Here's Chapter 11! It's a bit shorter but full of Darcy :D As always, this is an unedited first draft. I can say confidently that it has become a novel now though, I'm guestimating between 50-60k. All errors are my own! Also, thank you to Harmless Guest for pointing out my misspelling of Lambton. I've fixed it! And if there's anything I've messed up with the horses, please let me know.
Chapter 11
"Worthless swine," Richard muttered as they led their horses from Lord Lambton's stable.
"He has given us leave to have patrols upon his portion of the turnpike," Mr. Darcy said.
"Patrols he ought to organize himself." Richard spat at the ground.
Mr. Darcy could not disagree. The old Baron, this one's father, would have done exactly that. He also would not have raised the taxes on his tenets to continue supporting a habit for gambling and drink. The previous year's shearing and harvest had been above average, but Darcy wondered what would happen in a less bountiful year.
They mounted and rode together from Baron Lambton's expansive estate. After having spent the past two days traveling to pay visit to the neighboring gentry and lords, Darcy and Col. Fitzwilliam discovered a clear, if upsetting, picture of the raider's patterns. Most of their activity center in this area of Derbyshire.
When Darcy had explained that they discovered to Baron Lambton, a short, broad shouldered man near Darcy's age with a gut from beer fine tailoring only did so much to hide. The young Lord had been more interested in poking holes in what they had discovered than addressing the problem. While had Darcy held his temper, he wanted to shake the man.
"Let us pay call to the Parish Constable before returning to Pemberley," Darcy suggested.
They did so, finding the constable on his farm. Constable Tully was of middling height and muscular with silver dusting his brown beard and temples. His nose had been broken more than once and a front tooth was chipped.
After settling in the parlor, Darcy explained what he had learned, namely the bandits' theft of jewelry and coin, the range of their activities, and warning of the emerging pattern.
"Troubling," the constable said. He had changed to speak with Mr. Darcy and the colonel. The coat, of fine make though many seasons out of fashion, was a touch too narrow for his shoulders, The sleeves ended a quarter of an inch above the bone of his wrist.
Darcy and Richard went over what they had learned, and the three of them discussed their options.
"Two in our village have received the brand," Constable Tully said, cracking his prominent knuckles. "One hothead attempted to burn down the barn of a man who had slept with his wife, and the other was sent for poaching. This was years ago, before I became constable here. Both are long in the tooth for robbing carriages, and I've had my eye on them since these rumors of bandits and highwayman. I do not believe they are responsible."
Col. Fitzwilliam said, "While there may be a few hotheads among these criminals, the group is organized and cunning. They follow the Royal Mail schedules and understand of the habits of the gentry in these parts."
Darcy nodded. "And they are smart enough not to prey upon the same road too often. They must have horses. Horses require feed and care. It is the same with the jewelry. Stealing gold is sensible. A gold piece or pound note cannot be directly traced back to its owner. But jewelry is easier to trace.
"If they are sheltering in the woods, some will wish to make benefit of their ill-gotten gains. We must look for men come into sudden windfall. A young man with too much to gamble. Or a young wife recently acquiring an exquisite brooch. If they are local, they will not keep their newly gained wealth a secret for long.
Richard, drawing on his own experience on the front, sketched out a map and marked the locations of previous attacks. was nearly complete when someone beat on the door to his home.
A minute later, Constable Tully's wife, a stout woman with an apron tied around her waist, knocked at the parlor door, "Constable Tully, visitors. Miss Gibbs, Miss Darcy, Miss [Lavinia] and a Miss Bennet– –."
"Send them in," Darcy said, glancing at the parish Constable who also nodded.
What trouble had his sister and Miss Elizabeth gotten into now? Had he not told her to stay upon their lands?
Elizabeth came in with Rosalind and two other girls. Darcy recognized the Miller's daughter, but not the third. A tenant's daughter by the look of her clothing. Elizabeth carried a bundle of folded canvas.
All three men stood and bowed.
The three girls curtsied and Elizabeth bent her knees, gripping the canvas bundle with both hands.
"We found this at Mr. Carlisle's well," Elizabeth said. "It is..." She glanced at the table where Richard had drawn out his map. "It would be best if we showed you."
Richard pulled the map aside. Elizabeth and the three young women walked to the table. Elizabeth unfolded the canvas, revealing a jumbled mix of jewelry and coin.
"We found it at the Old Mr. Carlisle well," Rose said. "I knew the wailing woman had left treasure. It was her husband's treasure, was it not, Sarah?"
The third girl, her face pinched and hands shaking, said, "That was just a story. From Sarah's imagination."
"Can we keep it?" Rose asked. "Some of the jewelry at least. It is so pretty."
Before Darcy or any of the others could speak, Elizabeth said, "No." She looked at Constable Tully. "With rumors of highwayman in these parts, I thought it best to bring to you, to see if any of these pieces match the items stolen."
Darcy listened, but his attention was focused on her first words. The old Carlisle well. He said, "Mr. Carlisle's farm is not on our lands."
Rose said, "Miss Lavinia took us. We were visiting Miss Gibbs for the afternoon, and we agreed to search for the wailing well."
"Miss Bennet, I told you to stay on our own lands and restrict your walks an exercise to the premises, did I not?" Had she not understood? No, Miss Elizabeth Bennet might be rash, but she was not stupid.
"Miss Rose was paying visit to a friend," Elizabeth said. "There seemed little harm in allowing them scope for their imagination."
Miss Elizabeth had ignored him. Mr. Darcy saw red. "When I give an order, I expected to be obeyed."
Elizabeth's face colored. "You are not my master."
"You are a servant in my home. Perhaps Mrs. Darcy's warmth towards you has made you lose sight of your place."
Elizabeth paled. She took a step back. Her hands and shoulders shook.
No clever rejoinder or angry set-down. It reminded Darcy of the painted eggshell. Charming and seemingly hard, but with too much pressure, they cracked.
Mr. Darcy felt like a prime ass. All he wanted was for her and Rose to be safe. How could she not understand that? Highwayman aside, skulking around abandoned well was dangerous. Elizabeth was so reckless. First, leaving her home, chasing an ideal of love and diminishing herself as a servant. Again, tromping about on her own, risking accident and murder, for what, a game?
Elizabeth said, "I was in error."
Her voice was flat.
Rose took her hand. "Miss Bennet?"
"Too many kindnesses have led me to a flawed impression of my place in your household. Your brother is correct. We should not have gone together to that well."
Elizabeth held her arms over her stomach, curling the fingers of her left hand around her wrist. Darcy remembered the warmth of her skin against his. She had smelled of lavender. He had wanted to kiss her, but held himself back.
How had she gotten so under his skin?
Miss Elizabeth had seemed unremarkable at first, but at her first clever set-down, even at his own expense, the lady had captivated Mr. Darcy.
They had danced, and she teased him for his lack of conversation. Darcy was not much for conversation, but it hadn't been his nature that silenced him, but desire. She had made a fool of him without even noticing, and like a fool, he had carried his desire with him to his aunt's at Rosings' Park, only to find Miss Elizabeth absent. Miss Jane Bennet, the sister Darcy had acknowledged as the handsomest in the room, had been a poor replacement.
The torture of missing Miss Elizabeth Bennet was nothing compared to that of her presence. As a servant, he could not court her. He could reveal his feelings, and he could not marry her. All he could do was hurt her.
"I only wish to prevent harm to those I care for," Mr. Darcy said.
"I understand," Elizabeth said, but Mr. Darcy was certain she did not.
Mr. Darcy cared for Miss Elizabeth Bennet more than he ought.
Constable Tully fingered through the jewels and coins. Tossed amongst the valuables was a thin, wooden disc the size of a Thrupenny Bit. Carved in the middle was a V. Constable Tully held it up to the open window. "Odd," he said.
Miss Lavinia wrung her hands together. "It is near quarter to three. Me mum said to be home at half three to help her with the babes before supper."
"Yes, we had best return to the Gibbs. Mrs. Darcy wishes to return for us at half three. I would prefer not to be late."
"I will accompany you," Mr. Darcy said.
Richard looked over at him, furrowing his brow. "I believe the young ladies will be fine for such a short excursion."
"I will be a little use here. Let me know what you and the constable decide."
Elizabeth gathered all three girls. By dint of a well-placed question or two, they chattered amongst themselves. Elizabeth making the occasional interjection while Darcy walked behind them feeling very much like the hind end of an energetic beast.
Thank you for reading! I'll have the next chapter up soon!
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