Next chapter!

Chapter 29

Darcy did not do well with crying. Nor did he enjoy having his sister and her governess dispatch, admittedly with great efficiency, their witness and culprit.

But it had been extraordinary to watch. Miss Elizabeth Bennet, without even the slightest sign of panic, had tripped the boy. Had she suspected him?

Elizabeth had put herself and his sister in harm's way, and Darcy ought to have been furious. He was furious. Furious, enamored and breathtakingly smitten.

If Miss Bennet had suspected the boy, why had she not told him?

To set aside his growing fondness for her at Netherfield, he had pushed her away. Their kiss. His treatment of her after. All of it has painted him as a man without softness of mind or heart.

He was fortune she had not rejected his invitation to dance outright.

John's father threw himself at Darcy's feet, begging for his son's life. Darcy wanted to assure the man they would give his son the church's mercy, the brand upon his thumb, and a second chance, but he first had to ensure the boy told them all he knew about the others.

Darcy had no doubt this was the scared child who had taken a blow defending Mrs. Reynolds. That and his tearful remorse mitigated Darcy's anger. But he could not let the others flee. Darcy drew himself to his full height, placing his hands behind his back and looking down at the tearful father and son. "That depends entirely upon what your son does next," he said, his tone was as flat and disinterested as he could manage.

"John will tell you everything," the father promised. "Tell these gentlemen everything. Them and the constable."

After gathering up the fallen box of broken tarts, Elizabeth took Rose and encouraged Mrs. Stewart to bring her other children inside the house.

Inside, in the sitting room, Lavinia wrung her skirts, kneading and pinching them, head bowed. "I should have said something," she said. "John did not tell me what he had done, but I knew he was mixed up in something terrible. Luke was trouble, and I told John to stay away from him. But…" Lavinia shook her head again. "Mama, I am so sorry."

Lavinia's mother sat on a stool, hugging the toddler in her arms. The little boy squirmed, but Mrs. Stewart would not release him.

Elizabeth said, "Your brother was the best of them. I will make certain Mr. Darcy and the colonel know that." Whether it would help, Elizabeth was uncertain. She had seen kindness in Mr. Darcy, but he was also cruel, especially in the pursuit of what he considered duty.

Outside, John rattled off a list of names and places; most were stories he had heard from the other men. "This was my second time. The first time, I was look out. I knew it was wrong, but I was just keeping a watch. And they said they would not hurt anyone. They will kill me when they find out I told. Me and my family. They will burn our farm to the ground."

Mr. Stewart put his hand on his son's shoulder. "Constable Tully and his men will keep them from hurting anybody else. You tell them everything you know. Everything."

Once the boy confessed, it was a mad rush of activity, and Darcy did not have the chance to speak with Elizabeth about what she had known of what happened.

Col. Fitzwilliam stayed with John and his father while Darcy rode to get Constable Tully. From there, they took the boy and his father to the parsonage. Under the eyes of the parson, all remaining stubbornness in the boy dissolved, and he went over again everything he had told them and more.

"Redshanks is in charge, and he has two others that are his wings: Chiffchaff and Goldeneye. We—they all go by bird names. Sandpiper. Cormorant. Yellowhammer. I was Sparrow because I was smallest. Goldeneye has a gold tooth and taps it when he smiles. You wouldn't tell him from the poorest peasant 'til he smiles."

"Did they ever use their surnames?" Constable Tully asked.

John shook his head. "I knew Luke 'cause he brought me in. There is also Magpie. He came from London with Redshanks. They put him in charge durin' the raids. He signals what to do. Posts himself up as well-to-do: fine clothes, boots shined. When he 'ent singin', he whines how the Darcys stole his legacy."

The hair on Mr. Darcy's arms rose. "Is he fair?"

"Yes. Gold hair and soft hands. He knows all about the local gentry and their habits, but he will'na dirty his hands with the raidin'. Just stands aside and pretends at givin' orders. Dunno why Redshanks lets him get by with such lollygagging." John shrugged. "Redshanks and his wings did'na tell us much. They use people like me and Luke, but they give the orders.

"Luke said they must have people at the postin' stations. We was supposed to avoid carriages with your seal, but Magpie got agitated, talkin' about catchin' a Georgie. Chiffchaff was sick with a bad cough. The wet kind that makes you hug your chest and feel like you'll spew up all your guts. He would take lookout, which was what I had to…" John hugged himself, leaning over his knees as his breath came faster. "When the lady told Cormorant she hadn't any jewels or money, he hit 'er. He would've hit 'er again, but I got between 'em. She weren't any lady. She wore a servant's clothes, and she had a servant's hands. Lye stains from scrubbin'. You can see it in the hands."

It was Wickham. It had to be. He wanted revenge for the slight, now that Mr. Darcy no longer supported his debauchery.

Considering Wickham's ability to draw up debts, it did not surprise Darcy the man had once again put himself in lean times. He had returned to help these robbers. It infuriated Darcy but did not surprise him. After Wickham's treatment of Georgiana, nothing ill about the man could surprise Darcy.

"Unless Redshanks or the others catch him, Magpie will fly off. He is lazy and a coward to boot. He will run."

Darcy nodded.

Wickham would run. When not forcing others to pay for his mistakes, he did his best to outrun them.

Constable Tully asked, "Where do they camp?"

"Depends. It changed. Luke'd get a note and we'd go. But Luke's dead, and all'a Lambton knows you and I have been talkin'. They will'na contact me. Probably, they have migrated to friendlier places. Redshanks had already been uncomfortable with the added patrols and the horns. If it wasn't for losin' the trove at Old Carlisle's, they would'a moved on already. Or at least, that is what Luke heard Redshanks whisperin' to Goldeneye, a week back."

Constable Tully said, "At the least, we can look at the places you met them. Maybe they left something that will tell us where they might go next."

XYXYXYX

Thank you for reading! Next chapter tomorrow~

Best,
V