PP AU NON-CANON GENERAL REGENCY

NOTE: I can do NOTHING about the technical problems of FF. Sorry, no more multi chapter stories will be put on here. MAYBE one shots but that is it, but I am doubting even that.

Previously:

"Are you serious? Why put no stairs in so close to a drawing-room?"

"I have no idea. However, Catherine calls it an architectural quirk. Be that as it may, I think it would serve us as the perfect strategic advantage. Let me explain."

Rat Caught

Ch. 25

No noise filled Netherfield as the women servants, who had been sent to their relatives, received word to stay there for their own safety. Mr. Hurst's male servants had remained behind and continued their work, maintaining the illusion that nothing was amiss. If anyone had suggested James's wife stay away merely on the basis of danger, Catherine—who had just the other day insisted no one call her Kitty unless Fitzwilliam's aunt was around—would have refused to listen. However, now, with a child coming, even she had gotten into a coach and headed out of town.

"I am glad our sister did not argue with you," Alexander told James as the two men headed towards the drawing room. "She is turning out to be one very stubborn lady."

"That she is," James laughed. "However, that does not make Catherine stupid." He then pointed to an alcove. "You can be hidden here until Radcliffe passes and goes into the only door we will have unlocked. You know what to do after that."

As they approached the drawing room, the men took their places, ensuring all exits, including windows and other doors, were securely locked, save for one. This was done on purpose, leading to the 'architectural quirk'. The silence of Netherfield was eerie, with only the occasional creak of the old manor's timbers breaking the stillness. The air was cool, with the early spring chill lingering, and the scent of blossoming flowers would have wafted in through windows had they been unlatched.

Thomas and Mr. Hurst exchanged a brief nod, confirming that all was ready. The library door was now the only point of escape left, and it was through this door that Radcliffe would emerge. Alexander, hidden in the alcove, waited with bated breath. The men's tension was palpable, each second ticking away as loudly as the grandfather clock down the hallway, its minutes stretching into what felt like an eternity.

The early spring sun began to rise, casting a gentle light over the estate as if signaling the start of the day's activities. Outside, the first blooms of spring began to unfurl, unbothered by the activities going on inside the Hurst's home, or the man heading their way. Life continued on for nature, and the flowers thrived. However, the men of Netherfield were not focused on any item of nature; their concern was solely on ensuring things were appropriately dealt with for what was to occur.

Meanwhile, Radcliffe was within five miles of Netherfield. As reported, he had brought no one with him. Yes, he had considered it; however, with so many failing before, the gentleman now determined the only way to succeed was to quietly slip in as a guest—if anyone was home—and work his way around the place to where that item was said to be. If no one but the servants were home... well... he would come up with a reason to be there and then wander the place freely.

Riding up to Netherfield, Radcliffe was pleased to see no signs of activity, though he remained cautious, suspecting men on the first floor waiting for him. Entering more like slithering in through one of the side doors, the oversized weasel was creeping down the hall ever so quietly, just in case one of the servants was around. Radcliffe had no desire to alert any hired man to his presence in the Hurst's home.

The quiet was unnerving, almost palpable. He moved through the dimly lit corridors, making his way to the upstairs drawing room where his informant had said the desired object would be. Each step was careful, calculated to avoid detection. Upon reaching the room, he swiftly spotted the paperweight, a small but crucial object which concealed vital proof of all his schemes and guilt. He grasped it, feeling a sense of accomplishment, only to realize that the silence had grown excessively oppressive. It was too quiet—eerily so. Panic began to set in as he searched for an escape route, only to see shadows of men blocking every single route but one; there was no choice but to take it.

As he slipped back into the hallway, his heart pounded in his chest as Lord de Bourgh emerged from an alcove, blocking his path. The two men locked eyes, and a tense silence filled the air. This was not a man he wished to fight—not even with a gun. However, as he whipped out his gun, it jammed and would not fire, as did the earl's. Alexander had a second gun, but in a moment of honor, he chose not to shoot an unarmed man and dove after Radcliffe, and the two men fought hand to hand.

Radcliffe initially believed he could overpower Lord de Bourgh, being younger and having lived among sailors, a rough lot. Alexander had not. However, Radcliffe soon found that—through this fierce struggle—with each man fighting to gain the upper hand, the earl was no weak man. And in the end, though both men stood bruised and battered, it was Radcliffe who lacked the strength to resist Lord de Bourgh twisting his arm behind his back as he walked him to the library. The room was filled with shelves of books, the smell of aged paper and leather permeating the air. Radcliffe looked up as Alexander forced him to sit down; anger and fear shone in his eyes though the man refused to acknowledge that fact.

"You think you have won?" Radcliffe spat. "This is far from over."

Alexander's expression was steady and unyielding. "You are correct, Radcliffe. This is far from over. But for now, you are at our mercy. And you will answer for your crimes."

Radcliffe's defiance wavered, but he managed to hold his gaze steady. "I have powerful friends, Alexander. They will come for me."

"We shall see," Alexander replied. He turned to the guards. "Ensure he is well-guarded. No one is to enter or leave this room without my explicit permission, or even James'—as Lord Harris has not arrived yet."

The guards nodded, their expressions resolute. Alexander left the library, knowing that the battle was not yet won, but confident that they were prepared for whatever came next.

James walked up from behind his brother and clapped a hand on Alexander's shoulder. "You handled that well, brother."

"Perhaps, but I fear there will always be those who seek to disrupt our peace." The men left the room, the weight of their responsibilities heavy on their shoulders. As they walked through the halls of Netherfield, they discussed what they thought would become of Radcliffe.

"I doubt he will live to see the end of the month, considering all the items he has been smuggling, and his other...activities."

As he walked through the corridors of Netherfield, Alexander's thoughts turned to his family. He had done everything in his power to do as asked and helped protect them. His mind then turned to what James had said. Lord de Bourgh had to agree; he doubted Radcliffe would be set free, most likely he would be hung without a public trial... at least not from what Thomas and Lord Harris had told him and James. No, with what other things Georgiana had discovered in a book she had brought down from her home in Scotland...Captain Gordon had gathered more evidence than he had fully realized against Radcliffe. And Thomas, once reading it, had turned it over to Lord Harris. However, for now, the threat of danger still loomed as far as he was concerned. Therefore, Jane's husband resolved to remain vigilant, to never let his guard down.

The day passed in a flurry of activity, with preparations being made and plans being set in motion. The men of Netherfield worked tirelessly, their dedication unwavering. As evening approached, the estate was once again secured, and a sense of calm settled over it but that was only because Lord Harris arrived sooner than expected with two royal officers and hauled Mr. Radcliffe off in shackles and chains.

"What was he smuggling?" One of the men's eyes went wide as he saw what the officers had put on Mr. Radcliffe.

"He was not just smuggling items." Thomas's mouth stayed flat. "Let us just say he is guilty of treason and leave it at that." He then smiled. "Now, if you do not mind, I have a wife and family to get back to."

Epilogue

Laughter filled the parlor of Longbourn as every single sister, except Mary who could not travel down from Scotland, sat either in comfortable chairs or sofas holding their newborn infants. Elizabeth and Lydia had given birth to sons, while Jane and Catherine had given birth to daughters; word was that Mary's child had been a girl also. They had all been relieved to hear Radcliffe had indeed been hung not only for causing the death of Captain Gordon, and a good share of his crew, but for plotting against the Prince Regeant in coded talk in the book the captain had unwittingly brought back with him. A book not meant originally for him.

"Where is Father and Mother?" Catherine asked; a name her sisters were finally getting used to hearing her called by.

"Most likely in the garden. I think the stress of the past year has taken its toll on Miss Georgiana." Elizabeth smiled sympathetically; she could not bring herself to call Fitzwilliam's sister mother when she was also her sister. And yet, at the same time, Elizabeth wanted to show respect. "I imagine Father is offering her some comfort."

Thomas was indeed sitting out in the gardens with his wife, on a bench, with his arms around her. "It is all over, Georgianna, Radcliffe can no longer hurt anyone in your family ever again."

"Do you regret me claiming you as my husband?" Georgianna bit her lip. "With no warning." Georgianna bit her lip. :"I thought for sure you would deny me right the and there."

"Do you regret my claiming you as my husband?" Georgiana bit her lip. "Without warning?" She bit her lip again. "I thought for certain you would deny me then and there."

"For a fleeting moment, I considered it, recalling Mother Gordon's words, but..." He gently lifted her chin. "The thought of leaving you to Radcliffe's man—and thus to Radcliffe himself—sent shivers down my spine, and not pleasant ones. Therefore, no, I do not regret what we have done."

Thomas stood up as he kept a hold of her hand. They went in and joined the family. Nine months later Georgianna herself gave birth to Thomas G. Bennet and within a couple of years gave birth to another so who Thomas named Andrew George Bennet; those two names were the closest he could think to his wife's name of Georgianna. And, to his dying day, Thomas said his family ties became stronger all because of marrying Georgianna Darcy.