Richard swirled his glass, grimacing. “I followed that prostitute the investigators dug up. Somewhere or another, she has obtained for herself a rather tidy stake. What they said of her last week was that her dress was perfectly scandalous, so threadbare was it. Today, she was dressed respectably, as a housemaid might have done. What is more, she is employed now at a boarding house nearby.”
“Boarding house!” guffawed Reginald. “Is that what they call those places now?”
“I use the term loosely. The interesting bit was that her employer is none other than Mrs Younge. You remember, Father, she was Georgiana’s companion last year.”
“Younge? No, I don’t remember.” The earl rolled his cigar between stubby fingers, blew a puff, then frowned at it in disgust. “Richard, on your next tour of duty, you must request a post in South America. These Brazilian cigars you had sent back from Portugal are loathsome.”
“You still have those? They must be three or four years old by now.”
“I never smoke them, but they are so impressively long that they make a handsome prop for conversation.”
“They are likely stale. I shall inform my general that only duty stations with excellent native cigars will do, so that I might send you a fresh lot.”
“Well and good,” gestured Reginald impatiently, “but what was this about a Mrs Younge? You did not say she used to be Georgiana’s companion!”
Richard shifted uncomfortably, realising now that in his distress and haste to gather information, he had nearly let slip a dangerous detail about Georgiana. “Mrs Younge was not the gentlewoman we took her for, and Darcy dismissed her,” he explained simply. “I suppose she found employment where she could, and I believe she had a generous severance with which to establish herself. I spoke with her, and she revealed that Darcy had been to her house on four occasions that week.”
“Four!” coughed the earl. “The boy should have married years ago. At least he could have gone to the Garden—”
“Father, I do not think his motive was what you assume. She told me that he had… personal business with one of her guests—agentleman, Father, though I cannot quite think the man deserves that appellation.”
“You think this fellow had Darcy attacked?”
Richard’s brow puckered as he downed a third glass of whiskey. “No… that is the part that puzzles me. The man of whom I speak is well known to me. He is a seducer, a cad, a liar, a gambler, and a cheat, but he is not a murderer. What is more, he stood to gain far more with Darcy alive.”
“So, he is not your man. What, then, have you gained? You wear yourself out hunting down information day by day, but it will not bring back Darcy.”
Richard stared hard at his father. “I know why Darcy was there, and I know that he had paid more than one visit. Anyone already planning to attack him would have learnt quickly where he was to be found vulnerable. I mean to find them out and bring them to justice!”
“Richard, listen to yourself! ‘Planning to attack him’? It was the work of an opportunist who saw a wealthy man to knock over! Darcy was simply in the wrong place, acting the fool without his carriage and a footman!”
Richard glanced at his brother, then back down to his empty glass. “Opportunists do not take the time to beat their victims. A quick throat slash, a knife in the ribs, and they escape quickly with their prize.”
“Rats travel in packs. There were likely several of them,” the earl grunted. “Darcy was a skilled fencer and boxer—he would have struggled, and they overpowered him.”
“Come, Richard,” his brother added, “you remember how we used to brawl as boys! When he reached his full height, I never could best him, and you only could after joining the army and learning to fight dirty.”
“There is more. I found a chap who seemed to frequent that boarding house—a smallish fellow he was, could never have taken Darcy alone, but I overheard him make some comment to that same wench about a wealthy man. I tried to get more information from him, but he was… unwilling to divulge. There was little more I could do there today. I was in uniform, and feared creating a scene, so—”
“Richard!” laughed Reginald. “You do not mean that you accosted some random chap in the street and beat him for information!”
“In a manner of speaking.”
Reginald shared a significant look with their father. “Brother, I am as concerned as you, but I fear you may be exhibiting signs of obsessive madness. Let the inspectors handle this! It is not the work of a decorated war hero to scavenge the back alleys for thugs.”
Richard tightened his grip on his glass, but then decided against sharing more of his misgivings. “Oh, what is the use?” He lifted his glass again for his brother’s ministrations.
The earl raised his bushy brows. “Careful, my boy, or we will have to call Giles and Harris to carry you up the stairs.”
“Passing out would be a mercy,” he retorted, and sloshed the meagre serving Reginald had poured.
“Well, before you do, let us settle the matter of Georgiana.”
“Must we speak of it now? The poor girl has just lost her only brother! She was already an orphan, and now she is completely alone. Let her have some time before we map out her life for her.”
“She is an heiress, with a fortune the like of which will have men murdering one another at Almack’s next season. George Darcy was a fool not to have imposed an entail on Pemberley, but there it is, and this is our problem. We currently have the wealthiest young lady in theton,next to the widowed Lady Blackthorne and Lord Ashby’s daughter—”
“Lord Ashby is having to sell off his smaller properties to cover his son’s gambling debts,” Reginald interrupted.
