Richard sucked in a breath. “You saw it?”
“It sold yesterday.”
“You are certain? Anyone would lie about its whereabouts if they knew you would pay handsomely for information.”
Darcy did not reveal how handsomely he had paid, nor did he show Richard the overpriced alabaster scissors in his coat pocket. “I am certain. The woman said she sold it for fifty pounds.”
“Fifty pounds!” Richard coughed. “It is obscene!”
Darcy agreed. “The vendor never would have admitted her grave mistake had she known the real value of the treasure she possessed. Unlike her, Wickham knew its value, which is why he stole it after I frustrated his plans at Ramsgate. However, without Georgiana’s permission, he could not sell it in the channels which would have secured him the most money.”
“Thank God she did not give him that!”
“Once he stole it, he had to flee England before we could find him. He had little choice but to pawn it.”
“He would have been hanged as a thief.”
Darcy was not certain he could have gone through with it. It was one thing to allow Wickham to face the consequences of his actions, to suffer for them, but to end his life…
His cousin heaved a sigh. “Look, I do not expect you to stand aside and do nothing. However, your presence here is extreme. Have you no respect for your own life? Why are you alone, dressed like a sailor on leave?” Hesniffed at Darcy’s shoulder. “Did you douse yourself with gin?”
“I intended to blend in.”For all the good that had done!
“Why do you not just tell her?”
Darcy stopped—his step, his breath, his very heart objected so strongly to the idea. Richard did not see the redness in Georgiana’s eyes every day or how puffy they became after she cried. Her unhappiness drove Darcy. Until he found her painting, they could not return to Pemberley. She would see the blank space on the gallery wall, and he would be unable to lie to her about it. It would break her heart to learn the depth of Wickham’s deceit. Darcy would rather stay in London and search all over the country than allow that wretched man to hurt his little sister again. “Out of the question,” he emphasized, resuming his pace. They were near the carriage now.
Richard did not insist. They continued in silence, the streets becoming cleaner and the houses more respectable.
“I received a letter from Bingley a couple days ago,” Richard said in a light tone.
Darcy appreciated the change in the subject. “How is he?”
“Very well. The estate he let is everything he could hope for, his neighbors are agreeable, and the young ladies nearby are all handsome.”
That sounded like Bingley. Finding good wherever he went was inherent to his character. It was to his credit, for his optimism was constantly tested by hispernicious sisters, who were equally determined to find fault wherever they went.
They had finally reached the carriage, and Darcy climbed inside. Richard leaned against the open door. “I hope for his sake that the ladies of Hertfordshire humble Miss Bingley. I would give a great deal to witness the grand occasion when she meets a young lady who surpasses her in wit, accomplishments, and beauty.” He rubbed his hands together and chuckled wickedly. “I mentioned Bingley’s newfound friends to Georgiana when I called yesterday, and she was delighted.”
Darcy frowned. “You called? Georgiana said nothing.”
“You were probably poking around inside a dusty pawn shop. Georgie is excited to meet them.”
Darcy motioned for Richard to either move out of the way or enter the conveyance. “I have no intention of leaving London unless it is in pursuit of her painting.”
“I knew you would say that.” Still, Richard did not budge.
“Yes, you are very intelligent. Do you need a lift to the barracks, or do you mean to walk?” If the carriage moved, it would run over Richard’s toes.
One hand planted on Constance’s hilt and the other on his hip, Richard stated, “I accepted Bingley’s invitation on your behalf.”
“You dared to speak for me?” Darcy seethed.
“Yes, you see, I am both daring and intelligent.”
“A blasted fool is what you are!”A blasted fool with little regard for his toes.Darcy was tempted to tap the roof of his carriage to signal his coachman to go.
Richard gripped one side of the open door. “I did it for Georgiana. She needsyoumore than she needs that infernal painting.”
