He could not imagine for what they might require him. To his knowledge, his relations were all in fine health. Nor could there be any changes to the documents they held for Darcy. He still had not found a woman who interested him. He had no heir. He had, as she was currently the last of the Darcy line, left nearly everything to Georgiana. Darcy longed for that to change but saw no prospect of it doing so anytime soon.
All of which rattled through his head as he entered the mahogany-clad waiting room of Watson, Hastings, and Vane.
Looking up at the sound of Darcy’s entrance, the clerk immediately stood to bow. “Mr. Darcy.”
“Mr. Smith. A request was made for my presence.”
“Yes, sir. I believe Mr. Hastings sent that around, sir. He has papers for you to look over and sign, sir.”
Papers? What could that be about?“Very well. Please inform Mr. Hastings that I have arrived.”
Harold Smith, one in a series of young men with similarly bland names who had sat at the clerk’s desk over the years, bowed again and disappeared deeper into the warren of offices. Rather than sit in any of the armchairs or sofas positioned for that purpose, Darcy remained standing, though he did doff his hat. Hastings never kept him waiting long.
Sure enough, Smith returned shortly with, “Mr. Hastings will see you in his office, sir.”
Darcy waved him to sit. “I know the way.”
“Do you require any refreshments, sir?”
“No.” Darcy didn’t intend for the meeting to take long enough for refreshments. He’d been on the road from Pemberley for some days already and was keen for an evening of rest at Darcy House before resuming his journey south.
Hastings awaited him in the open doorway of his office, bowing Darcy in with a repetition of, “Do you require any refreshments, Mr. Darcy?”
“No. Simply an explanation of why you requested my presence.”
“Ah, yes. Nothing dire, never fear.” Hastings gestured for Darcy to take the chair before his desk, then moved around the cumbersome furnishing. He slid some papers across the desktop.
Darcy leaned over to examine them. He spotted Richard’s signature and scooped the document up for closer inspection. “This is about Georgiana’s dowry?”
“It is. Colonel Fitzwilliam seems plagued by some sort of notion that Miss Darcy’s assets require greater protection.” A glance showed Hastings’ indulgent smile. “Quite possibly because he is so far away, and feels somehow derelict in his duty as co-guardian.”
“Hm,” Darcy uttered, to show he attended the other man’s words even as he read. “In essence, this seems to say that mysister’s dowry will not be paid out until she is either five-and twenty, or upon the presentation of a document signed by both myself and Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“You have a perfect grasp of what your cousin intends, yes.”
“Until she is twenty-one, Georgiana cannot marry without such a document from the two of us.” Darcy tossed the papers back onto the desk. “I fail to see that this changes much. If we agree to permit her to marry, we will presumably approve of the gentleman and want him to have her dowry so she may be afforded the best life possible.”
Hastings nodded. “I agree, it changes little. I believe it will provide your cousin with greater assurance that he is doing his duty by Miss Darcy, however.”
Darcy frowned. The document was completely unnecessary. Yet, if Richard had gone to all the trouble to have the papers mailed about, or perhaps to have them made up the last time he was on leave, there was little harm in signing them. Darcy could appreciate that his cousin wanted to take a more active role in his guardianship of Georgiana, difficult for Richard to do when he was away so often.
Finally, Darcy shrugged. There was no harm in the change. Surely, when permission was sought for Georgiana’s hand, her dowry could be granted as well. It amounted to more paperwork for a clerk at Watson, Hastings, and Vane, but little more than an extra signature for Darcy and for Richard.
“Very well. I will sign.”
Hastings’ smile held more relief than Darcy had expected. He unstoppered the ink, then slid the bottle and an already trimmed pen across to Darcy. While Darcy signed, Hastings produced three more copies from a desk drawer, already made up in obvious expectation of agreement. One for Darcy, one for Richard, one to keep on hand, and one to store in the firm’s vault at one of London’s most prestigious banks. Watson, Hastings,and Vane were always very thorough, and Darcy respected them for that.
The papers signed, Darcy bid Hastings good day, took his copy, and returned to Darcy House. His foot had hardly touched the first of the five steps that led up to the front door when his butler yanked it open. Taking in the man’s strained visage, Darcy trotted up with a frown.
Now what?
“Sir.” His butler held out a missive. “This arrived shortly after you went out, via special courier. It is from Mrs. Younge, and the man reported that he was told it is exceedingly urgent.”
“Mrs. Younge?” Darcy repeated, worry shooting through him. He fumbled with the seal, his fingers clumsy with alarm. Mrs. Younge would not employ a special courier for anything less than dire news. Tearing the thick paper in his haste, Darcy unfolded the letter.
He skimmed past the shakily written salutation to read;
I do not know how to impart this news, sir, but I fear your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, has absconded with Miss Darcy. Last week, I fell suddenly ill during tea. It was not until yesterday that I recovered my senses and discovered Colonel Fitzwilliam informed the staff that he was removing Miss Darcy from the threat of my illness. I can only be thankful the housekeeper had the good sense to keep the remainder of the staff calm, and not to abandon me.
