PP Non-Canon General Regency
A Gentleman's Choice
Sequel to Making Peace
Previously:
"Unfortunately, yes. Thankfully, even on my worst of days, I did not ever sit down at a table with him."
"Your saving grace if that was the case."
James ignored the underlying doubt in another's man' voice and focused on the paper in front of him.
Identifying men
Ch. 6
The park was quite as people strolled through the park. However, no one disturbed three men who were sitting on bench talking. Those gentlemen were James, Horace and Edward. The third having been stunned the first two had wished to speak to him.
"Your Grace, you both may be married to my nieces; however, I am confused as to why you wish to speak to me; espeically here and not in my own home."
"What needs to be discussed is not for your wife's ears, nor for any of your servants. And it is for what you may, or may not, have seen in your place of business." Horace replied. "And, I, for one am only here long enough to inform you that Mr. Hurst has the backing of not only our Parliament, but our military as well."
"Well, this must be major." Edward's eyes went wide and watched as the duke bid good-bye and left James to talk to their uncle.
"Besided George Wickham, what do you know about Bruce Kent, Charles Gibbons or John Corby? They were known to frequent businesses near your own; word is John Corby was considering joining the military just as George did."
"What do you mean considering?" Edward's forehead crinkled. "He did join."
"Since when? we were told all but George were civilians" James did not like what he was hearing, why would Horace have been told different.
"If Ensign John Corby did not join; then was going around impersonating a military member. He came in my shop more than once to buy small vials or bottles. I thought nothing of it; medical students, or ensigns studying to become doctors or assistants do it all the time."
"I think I will go talk to Horace, have him double check his facts before I head up to *Boston Spa to look over our dead man." James tacked on he would also be traveling up to where the dead man had been found.
"Hope you find answers. Oh, James, you may not be able to tell me, but is there any truth to the rumors I am hearing from Lady Lucas? The ones about Lydia?"
"That depends on what the woman is saying now." James had to fight the urge to do a few so not polite things to the woman when Edward admitted it was nothing specific but general hints that Lydia was living in dubious circumstances relaying on illegal means to survivie. "Do me a favor, please."
"If I am able."
"Next time you go to Meryton, do what you can to spread the word I happen to know enough to feel comfortable in saying the odds are extremely high Lydia is not living in those conditions, and is nto having to resort to such tactics to keep alive."
" I happen to be heading out tomorrow, I will be sure to do just that."
"And I will have a discussion with Sir William, who I happen to know is in London. He may be easy going, but even he will put his foot down if ordered to by the Duke." Which is exactly what happened within twelve hours; James did not arrive in Boston Spa for another three days.
Three days would have been boring, and absolutely fruitless only it was then he found out what Widow Benson already knew; Bruce Kent and Charles Gibbons were both local both of Wetherby who had lived closer to Peyton Hall -though not on that particular estate.
"Charles had a farming accident as a child; missing his fourth finger on his left hand." A tavernkeeper's words rang in his ear as the carriage roughly swayed back and forth. "And Bruce never could find a jacket to fit him, and not because he as too thin- just had no lick of sense on how to wear his clothes. Always wore them at least two sizes too big and loved hundred percent wool suits. Wore those blasted things all the time. Loved to "
It was those words which rang as James finally stepped into the dimly lit room of the small village mortuary in Boston Spa. The room was sparsely furnished, with a single wooden table at its center, draped in a worn linen cloth. The walls, lined with shelves holding various jars and instruments, gave the space an air of somber utility. A faint smell of damp earth and decay lingered in the air, mingling with the scent of herbs meant to mask the odor.
The mortuary attendant, a solemn figure, gestured towards the table where the remains lay. The room was quiet, save for the distant murmur of the village outside, as James prepared himself for the grim task ahead.
"Charles Gibbons is out, this man has all his fingers." James did not have to look further than the hands to know that and then began to look closer at the corpse.
The body, now mostly skeletal, bore the unmistakable signs of prolonged submersion. The bones were discolored and brittle, with remnants of fabric clinging to them. Those facts were not surprising. He had already ruled out Charles. As James looked closer, he noticed there was no signs of discolored scraps, which might be barely holding onto the corpse's frame. And, for as much as Bruce was said to have worn wool, it was something he would have expected to find. When he asked if the man had been wearing any kind of metal, the mortician said no, but there had been another body brought in from the same river bend.
"What? I was only told of one."
"It is on that other table. Brought in at the same time. Why they did not tell you, I have no idea. Everyone up here has been talking about it."
James hurried over, lifted the linen cloth and lit out a low whistle. "Someone needs to let the Gibson family know their kin has just been identified."
"Poor Charles, always figured he would come to a bad end."
"What kind of lifestyle did he lead?" James could easily figure out the answer, but needed to hear it from the mortician's mouth himself.
"Drinking, gambling and too many women. And, apparently had caught up in the drug scene due to the kind of buttons which his been on his coat, and what had been in them. Ten to one that gentleman did too, or he had been selling military secrets." Nodding towards the second body. "Just do not blame anyone in Wetherby or Bath Spa, those boys traveled south too much."
James walked out knowing one family could have closure, which was good, but that first corpse inside had given up no clues as to who he was. How was he to know who it was; he stll had three men who it could be. Mr. Hurst started to turn until he heard himself being beckoned over and over.
"Mr. Hurst! Mr. Hurst!" A young man was running towards him. He had to be a good five-foot eight, with dirty-blonde hair, wearing a wool jacket too big for him. That fit the description of Bruce Kent. "I heard you have been asking around about me." His face was bright and his grin a mile wide. "Name's Bruce Kent, I just want you to know I do not drink, gamble or chase women anymore. Honest, just ask Mr. Brown; he can vouch for me."
"I have heard his name around lately, what changed your mind?" James was happy to hear it, and said as much.
"I did not like who I was becoming and..." Mr. Kent lowered his voice and his eyes darted around as if half-afraid who might crawl out from some canal. "Men were starting to disappear around Ensign Corby. So, I ditched London and high-tailed it home."
"Mind telling me who else ran around Ensign Corby?"
"Charles Gibson, a few of his buddies from Bath and another military guy...I believe his name was Wickham, George Wickham. His wife was quite foolish at first, but when the ensign...well, he got ..weird..it really freaked her out. And it was like ...it...well, it really woke her up big time."
"What do you mean by weird?'
"Kind of hard to explain, but I did not live that far from them and he would come and well, let us just say his treatment of his was not what is should have been, and the women he started hanging round ..." The gentleman's words got so low no one could hear what he was saying- only James- but what filled his ear made James hope the ensign was the one on the slab because-if not- it would be too tempting to put his fist into the man's abdomen.
"Any idea where Mrs. Wickham is now?" James had to know if this man knew about the divorce or not; it would let him know if others up here knew the same rumors which had gone filled the duke's ears before Horace had confirmed the youngest Bennet sister's new marital status.
"Word is she was able to get a divorce, we all hope so. Ensign Wickham's treatment of her, infidelity, and what I can only assume desertion of his vows, had to have really snapped her out of her foolish ways. Just do not ask me where she went. The lady is not here in Wetherby."
"How far is Peyton Halls?"
"Oh, that place is another day's journey. But few go there and, while it is a possibility the lady went there- it is not likely you will be allowed to see her, even if you are investigating that man's whereabouts."
"Why not?"
"Because Lady Shaw has high connections to someone; we have no idea who, just know she has them. And she has helped many women, at least in the past she has. If a woman who is wanting to get back on her feet and, for whatever reason, does not wish to be found, then that woman is not found -even an ex-drunk like me knows that."