Dear Happy Lizzy, Shelby66, Leleia, Colleen, Dizzy Lizzy, Kiwipride, Nanciellen, Jansfamily4, Malous66, ChrisM0519, Chuck Kimball, Mangosmum, Levenez, Joan, Joan G Brand, Motherof8 and guests,

Thank you for the lovely comments. I've read them and they kept me motivated.

Sorry for not posting yesterday. We had free transport in Sydney for about 15 days and I went for a ferry ride to the beach, had fish and chips, a good walk up the hill, etc. It was a wonderfully warm day with gorgeous weather. I didn't manage to edit the chapter and post. But here it is without further delay.

Happy reading and do leave me some comments. They are food for my thoughts. And happy holiday!


Chapter Three

Fitzwilliam Darcy was going through the estate's accounts at Darcy House in London when a letter was delivered. A poorly written ransom letter demanded two thousand pounds be delivered to a location at Rotherhithe within four hours in exchange for Mr. George Darcy's life!

Fitzwilliam had taken over his father's duty for nearly three years. Pemberley was ten times larger than Aberteifi Park, in size, in the number of tenants and servants. It had been a struggle at first. Fitzwilliam would second-guess every one of his own decision. Frank, unfortunately, was not of much help. His childhood friend would urge him to leave the decisions to the steward Mr. John Wickham. Churchill would often argue what the point of hiring a steward was if not to leave the master to enjoy life to the fullest. In the three years he had been away in Wales, Fitzwilliam didn't realise that Churchill had grown into such a trifling fellow. Some of the pursuits Frank mentioned in his correspondence to Fitzwilliam when he was in Aberteifi Park sounded like fun. But when Fitzwilliam had disputes among Pemberley tenants, flooded fields and illness with servants to handle, he didn't need Frank to nag him to ride to London together for a hair cut! Their friendship had cool and Fitzwilliam felt entirely alone in this world.

This was the first time in three years Fitzwilliam had come to London. He finally felt himself a competent master of Darcy's fortune. There was also his father to consider. George Darcy had left Pemberley three years ago, searching for his purpose in life. Besides the occasional short letters of his location, Mr. Darcy hadn't told Fitzwilliam much of his life. Fitzwilliam took it upon himself to request Gordon, Mr. Darcy's valet, to provide more detailed accounts of his father's well-being.

Gordon was reluctant to betray Mr. Darcy's privacy at first; but as Mr. Darcy became more erratic, Gordon's reports to Fitzwilliam became longer and longer.

When Mr. Darcy was drunk, he would murmur that Lady Anne was still angry at him and he needed to put her soul at ease. Mr. Darcy could count the number of times he had a good night's sleep on his hands in the past years. He was considering finding a way to reconnect with his wife. He needed desperately to communicate with his dead wife!

A few months ago, Fitzwilliam had learned from Gordon that Mr. Darcy wanted to visit a "great psyche" in Norwich. Fitzwilliam was alarmed and immediately set off to dissuade Mr. Darcy.

"I want to visit the psychic on Clover Hill. Your grandfather once visited to speak to his dead sister. I want to have a conversation with your mother. Maybe I would be at peace. Maybe hearing her voice again will bring me bliss." Mr. Darcy said.

"Mother was gone forever, and we both knew that, didn't we? Talking to her was impossible. Please, Father, do not venture down his path!" Fitzwilliam begged his father. George Darcy asked Fitzwilliam to leave him be after their argument. Maybe the death of a loved one could harm one's mental health. If that was the case, Fitzwilliam never wanted to fall in love.

Mr. Darcy left the rented house early the following day. Fitzwilliam followed and rode a reasonable distance behind him. Keeping up with his father was a little tricky as Mr. Darcy didn't ride like someone who was still grieving but like a young lad who had just learnt riding and was eager to let his hair fly in the wind. After almost three-quarters of an hour, a little cottage came into sight. Fitzwilliam heard his father let out a loud laugh, patting his mother's horse joyfully. Mr. Darcy rode faster and stopped at the entrance of the cottage.

Climbing down from the horse a fair distance away, Fitzwilliam tethered it to a nearby tree and ran stealthily to the back of the tiny cottage. The place was not as bad as Fitzwilliam thought it would be. Still, it looked cosy. An old man with a wizened face sat on a bench in the back garden.

"You are here to speak to a dead relative. Don't ask me how I knew. I can't ignore the sadness surrounding your person. The dead are hanging around and giving you nightmares."

'Sadness surrounding your person' indeed! Fitzwilliam thought. His father's emotion and bags under his eyes were evident to anyone who could see.

"Yes, my dear wife, Lady Anne!" Mr. Darcy exclaimed.

The thin old man said before turning his head to focus on something in front of him in the distance. He beckoned Mr. Darcy to sit down on a chair. Fitzwilliam wondered if the so-called "great psychic" would discover his presence if the man was as skilled as Mr. Darcy had said.

The old man took out a stack of cards and shuffled them.

"What gift would you like to give to your precious wife? I can't summon her spirit without you bringing a gift for her to use in the underworld." The psychic asked, and Mr. Darcy reached into his pocket and pulled out an emerald ring. Fitzwilliam saw the glint of green sparkle and believed it was the one his father gifted his mother on their fifteen wedding anniversary. The psychic asked Mr. Darcy to drop it into a dark bowl on the small table. Judging by the sound Fitzwilliam, the bowl was full of sand.

"Stretch your hands, sir," The psyche put down the cards and said. Mr. Darcy did as he was told. Fitzwilliam had to fight the urge to go inside the garden right there and then and drag his father out.

"Close your eyes and listen." The psychic asked Mr. Darcy to close his eyes, and he chanted some strange spells meant to summon the dead. A gust of smoke blew suddenly from the house's window into the garden and stopped as soon as it came. The psychic sighed and began his chanting again. He stopped soon after and turned to Mr. Darcy.

"Your wife wouldn't speak to you. She sounded too cross, and I was trying to convince her. I told her maybe hearing her voice would help ease your nightmares. She refused. She claimed your gift was worthless. Perhaps you should go home and think about what she loved that was more precious. Maybe she left a few things that she would love to take with her to the underworld." The psychic sighed as a weary man would. Father nodded sadly.

"Please tell her I just want to apologise and the emerald ring is expensive. I am sure it could be exchanged for a large sum for her to live comfortably in the afterworld," Mr. Darcy tried to argue, but the psychic continued to shake his head gently.

Mr. Darcy then looked inside the bowl and his face expressed utter confusion. He looked back at the psychic, who started shuffling his cards again.

"Who took the emerald ring, if my wife didn't want it?" Mr. Darcy asked, and the psychic raised his eyes from his cards to stare at him shortly. The psychic didn't say a word, and he returned to his cards. Fitzwilliam noticed how his father was trying hard not to lose his temper, but he had no choice. The emerald ring was expensive and sentimental. Of course, he couldn't just lose it without even hearing one word from his mother!

"The ghost you brought the gift to destroy it in anger and she wasn't going to forgive you for it. Maybe you should go home and have a rethink. Think about the things she loved and would love to show off to her new friends in the underworld. It doesn't have to be materialistic, you know her and you know what she loves. Don't think about it too hard, and it will come to you naturally. Go home and think. And if you feel that you do not want to, then do not come back." The psychic dismissed Mr. Darcy. Fitzwilliam's father sighed dejectedly. He stood and walked through the cottage, back to where he left his horse and began to head home.

The "great psychic" probably worked with an accomplice who blew smoke from the house so that one of them could take the ring from the bowl to pocket it. Fitzwilliam was outraged by the psychic's trick to drain his father of her mother's emerald ring. But he decided not to confront the psychic. Let that be a lesson for his father.

~P&P~~P&P~~P&P~

That night, at the rented house in Norwich, Mr. Darcy screams made Fitzwilliam rush to see him. His father had unshed tears in his eyes and all Fitzwilliam could think about was the fraud Mr. Darcy had gone to visit out of sheer desperation. Fitzwilliam felt helpless. He began to drown himself in silent prayer.

'Father in heaven, please make this stop. Please give Father peace!'

Fitzwilliam stayed with his father for a week when the old man came down with a fever. His father did not talk about going back to the 'great psyche' but said he had to continue his travel. Fitzwilliam left Norwich and returned to Pemberley. That was about six months ago.

Why was Father kidnapped? Did he encounter highwaymen on his travel? Where did he last say he was travelling to? Fitzwilliam wrote a note to Darcy's banker and Gordon to meet him at Judge Darcy's office. He learned from Gordon that his father had come to London but chose not to stay in Darcy House in Mayfair. There were too many memories of his mother there. He rented a house at Acton. Mr. Darcy liked the very blessed sweet air, even though the area was now occupied by professionals and military men, instead of high society who had left Acton 60 years ago.

Fitzwilliam sent for a carriage to be prepared and a few strong footmen to come with him. He hated everything his father was up to, but he promised his mother that he would take care of him, and notwithstanding, he really wasn't ready to lose his father yet.

Fitzwilliam arrived at his uncle's office and was ushered in, even though he had no prior appointment. "Please, uncle. You have to help me."

"Fitzwilliam, you should sit down. What is the problem?" Judge Darcy asked, a comforting look on his features, and he poured a glass of wine for Fitzwilliam.

"Father has been abducted by some criminals and they demand a ransom." Fitzwilliam took a sip of the wine to calm himself and said, fishing out the letter and handing it to him.

"This seems serious, but it could also be a trick. A joke of some kind." Judge toyed with his beard. "When was the last time you heard from or saw your father?"

"About six months ago in Norwich. He was to come to London. He told me he was visiting a friend." I replied. "Looks like he wasn't really seeing a friend. He went to see yet another fraud."

"Why would you say that?"

"I haven't told you about Father's 'travel' in my letters. Father said he was trying to find his purpose in life. In fact, lately, he wanted to communicate with Mother through psychics. I have seen him swindled once by a fraud in Norwich. Mother's emerald ring was gone just like that," Fitzwilliam snapped his fingers and his voice raised. "without Father even hearing a word from Mother. As if speaking to ghosts is ever possible!"

Judge Darcy shook his head. "You should have told me earlier. I could have sat George down and talked to him. Let me open a case and call the constable. So you suspect George is visiting another psyche in London and gets himself into trouble?"

Fitzwilliam nodded his head. "I've asked Father's valet to come here to meet me. There is a location in the note and the time for me to pay the ransom. But I think Gordon might know where Father is. I've also requested the thirty thousand pounds be ready and brought here."

"Yes, Lower Road is near the Howland Great Wet Dock," Judge Darcy said. "I'm sure the kidnapper would flee by boat once they got the ransom money. We still have one and a half hours to make preparation. Let me talk to the constable."

Gordon arrived at Judge Darcy's office with the location of where Mr. Darcy had gone. The valet had followed his master to the unoccupied house at Lower Road early that morning. After waiting for nearly three hours with no sign of Mr. Darcy, he went to Darcy House. He was briefed by the butler about Fitzwilliam's message for him to go to Judge Darcy's office. It seemed the money drop location was about half a mile from where Mr. Darcy had disappeared into. Judge Darcy ordered his constable to prepare for both locations.

Soon Fitzwilliam went to the address at Lower Road, Rotherhithe, with three officers dressed as servants. Each carried a sack of around 16 pounds. The top layer of the bag consisted of coins Fitzwilliam withdrew from the banker and the rest of the rocks that Judge Darcy insisted on substituting the coins. Fitzwilliam met a burly man and his partner, a lanky, red-faced fellow with an evil grin, at a small hut near the Lower Road.

"Where is the money?" The burly one asked.

Fitzwilliam signalled one of the officers to open the sack and show the kidnappers the coins on the top layer. "Where is my father?" Fitzwilliam asked mockingly. "If I don't see him, you don't get it."

The two men looked at each other. "Fine, we'll take you there." The lanky one said. "Let us go."

The burly one whispered to his partner when his partner swatted him off as one would do to a pestering fly. "They cannot harm us. It is just four men." Fitzwilliam heard the low voice.

The walk was not up to half a mile, in the location as Gordon had described. The party arrived at several buildings, propped up by blackened timber with the upper floors leaning precariously over the ground levels. Corridors after corridors, passing by women and children living in very crowded conditions, Fitzwilliam and the officers were finally taken to the 'room' where Mr. Darcy was kept.

"You see, we keep our guest and treat him well." A voice came from the outside. Fitzwilliam turned around to see another large man. His voice was not close to intimidating, but his stature spelt 'business'.

The room Fitzwilliam's father was kept in was clean. There was a chain around Mr. Darcy's leg. Its other end was attached to one of the bed stands, limiting his movements.

"Now," The large man turned to Fitzwilliam with what could pass as a warm smile. "Payment."

Fitzwilliam shook my head. "Release his foot first."

The large man nodded, and lanky and burly men rushed to remove the chain from Mr. Darcy's leg. As soon as that was completed, the three officers attacked the men, and Fitzwilliam grabbed his father's hand and urged him out of there. Several other officers waited outside and burst into the room to subdue the fighting.

Fitzwilliam did not wait to see which party was the victor. He pulled his father out of the building into the carriage waiting there. He gave a signal to Gordon who sat with the driver, to head back to Darcy House immediately. He would send a note to thank his uncle later and see if any of the officers sustained any injury and required treatment.

Father closed his eyes as we entered the carriage.

"Father—" Fitzwilliam began, but Mr. Darcy caught him off.

"I don't need your lectures, son." Mr. Darcy said calmly.

"Lectures?" Fitzwilliam said. "Do you think that mother would be proud of your actions? Here you are, chasing shadows, forgetting that you are a man of high standards. You said you were going to London to see a friend? That criminal at Rotherhithe was he the friend you wanted to see, father? You put Gordon and uncle James's officers in danger. You put me in danger. Why do you keep on acting like—" Mr. Darcy cut him off.

"Like what? Have you forgotten that I sired you?"

"You're acting like I—" Fitzwilliam closed my eyes, trying to calm himself before saying something highly disrespectful.

Mr. Darcy shook his head. "Thank you for coming out to get me, Fitzwilliam. You can thank James too, but I just wanted to see your mother."

"You should also say that you were not chasing fairies, Papa."

Mr. Darcy closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and shook his head. "I want to rest now."

~P&P~~P&P~~P&P~

The constable retrieved the coins in the sacks and a pearl necklace those criminals had taken forcefully from Mr. Darcy and sent them back to Darcy House. Fitzwilliam could feel the stress lines taking form on his face.

"I know you have heard this before, but I miss your mother. I had heard of that psychic at Rotherhithe and decided to go there. George, Wickham's son, told me about this psychic a month ago. He is studying law in London. He told me that one of his employer's clients had gone to him when his wife died and that the psychic helped him summon her. They talked, and he could even touch her. Fitzwilliam, all I could think of at the time was talking to your mother," Mr. Darcy gave a small smile. The smile of a weary, grieving man. "I even took the pearl necklace I gave your mother at our engagement to make her a queen in the afterlife. I thought she would be so happy to see me. I saw the building described to me, and I didn't stop noticing that it looked out of place…." According to Mr. Darcy, all he could think about was seeing and touching the late Lady Anne, as he had not done so in almost three years. Nothing seemed to matter.

Fitzwilliam felt angry. He had a strong urge to get away from it all. He decided to listen to his desires, hoping that taking a short leave would clear the clouds of anger in him. He had sent a letter ahead to Charles Bingley, informing him of accepting his invitation to visit Netherfield Park.

John Bingley, Lady Matlock's cousin, had wanted to buy an estate nearer to London at the urging of his youngest daughter. After unsuccessfully trying to tempt Fitzwilliam to offer for her in the past three years, Caroline Bingley wished to expand her circles of connections with people of high society. Mr. Bingley had yielded to the demands of his youngest daughter. He leased out his estate near Scarborough in exchange for the lease of Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire. The county was just twenty-four miles from London. Fitzwilliam was willing to brave the fawning Miss Bingley to be away from dealing with his father's obsession.