Page 2 of Losing Lizzy
Darcy caught the edge of the door and gave it a good shove, sending the butler stumbling backward. “Fitzwilliam!” he called, using his shoulder to barrel his way into the foyer.
From above, he heard his cousin cry out, “What the—?”
Darcy paused from his exertion to look up. “Why are you acting as master of my house?” he demanded.
His cousin caught hard at the railing. “My God, Darcy. It is you.”
“Most assuredly, it is I.” He started for the stairs, but two unfamiliar footmen stepped before him. “Have you removed all who once served me?” he questioned, a scowl of disapproval forming on his features.
Fitzwilliam gestured the servants from his way. “Permit Mr. Darcy admittance,” his cousin instructed. “After all, as he says, this is his house.”
As Darcy climbed the stairs, never removing his eyes from his cousin, he ordered, “Mr. Jones, if you expect to retain your position, bring me a small meal and a proper cup of tea, and do so quickly.”
“Yes, sir,” the man called as he scrambled away.
Fitzwilliam appeared as stunned as was Darcy. There was no embrace of emotions. Only something that appeared like regret upon the colonel’s features showed. “Lead on, Cousin,” Darcy said through tight lips, a feeling of betrayal settling in his chest. “I am most eager to hear your explanations.”
Without uttering a word, Fitzwilliam turned crisply upon his heels and preceded Darcy into the study. In anger, Darcy purposely closed the door behind them.
His cousin crossed to the tray holding a decanter of brandy. “May I pour you a drink?”
Darcy eyed the room. Subtle changes had been made in the furnishings of the room. At least all he held dear had not been set aside. “I will pass. I fear I will require a clear head to understand what has gone on in my absence.”
Fitzwilliam turned toward him, his features grim. His cousin was a man Darcy had always trusted, but, now, he wondered if he had made a serious mistake in judgment. “It is not as this must first appear,” his cousin pleaded. “What I have done, I did so to protect your interests and your sister.”
Darcy thought to assume the chair behind the desk, but, rather, he chose the two wing chairs before the hearth. “I am willing to listen, but know, I have recently been in the company of Captain Robert Bruester, who had heard from his family that Matlock has attempted to have me declared dead.”
“Bruester? I thought him at sea,” Fitzwilliam remarked as he joined Darcy before the empty hearth. The colonel studied Darcy carefully.
“He was. As was I until I managed to escape the pirate ship upon which I have been held for nearly four years.” He nodded to his cousin. “Was my uncle successful? Must I begin my return to the world by proving I am truly alive?”
“A pirate ship? My God, Darcy! I would never have thought you had been caught by a press gang. We assumed you had been robbed and tossed into the Thames.”
Darcy held himself very stiff. “It is not that I object to making an explanation regarding my capture and my escape, but I require some answers from you first.”
Fitzwilliam nodded his agreement. With a heavy sigh, he began, “We were all at sixes and sevens when you did not show at your wedding.”
Darcy wished to ask of Elizabeth, but his first task was to learn where his father’s legacy stood before he could inquire of Elizabeth Bennet’s fate.
“What did you do?”
If Fitzwilliam had expected Darcy to ask of Elizabeth, the colonel quickly hid his curiosity. He permitted Darcy to dictatetheir conversation. “Georgiana and I returned to London, and I began to trace your steps. The day your sister and I departed for Netherfield, you were to retrieve Miss Elizabeth’s ring from the jeweler. That is where I began.”
“And you discovered?” Darcy questioned.
“Very much what I shared a moment ago. I employed the services of my friend Thomas Cowan, who you might recall was a former Bow Street Runner. He and I called upon the jeweler, whose assistant told us two men were seen following you when you exited the shop.”
Darcy wished he had paid more attention on that particular day, but his head was full of memories of Elizabeth Bennet, and he belatedly realized he had not practiced caution. “Why was not an alarm raised?”
“A series of excuses, but none worth pursuing,” his cousin said with a frown. “The jeweler and his assistant each blamed the other for not performing as they should have. When we departed the jeweler, Cowan suggested we search the docks and question those who were employed there. One of your tasks that day was to see to a shipment in which you and father had invested.”
“That was my destination,” Darcy admitted, but he listened carefully to hear what the colonel left out of his tale.
“We learned of two ships that departed the night you left the jewelers. I spoke to everyone who would share information; yet, there were no substantial leads as to your whereabouts.”
Darcy remembered how the men who had caught him had struck him repeatedly until he had gone unconscious. When he finally woke up,The Lost Sparrowwas departing the docks, but not those in London. He had been transported further down the Thames to somewhere in Kent.
Fitzwilliam continued, “Cowan located the ring and the cane in a pawn shop, and we traced the items back to the man who pawned them. He swore he found them behind some crates near the docks.”
