“Precisely,” Matlock said, his voice heavy with anger. “But it is more than that. Wexfield is also rumoured to be involved in smuggling operations, moving goods across the Channel under cover of night. He’s leveraging his political power to protect these illicit activities.”
“And he’s using his wealth to buy support in Parliament?” Darcy asked.
“I cannot prove it, but I’ve a letter here that puts one more nail in the coffin of my suspicions. He’s been funnelling money into the campaigns of MPs who are sympathetic to his cause, ensuring they owe him their allegiance. He is effectively building a faction within the House of Commons that can block any legislation he opposes.”
Darcy felt a surge of outrage that made the space behind his eye throb in pain. “Is there no way to expose him? To bring his actions to light?”
Matlock shook his head slowly. “Without concrete evidence, our hands are tied. The Prince Regent himself granted a request that removed a steadfast MP from some small borough in Hertfordshire from office, and it appears that the new man will be…” Matlock laughed darkly and sighed. “… rather useful to Wexfield. That was the one vote he needed to tip the balance, and it is all but done.”
Darcy swallowed hard.Hertfordshire?Egad,hewas the one who had suggested this! And every voice in Meryton had praised him for the notion. The queasiness from his head now spread throughout his core, and he was disturbingly close to besmirching the earl’s desk.
“This is… indeed troubling.” He laced his fingers in his lap, tapping his thumbs together as his pulse quickened. “Uncle, what do you know of Viscount Halstead? What involvement has he in this?”
Matlock frowned, his face creasing with concentration. “Halstead? The name is not familiar to me.”
Darcy leaned forward. “Surely you must know him. He was said to have attended Cambridge and perhaps had connections with our family. I thought Richard might have known him.”
Matlock shook his head again. “I am sure I have never heard of Lord Halstead. But why does he concern you? What is his connection to Wexfield?”
Darcy hesitated. The pieces of the puzzle were not fitting together. “Are you certain? He is supposed to be from Yorkshire. I understand he is currently in America, brokering a deal in cotton. Perhaps you might not have encountered him recently, but…”
“Darcy, I know the names and titles of every peer in the country. There is no title associated with that name, and every Halstead I ever heard of was from Essex.”
The chair under Darcy was spinning. So, he hadnotsimply forgot the man… he never existed! Wickham had him so persuaded that his mind had failed him, but the truth was that it was a fabrication all along! Darcy passed a trembling hand over his forehead.
“I… excuse me, Uncle, I…” Darcy cleared his throat, but it did no good. “I am afraid you have raised more questions for me than you have answered.”
“How so?”
Darcy closed his eyes and pressed his fingers into his eye sockets. “Uncle, forgive me. I believe I must return home. I… there is something I need to search for.”
Matlock drained the last of his glass. “Why the rush? You are not off to try to enact some sort of self-styled justice, are you?” He chuckled sarcastically. “Better men than you have already been foiled.”
“No, Uncle. That would be far beyond my means and is not remotely within my thoughts. I only noted an… an inconsistency in what I recall. I think I should like to investigate something.”
Matlock lifted his shoulders. “I probably ought not have told you all that, Darcy. You look as though a stiff breeze would knock you down. ‘Tis only the way of politics, my boy. Next year, it will be a different villain altogether. By the by, what brought you in so urgently today?”
Darcy swallowed. “Nothing, Uncle. Nothing at all.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Elizabeth walked briskly upthe path to Lucas Lodge, her thoughts churning with the conversation she had anticipated having with Charlotte. The chill in the air bit her cheeks, but she hardly noticed as she made her way to the door. She had hoped to find Charlotte in good spirits, but recent events made her doubt that was likely.
She was shown into the drawing room by a maid, where she found Charlotte arranging flowers with a practised hand. The room was warm and inviting, but Elizabeth could not shake the sense of unease that had settled in her chest.
“Good morning, Charlotte,” Elizabeth greeted, her voice light and cheerful. “I hope you are well today.”
Charlotte looked up, her expression brightening. “Good morning, Lizzy! It is so good to see you.” She set the flowers aside and motioned for Elizabeth to sit beside her. “How are the wedding preparations coming along?”
Elizabeth took a seat, smoothing her skirts as she did so. “As well as can be expected, I suppose. Mary is… content, and Mama is beside herself with excitement, as you can imagine.”
Charlotte smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. “I am glad to hear it. Mary deserves all the happiness in the world, and Mr Collins… well, he will be a dutiful husband, I am sure.”
Elizabeth watched her friend closely, noting the forced enthusiasm in her voice. “And you, Charlotte? How have you been?”
“Oh, I have been keeping busy,” Charlotte replied, her tone bright but hollow. “There is always something to do, you know. And Mr Wickham has been such a cheerful visitor. He calls on Papa nearly every day to discuss politics.”
Elizabeth’s brow furrowed slightly. “Mr Wickham? I did not know he was sointerested in politics.”
