RED

Darcy and Longman entered the bookstore, to see Mr. Bartlet guiding two carters carrying boxes of books toward the back. They waited patiently for him to finish, and once the men set the boxes down and left, Bartlet turned to them with a bow.

"Mr. Darcy, welcome back. I have been expecting you."

"Good day, Mr. Bartlet," Darcy said.

Longman and Bartlet just nodded to each other.

Bartlet walked over and turned the sign around, then locked the door, saying, "Tea?"

All three walked back to the back of the shop, where a tea set was already set up with the right number of cups, just in time for a young man who worked for the bookshop brought out the hot water. It took a few minutes to set up the tea, and the men chatted about goings on about town until the assistant left.

Bartlet finally said, "I suppose you are looking for information about your wife, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy felt the need to tread carefully. Here he had one of the few men who had been kind to his wife with nothing really to gain from it. Mrs. Darcy's pin money could possibly have made any difference to Bartlet who only still worked because he loved the customers, even if she spent every farthing on books.

He carefully said, "I, of course, would never dream of asking you to break a confidence, but anything you could tell me would be greatly appreciated."

Bartlet nodded. "She never asked me to keep anything in confidence. In most ways, she was one of the most open and engaging young women I have ever known. She was voracious reader, and an intelligent one. Did you know that, sir?"

Feeling uncomfortable, but knowing he needed to get used to it, he said, "She spent four days in a house I was a guest in. She liked to engage in discussions, and I found that if you came to the arena with a weak argument, you did so at your peril."

Longman and Bartlet chuckled. "That, I believe."

Bartlet said, "I should preface what I will tell you by saying I have no idea where your wife went. She did not say where she was going, and I did not ask. I cannot even give you a clue. She never, to my knowledge, really discussed anything about her life with anyone, at least in this shop. It was all about the books."

Darcy thought that did indeed sound unlikely. He remembered Elizabeth as being quite a social creature when he was stalking her in Meryton, but who knew what she would be in Derbyshire. If she had been trying to make a go of her marriage, she certainly would not spend her time gossiping about it, but he assumed that she needed some social contact outside of Pemberley like she needed air. No matter how you sliced it, every single person at Pemberley might depend on her goodwill sooner or later, so everyone would have to be careful around her. It made perfect sense that she would try to break out of her shell.

Darcy brought his attention back and whispered, "Anything you can tell me would be appreciated."

Bartlet took out a tinderbox, laboriously sparked a flame to the tinder, and lit his pipe, finally saying, "I suppose she will not mind me telling you that I did not meet her as Mrs. Darcy. I first met her as Miss Bennet."

Darcy startled and sat upright in his chair abruptly at that news. Bartlet was well known as a homebody who went to London regularly to buy and sell books, but otherwise preferred to stick to the comforts of home, so his chances of meeting her in London were slim, but not non‑existent."

"Where did you meet her, if you do not mind my asking?"

"Right in this shop. She sat in that same chair you are occupying right now, and I gave her a cup of tea. She apologized that she could not afford to buy anything, and I opined that she was quite welcome anyway. She warmed up a bit, purchased parchment, borrowed a pen, and wrote a letter. She …"

He looked at Darcy pensively, then continued, "… asked me as a great favor to hold it for three days and then post it, which I did."

Darcy's head was spinning bad enough to make him feel almost as bad as his Typhus days, and he asked, "When was this? Did you notice the direction? What was her condition? Where was she going?" all while his heart started racing and his head started pounding.

Bartlet reached out a steadying hand, gripped Darcy's arm. "Calm yourself, young man. All will be revealed. Take a deep breath and eat a slice of this bread, or I can bring you some brandy."

As tempting as the brandy sounded, Darcy followed the bookseller's advice regarding the bread and tea and got himself back under regulation.

Bartlet judged the man ready to listen again, so said, "It was on the 5th of December, about two hours short of closing time. She was very polite, our Miss Bennet. I thought it would have been a breach of her privacy to look at the direction, so I laid the letter face down on the desk for three days as she asked, and then posted it. Before that, I walked her back to the coaching inn, and bid her adieu. That was the last I saw of her, until she came in to introduce herself as Mrs. Darcy. I would ask that the first meeting be between the three of us. Nobody in Derbyshire but her maid knows about it, or maybe the innkeeper."

Darcy thought that sounded like a good clue, and asked, "Molly Hatcher?"

"Yes. She was raised just a couple of miles South of Lambton. Her father passed some years ago, and her mother just in November. She has four brothers, but they all left to join the Army or Navy some years ago."

Darcy said, "Have you any idea what she was doing in Lambton, of all places?"

Bartlet looked at the man for some time, and Darcy finally ducked his head, saying, "She was running?"

"Yes, I believe so – apparently unsuccessfully."

Darcy once again felt pains in his chest, but a deep breath cleansed it.

He finally said, "I had no idea she found the whole idea so distasteful?"

"Did you ask her?" Bartlet said, not quite able to keep a hard edge out of his voice, which both of his companions noticed, but neither remarked on.

"Much to my shame, I did not."

Bartlet sat back for quite some time, looking at Darcy. They had 'known' each other for many years, but distantly. Darcy bought books and talked about what was available, but for both men, much like Mrs. Darcy, it was all about the books. There was no need for idle chatter, or discussions of this or that, when the whole world of the written word was laid out for their entertainment.

At some length, Bartlet said, "What will you do if you find Mrs. Darcy?"

Everyone knew it was not an idle question, and the answer would determine how much the aging bookseller happened to be able to recall.

"I will do my best to earn her respect and her trust, maybe even her love someday."

Bartlet could not help snuffling a bit. "A tall order, young man."

Darcy, momentarily losing his temper snapped, "What should I do? Give up? Move on? Find another? Forcer her acquiescence?"

Breathing hard again, he did not notice he was balling his fists, but his companions did.

Longman said, "I suspect Bartlet is going to tell you that your passion for the task is admirable, but you may need to work on your …"

He could not think of the right word, but Bartlet provided. "… Subtlety?"

Longman laughed. "Yes, that one. That is why I keep you around, Bartlet, so I do not have to learn so many hard words."

The two men chuckled, which had the intended effect of calming Darcy down.

Darcy said, "I would beg on my knees if I thought it would help."

"Hurt, more likely. I do not think your wife has much affection for weakness."

"Understood, but you get my meaning."

Bartlet paused a moment, forced Darcy to endure an agonizing further two minutes while he got his pipe going again, and finally said, "You will respect her if you ever find her – treat her kindly –"

"Of course!" Darcy exclaimed, but then looked abashed when Bartlet stared him down, and finally said, "I suppose with my past behavior to her, there is no 'of course' about anything. I will give you my word, and I will give her my word that I will be the consummate gentleman, and if she finds me lacking, I will release her – somehow."

Longman asked, "How can that be done?"

"I have no idea, but I am a wealthy man. I have resources, and I will dedicate whatever it costs to make up for my mistakes."

Bartlet said, "Be careful not to overdo it, Mr. Darcy. A marriage is a partnership. You must approach her with the proper amount of humility, which is somewhere between crawling on hands and knees and asserting your lawful rights as a husband. You will need to find the right spot on the continuum, though if I were you, I would err on the side of hands and knees."

Darcy growled. "It will all be academic if I cannot find her."

Bartlet nodded. "Well then, there are two things you should know."

"Go on."

"Based on the coach times, I would assume she was headed to Manchester in December, perhaps beyond, but that town has all the mills and more trade than you can shake a stick at. A woman of some sense could do well there, assuming she is ready to forego the privileges of her station."

"She obviously considered that an improvement over marrying me, so I will assume that was her plan, unless she had some relatives or friends to help her."

"All are possibilities, sir. I cannot say more. She never indicated anyone close enough to do that. She has an uncle in town who is apparently a very successful tradesman. I always thought she might go to him if she got desperate, but I suspect she would worry about his reputation, as he routinely does business with the gentry. Of course, that is all supposition. She only mentioned him in passing once or twice. Of course, there is her family, but she never mentioned them, even in passing, even once."

"Do you know the uncle's name?"

"No, I assume you would have to get it from her father or hire someone in London to track him down."

Darcy grimaced, but there had never been any doubt he would have to meet the Bennets again, and this meeting was bound to be even worse than the last one.

"I thank you. It seems likely that since she was here on the 5th, but returned to marry on the 23rd, she either had a change of heart, or she was brought back by force."

Longman said, "The latter, I think. That might explain how she knew Molly. Any good thief‑catcher would want to preserve her reputation. He would have engaged a maid to return with her, but he would not likely have taken the maid all the way to her father's house. Minimal exposure, and all that. Mrs. Darcy sought out Molly on her first day in the house and took her along when she left. I suspect Miss Hatcher could tell you a great deal, which is probably why she left with Mrs. Darcy. Of course, that begs the question of how she paid for all that, since she obviously had very little money."

"How did you know that Mrs. Darcy had very little money?" Darcy asked in surprise.

Longman just stared at him. "The date of her departure. If she had any money, she would have been gone after the Matlocks."

Darcy did not like the sound of that but could not argue with the reasoning.

They both looked at Bartlet, who took several more puffs on his pipe, then carefully got up, walked to a shelf on the back wall, and returned with a bottle of whiskey and three glasses. Without a word he poured two fingers in each, handed them out. "I believe I can shed some light on that."

With that, he held up the glass suggestively, said, "To strong ladies," and then they clinked glasses and drank the liquid in one gulp.

Bartlet gasped form the burn of the liquid. "Mrs. Darcy did not speak of her situation very much, but I could manage to pull some things from between the lines, as they say. You put some onerous restrictions on her, did you not, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy was getting tired of having to hang his head in shame, so he simply replied, "Much to my shame, I did."

"Did the restrictions include your library?"

Surprised, Darcy thought about it a minute. "I prohibited her from reading anything on the black shelves. You know the material from your last visit."

With a nod, Bartlet said, "Yes, the black shelves. Do you have any idea how many law books are not on the black shelves?"

"Not really," Darcy answered in confusion.

"Seventeen."

"And …"

"And, Mrs. Darcy read them all, several times."

Darcy sat back, trying to work out what that meant. He was simultaneously annoyed that Bartlet was unwilling to speak plainly, which left him feeling like a not particularly bright schoolboy; but also impressed that the man was making him think instead of handing him the answer on a platter. His mind had never been quite as sharp after Typhus, but the thought that some time being instructed by these two men might be the tonic to get him back on track.

He finally said, "She would have read all about the marriage laws, and a woman like that …"

"Would be horrified."

Darcy nodded. "Yes – according to the law, I had complete control over her life, and she had no reason to believe I would use that power wisely or kindly."

"Exactly!" exclaimed Bartlet, although the exclamation seemed more to Darcy like a very kind tutor would give to a not very good student who needed some encouragement, which was not exactly earned, but useful for motivation.

"I suspect that is not everything. Let me think …"

Darcy spent a few minutes 'thinking', which to a casual observer would look an awful lot like 'drinking another whiskey with two men', and he finally slapped the table, and exclaimed. "Loopholes!"

Bartlet smiled. "Precisely! Now, pretend you are Mrs. Darcy, a self‑described obedient wife."

Darcy snorted. "She would have said that ironically, if at all."

"Oh, she said it," Longman added, and when the other two looked at him, he said, "Not to me, of course. She said it to the Earl, and no, before you ask, I was not eavesdropping. She told it to Omega, and she did not seem to mind that I heard."

"I suspect that was a message to me."

"Or not – perhaps it was just what it sounded like. She wanted to speak to someone who would not judge her, and nothing fills the bill like a horse or a dog."

All three nodded, so Darcy thought a moment. "She would find a way to do something I expressly forbid, but in a way that could not be called disobedience."

Bartlet slammed the table, shouting. "Exactly!" with force proportional to the combination of the size of Darcy's epiphany and the whiskey they all had consumed.

He looked at Darcy, and decided to take pity on the young man, whose heart seemed to be in the right place, though at the wrong time.

"She met several of the gentlemen from neighboring estates, along with their wives and daughters, as well as a number of tradesmen, whom she treated the same as the gentlemen. Some of these men were in town looking for rare editions. You forbade her from reading the books on the black shelves, correct?"

Darcy had to think for a moment about that horrid missive he had written all that time ago, and finally said, "Yes, I did. They are very old, and extremely valuable."

"I beg you to keep your temper in check when I tell you that your collection is well known around here. Your father liked to boast about it, and many remember the boasts. There are quite a few gentlemen who wanted to read those books. They wanted to do so quite badly, and quite a few have ample funds."

Darcy stared, so the bookseller continued.

"You told her she could not read them, and she followed that instruction to the letter. She leased them for an afternoon. She made quite a game of it. Sometimes it was groups pitching their funds together, or sometimes she would auction. Either way, only one man got to handle the book, and the rules were exceedingly stringent. I think that was a part of the amusement for the men. Mrs. Darcy brought the books to the shop, double and triple wrapped extremely carefully in oilcloth. The men had to read them in the store, sitting at this very table, wearing brand new white cotton gloves. They were not allowed to smoke, eat or drink anything at all, or touch anything with ungloved hands. She even made them wear a cap inside in case something lurked in their hair; although I suspect she did that just for her own amusement. When they were done, they had to spend at least an hour discussing the book with Mrs. Darcy. That was the bargain, take it or leave it. If a gentleman balked, she simply doubled the price and then offered the same terms or walked away."

Both Darcy and Longman were staring with their mouths open for some moments of stunned silence, and then Darcy started laughing. The other three joined in, and within minutes, they were howling like banshees. The laughter went on for some time, with first one man almost coming to his senses, then another, only to be triggered by one of the others.

Eventually, Darcy wiped tears from his eyes. "That may be the cleverest thing I ever heard. Who would have thought? She could go far with fifty or sixty pounds, even taking two servants along. She could go for years. What a clever strategy."

"Yes, she was inordinately clever," Bartlet added, but then queried, "but where did you get fifty or sixty pounds?"

"It is the largest amount I can imagine for such a scheme?"

Bartlet laughed for quite some time by himself while the other two looked on in confusion.

Finally, he put them out of their misery by saying, "I might get fifty pounds. You might get fifty, on a good week. But Mrs. Darcy – well, sir – that is another matter entirely."

Darcy looked suspiciously. "How much are we talking about?"

"Oh, I would not know, but for the oldest tomes, I believe she was fetching well over £100. Have you ever spent £100 or even £200 for an afternoon or evening's entertainment? Is that uncommon?"

Darcy grunted. "I must admit that I have. I spend more than that every quarter on clothing, so any man of consequence could afford it. I have seen hundreds, or thousands cross the gambling tables in a few hours, so hundreds to read a rare tome, and tweak my pride in the bargain, would not be out of the question. In fact, some of my neighbors might do it even though they are barely literate just to have it on with me," then he chuckled, "not to say that is a bad thing. I would probably do the same given reversed positions."

Bartlet nodded. "I made no attempt to count it, but it seems likely that, all told, she managed a few thousand. She offered me a cut, but you know how I answered that. All those gentlemen bought ordinary books while they were here for the entertainment, so I made out all right."

Once again, all three were staring with their mouths hanging open, and finally, Darcy chuckled, and within minutes they were all howling again.

Not much later, Darcy and Longman took their leave, and wandered back to Pemberley.

Darcy was still chuckling when he finally retired that evening, wondering what in the world she was doing with that kind of money.