21. 21 November 1811 #2
Richard swiftly answered, forestalling Darcy.
“We are attempting to find the source of the recent untrue gossip about Miss Elizabeth Bennet. My mother, the Countess of Matlock, has always told me to talk to many people in an attempt to find from whom each person heard the rumour. I know from your reputation, Sir William, that you would be astute enough to know that the gossip is a pack of lies, but pray tell, did you hear that this gossip is circulating from one of your sons or daughters? From your wife? From a servant?”
Sir William’s smile had disappeared, but he seemed thrilled.
He said, “The Countess of Matlock! What an honour, to meet her son! You are correct—I well know the stories to be inaccurate, and when I tell you that it was my wife who informed me, I wish to make sure that you understand that I told her not to believe this scurrilous nonsense and certainly never to spread it!”
He paused to take a breath but jumped into more words before either man could say anything: “I am very glad that someone is attempting to stem the tide of this poison. We all know that Miss Elizabeth is every inch a lady, and we know that you, Mr Goulding, are an honourable young man.” He nodded to Goulding but then hastened on: “As I said, my wife told it—but she told all of us at the dinner table. I not only warned her, I warned all my children that it was the sort of malicious rumour that could destroy lives. I told them it was almost surely untrue and tasked them to ignore or stand against such ugliness, rather than spreading it.”
“Thank you, Sir William,” Goulding said.
Darcy spoke up, addressing John Lucas, “Mr Lucas, was this dinnertime conversation with your mother the first time you heard about the rumours, as well?”
“Yes, sir. And my father did give everyone an earful of why none of us ought to spread the story. Just as he said.” Darcy looked him in the eyes and judged the man honest and straightforward.
Richard asked, “Sir William, Do you suppose we could meet your wife and eldest daughter, so that we can learn where they first heard the rumour?”
“Delighted to introduce you to them, indeed, indeed!” The man bounded up from his chair and ushered his guests into a large, pleasant sitting room. He rang for a servant, murmured to the maid who appeared, and was soon introducing Lady Lucas and Miss Charlotte Lucas to Darcy and Richard.
“And of course, you know Mr Goulding,” Sir William finished off. For the first time, Darcy realised that John Lucas had remained behind in the study.
Everyone curtseyed and bowed, murmured correct words, and then sat.
Everyone except Darcy. He had a strong feeling that they had to question the women without Sir William’s ebullient presence. He stood even taller and straighter than before, and he schooled his tone to be dismissive as he firmly said, “Thank you, Sir William.”
Sir William had been in the act of taking a seat, but when Darcy spoke as if he was issuing a dismissal to a servant, he stood straight again and said, “Oh, yes…. Well, good luck with your efforts.”
To make up for his arrogant attitude, Darcy said warmly, “Thank you. I hope we can count on your continued support and discretion?”
“You can indeed!” the man said, smiling even more widely than Bingley’s typical smile. Sir William sidled to the door, bowed once more, and finally left. At that point, Darcy finally sat.
One of these two ladies probably started the damned attack, Darcy thought. He was not sure what the most effective interrogation tactic would be, and he glanced at Richard.
Richard’s eyes met his, and it was not so much his cousin as the colonel who nodded and turned to the women with an air of authority.
“Madam, miss, we know the rumours about Miss Elizabeth and Mr Goulding are fabrications.
We imagine that one of you said something motivated by irritation or envy—something that you had not meant to grow and change to the ugliness that we became aware of this morning.
Miss Lucas began to cry. She said nothing, but instead covered her eyes with one arm and buried her face in the other. Eventually sobs could be heard.
Lady Lucas gasped, “It was not true?
Her daughter did not answer.
“I was so certain—” Lady Lucas started. “I never thought….”
“I am so sorry Mr Goulding,” Miss Lucas finally whispered.
Goulding looked affronted, and Darcy thought to intercede, but then he saw the young man take a deep breath, turn towards Lady Lucas, and ask with an even tone of voice, “Lady Lucas, can you help spread the word that the rumour was wholly without foundation?”
“I certainly will,” she said. She seemed very upset, and Darcy imagined that the trust between mother and daughter was at least strained, if not broken.
“Thank you,” Goulding said, fervently.
The men soon left Lucas Lodge, but before they went their separate ways, Richard said that they should do some “seed planting.”
“I truly believe that Lady Lucas will spread the word that it was all a mistake,” he said, “but we are going to prepare the ground and sow some seeds for that near-future event.”
“Well,” Goulding said, “since I owe you gents everything as to investigating the rumours, I will do whatever you ask.”
Richard asked, “Before we start, let me ask you, where have you been the past few early mornings? And can anyone vouch for your location and activities?”
“Yesterday morning, I rode out for tenant visits with my father and steward at first light. We stayed out until around ten. The day before that I stayed in and ate earlier than usual with my mother, who gets up strangely early these days. She says it is her advancing age. The day before that…. Oh! I remember, I rode by myself, just for exercise, but I did see the Baxters.”
“Very good. When we get to the haberdashery, you and I will have a conversation just like this one, while Darcy dips into the bookstore. I will stay at the haberdashery while you go to the greengrocers, and Darcy and you can have a conversation covering many of these same points.”
Darcy handed some coins to the other men, saying, “I suppose people will look more kindly on lurkers and their conversations if they purchase something.”
“Good thinking.”
They put Richard’s plan into motion, and Darcy felt convinced that both he and Goulding had done a good job of acting natural. He had no worries about Richard, of course—the man was a born actor.
But now—he so badly wished to go to High Cross, but he knew that he should go straight to Netherfield Park, visit with his aunt and uncle, get Crocker’s reports as they came in, and be the helpful guest he had promised to be to Bingley.
Richard and Darcy said cordial farewells to Goulding and rode to Netherfield—their horses ready for a good rubbing down, bran mash, and plenty of water; and the men eager for baths and fresh clothes before dinner.
“I believe we will have a perfectly delightful time spinning all of this for my mother and father!” Richard said before they parted.
“Yes,” Darcy sighed. “A jolly good time.”