Twenty-Six
Ashbourne
Darcy
"You will hand over the documents now, else..."
The voice carried clearly through the closed door.
Darcy recognised it at once as Mrs. Vane's, though the gentleness she had displayed at the Kingsleys' gathering had vanished.
There was authority in her tone now, and a coldness that called to mind the pleasant composure with which she had first spoken to him.
He stood beside the entrance while Colonel Fitzwilliam prepared to force the door, his pistol drawn as a precaution.
Colonel Forster and the sergeant accompanying him had already subdued the coachmen outside, quietly and with remarkable efficiency.
Much to Darcy's surprise, the fellows had scarcely known what was upon them before they were overpowered, bound, and gagged.
"I would see my payment before I hand them over," Wickham replied from within. His voice carried easily through the thin wooden door. "I have taken the greater risk, and I shall not be cheated of what was promised."
"You are in no position to make demands."
"Then perhaps I shall take the papers elsewhere. There are others who would pay handsomely for what they contain."
A silence followed. Darcy imagined Mrs. Vane considering the threat, calculating whether Wickham possessed sufficient resolve to carry it into effect.
The packet contained nothing that could injure him or his family, though Wickham had been instructed to speak of it as though it held letters, accounts, and private memoranda stolen from Pemberley.
Colonel Fitzwilliam glanced at Darcy. At his cousin's nod, he lifted his boot and drove it against the lock.
The wood splintered beneath the blow. The door flew inward, and Colonel Fitzwilliam entered at once with his pistol raised.
"Do not move!"
Darcy followed him into the cottage, with Colonel Forster and the sergeant close behind.
The small parlour was dim despite the fire burning in the grate, for heavy clouds obscured what remained of the afternoon light.
Wickham stood near the hearth with the packet clutched in one hand, precisely where he had been instructed to stand.
Should Mrs. Vane betray the least suspicion, he was to threaten to cast the packet into the fire and force her hand.
Opposite him, Mrs. Vane had turned sharply towards the broken doorway.
Beside her stood a man Darcy did not recognise, his hand already moving towards the inside of his coat.
Colonel Fitzwilliam aimed his pistol directly at him.
"I should advise against it."
The stranger's hand became still.
"Remove it slowly," Colonel Forster commanded. "Two fingers only."
The man obeyed, drawing a small pistol from inside his coat and lowering it carefully to the floor. The sergeant stepped forward, kicked the weapon beyond reach, and seized him by the arm.
"Hale, I presume," Colonel Fitzwilliam said.
The man gave no answer, but the fleeting change in his expression was sufficient confirmation.
Mrs. Vane looked from Darcy to Wickham, and understanding settled over her features. Her surprise lasted only an instant. She drew herself upright, adjusted one glove with deliberate care, and regarded Wickham with undisguised contempt.
"So," she said. "You betrayed me."
Wickham attempted a shrug, though the movement appeared strained beneath Colonel Forster's watchful gaze. "I had little choice."
"There is always a choice."
"Spoken like a woman who has never stood within sight of the gallows."
Mrs. Vane's mouth curved into a faint smile. "Do not deceive yourself, Mr. Wickham. You did not act from fear of the gallows. You acted with no sense of loyalty."
Wickham turned towards Colonel Forster. "I have done what was required of me. You heard her. She came for the papers. There are sufficient witnesses."
"And you shall receive whatever consideration your assistance merits," Colonel Forster replied. His tone suggested that the consideration might prove rather less than Wickham hoped. "Sergeant."
The sergeant took the packet from Wickham before securing his wrists. Wickham submitted without protest, though resentment darkened his countenance as he was moved to the far side of the room beside Hale.
Mrs. Vane watched him for a moment before turning her attention to Darcy. There was no fear in her expression. He had imagined this meeting many times during the preceding days, but never had he expected her to receive defeat with such composure.
"You went to a great deal of trouble," she said.
"You left us little alternative."
"I left you a great many alternatives, Mr. Darcy. You simply failed to perceive them."
"You arranged for Mrs. Younge to enter my household under false references. You employed Wickham to gather intelligence concerning my family and estate. Then you directed him towards my sister."
Mrs. Vane's gaze did not waver.
"Now that I think of it, you must also have contrived my invitation to the Kingsleys' ball. I do not yet know your purpose in that, but it proved a grave mistake. That, and ever involving my sister in your schemes."
"Your sister survived," she said.
Darcy shifted beside his cousin, but Richard lifted one hand to restrain him.
"She was fifteen," Darcy said
"Yes," Mrs. Vane replied. "About the age at which one should learn that wealth and consequence cannot protect every member of the Darcy family."
The calmness with which she spoke made his anger more difficult to master.
"She had done nothing to you."
A flicker passed over Mrs. Vane's face, the first crack in her composure. It vanished almost at once.
"Neither had I."
Darcy studied her. "What is that supposed to mean?"
She looked towards Colonel Forster.
"Am I to be questioned here, or shall you convey me directly before the nearest magistrate?"
"You will answer Mr. Darcy," Colonel Forster said. "Your answers may spare us the trouble of obtaining them from others."
"Others?" Her glance travelled briefly towards Hale and Wickham.
"Mrs. Younge has already told us a great deal."
For the first time, Mrs. Vane's composure deserted her. Her eyes narrowed, and some of the colour left her face.
"You found her."
"You believed this affair rested solely upon Wickham?" Colonel Fitzwilliam said. "Had you resisted the temptation to seek out Darcy at the Kingsleys', you might have escaped suspicion for a while longer. But you could not resist, could you?"
"I wished to see for myself what remained of the head of the Darcy family."
"Well, Mrs. Younge proved rather more forthcoming than you expected," Colonel Fitzwilliam replied. "She told us of the forged references, of her placement at Pemberley, and of the plans made against Miss Darcy. She also informed us that every instruction came from you."
Mrs. Vane released a quiet breath. "She never possessed the fortitude to do what was necessary."
"But she possessed sufficient fortitude to endure what you drew her into."
"I compelled her to do nothing."
"No?" Darcy said. "You merely sought out the weaknesses of others and employed them for your own ends.
Wickham's greed and envy, Mrs. Younge's desperation, and the desire of every man you have used in this plot of yours.
You made instruments of them whilst remaining hidden, leaving them to bear all the danger. "
"And yet you have not asked the proper question."
"I know what you did," Darcy said
Mrs. Vane smiled. "But you do not know why."
Darcy felt Richard's attention turn towards him. Colonel Forster remained silent, though his bearing showed that nothing escaped his notice.
"I am sorry to disappoint you," Darcy said evenly, "but I believe I do."
For the space of a single breath, Mrs. Vane's shoulders lost their careful set, and then, just as quickly, recovered it.
"It concerns your father, does it not?" Darcy watched her closely and caught the slight flinch she could not suppress. "Mr. Thomas Hartley."
Her lips parted, but no reply came.
"And you were Eleanor Hartley," Darcy continued, "his only daughter."
A disdainful smile touched her lips. "Bravo, Mr. Darcy. You are more perceptive than most men."
During the past few days, Darcy had searched his memory for every particular contained in the records he had examined after succeeding to Pemberley.
He would gladly have returned to the estate to consult them again, or sent for the papers themselves, but time had not permitted either course, and there had always been the danger that any unusual movement might reach Mrs. Vane through eyes they had not yet uncovered.
He remembered the matter only because it had struck him as singular when first he read it. There had been records of Thomas Hartley's dealings, the legal proceedings that followed, and a brief note in his father's hand lamenting the unhappy manner of Hartley's death.
"Your father defrauded his partners and creditors. Mine uncovered the fraud and gave evidence against him."
"My father," Mrs. Vane cried, her composure breaking at last, "made mistakes."
"He falsified his accounts."
"He sought to preserve an estate that had been declining for years."
"By taking money that did not belong to him."
Mrs. Vane's fingers tightened upon the edge of the table between them.
"Your father might have settled the matter privately.
He might have allowed mine time to dispose of his lands and satisfy his creditors without exposing every particular before the county.
Instead, he pursued him through the courts and ensured that his disgrace was complete. "
"My father acted according to the law."
"How comforting that must be."
Her voice had sharpened at last. Though she still held herself erect, bitterness had broken through the composure she had maintained for so long.