“My connection to Richard is less obvious than yours. I can travel on the guise of looking after my investment.”
“Which investment?”
“The remounts, of course. My father amassed a small fortune when the estate needed it most by buying up foreign horses and selling them to the army. Through Houghton, I had a stake in those American horses that Richard was training for cavalry mounts, as did several others.”
“Blasted waste of his time.”
“Be that as it may, I would rather have had him stranded in the middle of nowhere overseeing cavalry remounts than charging the cannon.”
Reginald narrowed his eyes. “Bloody hell, Darcy. It wasyouwho had Richard sent to that god-forsaken wasteland!”
“Indeed, it was, and I am not ashamed to own it. I had words with the general and specifically requested that my business interests with the army would be overseen by someone better suited to the task. Colonel Marcus cost me a deal of money with his heedlessness, and those American mongrels he hired sounded little better.”
“When we find Richard, you had better hope he never learns of your little back-room deal with the general. He will flay you where you stand.”
“He is welcome to. I only wish he had not managed to have the assignment overturned so quickly.”
Reginald sighed. “That was probably Father’s doing. Had he only known what his meddling would procure…”
“Stop there. He knew Richard’s dearest wish was to be with his men, and he did as his son asked of him. Many a father would not do so much. But here, we forget the matter at hand. At this time of year, the weather round the Cape is still unpredictable, so I should think it might require nearly three weeks before I arrive. I’ve no notion of how long I would need to remain.”
Reginald shook his head and set aside his glass. “Wait a month before you go. It will be spring there soon, and perhaps by then we will have heard something more.”
Darcy frowned but relented in silence. The earl stood to idly poke the fire—more out of restlessness than necessity—and both turned a moment later when the door opened. The Countess of Matlock—the younger—breezed into the room with a cursory nod to Darcy.
“Good evening, Your Ladyship.” Reginald greeted his wife with a ceremonial bow and extended his hand.
She waved him impatiently away. “Enough of that, my dear. I’ve had enough formality for one day, and it is hardly necessary before Darcy.”
“Enough of formality!” he cried in mock concern. “My dear, what has happened?”
“That son of yours—”
Darcy smothered a tight smile as he watched Reginald and his wife wrestling with the trials of parenthood—most particularly, the parenting of a rather spoilt, slightly over-mothered noble heir. Theirs was not a conventional match of fortune and pedigree, nor yet was it a love match. Rather, it was something of both. Sheila Fitzwilliam,néeCovington, was the gilded daughter of a New York capitalist who, like many others, had come to England in search of a husband and a title. Buccaneers, some called them. The arrangement had its charms for both families, and particularly for the son of a depleted earl who was not too old or staid to be won over by the lady’s bold character and handsome face.
Darcy listened in amusement as the couple bantered over the most recent antics of their son—the earl steadily insisting that the boy ought to be sent to boarding school, the countess avowing that the event would take place over her dead body. For all their apparent disagreements, there was always a warmth and a regard present between them that frequently inspired a poignant longing in his own heart.
“—Let us ask Darcy his opinion on the matter.” The countess turned pointedly, her hand on her hip and an expectant look in her eye which he had come to know well enough. Just behind her, Reginald was rolling his eyes and casting up his hands. It was a scenario that had played out a dozen times before, and one in which neither gentleman ever prevailed. Nonetheless, Darcy inclined his head patiently.
“My pompous spouse believes that the child should not be permitted to make a sound at table, but I say that is a bit of primitive idiocy. Now, my dear little Sebastien feels compelled to act out—no doubt, he is frustrated that none permit him to behave as a child ought, so he has resorted to playing tricks on his Latin tutor and hiding from the maids.”
Darcy slid his eyes to the earl, who merely crossed his arms and scowled. “I would defer to the opinions of both,” he offered slowly. “While children, particularly boys, no doubt require much exercise and freedom in their idle hours to render them civilised creatures, I see no harm in requiring proper manners at table.”
“What he requires,” the countess declared, “is to be sent back to Derbyshire for the last of the fine weather this year.” At this, she tossed a daggered look over her shoulder at her husband.
“Can I help it if my present duties have obliged me to remain in London?” the earl protested. “But there is nothing stopping you and the children from going. I thought you should have gone to the estate with Mother a fortnight ago.”
The countess’s cheek twitched—Darcy saw it clearly and wondered at it. That the lady had no desire to part so long from her husband in favour of her mother-in-law was plain, but the notion was as foreign to him as many of her other whims. It was only what was proper and expected, after all, but the woman’s sentiments frequently held more power over her actions than decorum.
At last, she relented. “Very well. I shall order my things packed. Oh, Darcy, I am sorry you had to witness that. It is the strain, I suppose, telling on us all. I did so hope that something could be heard of our poor Richard by now. Have you learned nothing new?”
“I am afraid not.”
“Darcy here—” the earl gestured—“thinks he might discover more by going to South Africa himself, but I advised him to wait on the weather. Perhaps he can accompany you to Derbyshire, my dear, for there seems little more he can do here in London, and no doubt he will be wanted at Pemberley before he goes.”
“A wonderful idea!” the countess cried.
“But, regrettably, impossible,” Darcy informed her. “I have business, which will require me to remain some days longer in London.”
