“Oh, nothing out of the ordinary. Have you not seen Anne since we have been in Town?”
“No, I believe she has been shopping. She sent over a note yesterday in response to mine, and we are to attend Lady Gresham’s dinner party tomorrow evening.”
“Ah. Lucky for me, I shall be escaping again on tomorrow morning’s train.”
“So soon?” Darcy beckoned his cousin towards the dining room, where Georgiana was already waiting for them. “Then you were able to get what you needed from the War Office?”
“Hardly. They took the letters you brought back, looked over everything, and then some second-rate Lieutenant Colonel came out and told me it was under review.”
Darcy stopped and turned to his cousin. “Under review? What is there to review? It should be a simple matter of a death certificate and final documentation.”
“That is what I said, but they will not satisfy me.”
Darcy’s brow creased, and he started back towards the dining room. “Curious. They should have had time for confirmation from South Africa by now.”
“And then some,” Reginald agreed. “Do you know, Darcy, I begin to suspect there is some secret they are keeping from us.”
“What kind of secret would that be?”
“Well, I am sure I do not know, but does it not seem odd, the way it has all been carried out? I wonder if Richard got caught in some calumny—perished at the hands of his own troops by some scandalous accident or something of that nature.”
Darcy slowed his steps and squinted. “I spoke with Bellamy a few days ago, and he said something that struck me as odd, though I am certain there is nothing in it. Kenny-Kelly suggested that Richard had perished of sleeping sickness.”
“Many do,” Reginald agreed with a sigh. “More than are killed in battle, from what I understand.”
“Indeed, but Bellamy’s cousin wrote that some poor devil in the prison camp had survived the sickness. He was no longer in his right mind—a terminal simpleton, not even aware of his surroundings. He did not give the man’s name, but I cannot deny that the thought has occurred to me…”
Reginald groaned. “Good heavens. I pray it is nothing like that. I would rather have my brother honourably laid to rest than to think of him in such a state—more dead than alive.”
“Agreed. If it was something like that, I wonder if we will ever learn the truth.”
Reginald squeezed his eyes and grimaced. “Enough of such talk, Darcy. I came here to pass a quiet evening without drama or conflict.”
“Quite right.” Darcy pushed open the door to the dining room himself and held it for his cousin. “How was everyone when you left?” This he asked with a sly glance, a judicious touch—abitof curiosity was not suspicious, was it?
“Well enough. Ah, good evening, Georgiana.” Reginald bowed as he entered the room and exchanged courtesies and greetings for a moment. “Where was I? Oh, yes, I have been charged to remember—Sebastien wishes me to tell his uncle Darcy that he has grown a full inch since autumn. I reminded him you had seen him less than a month ago, but he insisted I tell you.”
“Then you may inform the young master I am looking forward to seeing him ride a full-sized Welsh Cob next summer. Better stop off at Tattersall’s, eh?”
“Do not encourage him!” Reginald pleaded, but with a proud grin on his face. “Our Elizabeth has already filled his head with so many romantic fantasies that every day brings a new shock. Last week it was feathers jutting out of the back of his hair. More recently, he decided she must teach him how to ride on a stock saddle, with a big broad hat, and to throw a—what is it they call that long rope? Mother nearly fainted when she heard it.”
Darcy laughed aloud. “I imagine so! Ahem… ah, how is Mrs Fitzwilliam? Has she been keeping occupied?”
“Well enough, I should say. I spoke to her the day before I left about the cottage. Poor girl, I did not mean to shock her as I did.”
“She does not wish to leave Matlock?” Darcy asked carefully.
“No, if anything I should say she intended a far more drastic removal than what we offered. She acted as if she had meant to strike out on her own entirely.”
“Indeed.” Darcy sipped from his glass, then cleared his throat. “Speaking of drastic removals, Georgiana and I have been speaking of her going to study at a music conservatory.”
Reginald brightened and looked at Georgiana in approval. “That is an excellent idea. Why, the Royal Conservatory in London is a fine institution, but there is also a magnificent one in Paris.”
“Actually…” Georgiana hesitantly raised her voice, “I was thinking of going to Boston.”
The Earl nearly choked. “Boston! No, no, no, my dear cousin. You want a classical institution, something well-founded and respected. Somewhere worthy of your talents and your place in society.”
“But the sort of music I wish to study is more easily found in Boston.” She leaned forward with a mischievous look. “Have you ever heard of Ragtime, Cousin?”
