you doing in here with Mr. Robinson?” Miss Bennet looked accusingly between the two of them, leaving Darcy to wonder just how much she had seen or heard.
They were standing close. Too close. Tears stained Elizabeth’s cheeks, and her hair was disheveled where his cheek had pressed against it.
“Mr. Robinson was leaving to join Papa at the stables,” Elizabeth said, dismissing him and facing her disapproving sister.
Darcy did as he was bid, the consequences of his behavior sitting like salt in an open wound that intensified when he heard Wickham’s laughter floating down the hall on his way out of the house.