Partway down the left side, one of the bars rested against the wall, though the door stood shut like the others. Richard must be inside. “I have come to speak with my cousin.”
The clerk glanced at the unbarred door. “He is busy at the moment, sir.”
“Then tell him to un-busy himself.” Before the man could answer, Darcy leaned forward to demand, “How many of those rooms are occupied?”
Another quick look over his shoulder between the stoic guards. “I am not certain that is information that I am permitted to pass along to you, sir.”
“I am,” Darcy growled. “Or do you want me to fetch Mr. Bingley down here? This is, is it not, his leased property?”
The clerk looked about yet again, but the guards were no help, doing their best to appear deaf. He tugged at his collar. “I could fetch Col—Ah, Mr. Darcy, for you, sir?”
“I believe that would be best.”
Finally setting down his pen, the clerk rose. He reached the un-barred door and knocked, then took up an at-attention stance. A moment later it opened. A head, not Richard’s, stuck out.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam would like to speak with Mr. Darcy,” the clerk said.
The head disappeared, the door closing. Darcy’s impatience grew.
Richard strode out, drying his hands on a cloth that he handed to the clerk. He murmured instructions to the man, who nodded and went in, then came up the hall. Pausing at the two guards, Richard ordered, “Take up position at the far end of the hall for now.”
Both nodded, saying, “Yes, sir,” in a crisply military way in which no one would reply to Mr. Darcy of Pemberley. They marched down the hallway.
Finally, Richard came to stand across from Darcy, the clerk’s table-turned-desk a barrier between them. “Well?”
Darcy’s gesture took in the room, the hall, the many barred doors. “What do you think you are doing down here?”
“Holding and interrogating men who came to Hertfordshire for the express purpose of murdering you.”
If Richard meant to shock Darcy into accepting that as an excuse for what was quite obviously illegal imprisonment, he would be sorely disappointed. “How many men do you have down here? When, exactly, did they make these attempts? About what are you questioning them?”
“None of your concern, over the past several weeks, and, again, none of your concern.”
Darcy frowned at his cousin. “I recall but two attempts and I was made to understand that the one on the day of my arrival was the first.”
“I cannot imagine who made you understand that, because it was not me.”
Richard appeared every inch an officer, a persona Darcy knew he could don or shed at will, and which intimidated him not at all. “It is quite obvious that you have been holding some of them for weeks.” He lowered his voice to add, “Have you not heard of habeas corpus?”
“They will stand trial, never fear.”
“Legally, they must be brought before a judge. Swiftly.”
Richard braced his knuckles on the tabletop, leaning closer. “They will be.”
Darcy matched his stance. “You expect me to believe you do not know what the word ‘swiftly’ means?”
“They have been informed that they will not stand trial until the first of December.”
“That is nearly two months away.”
“December first will be upon us in under six weeks. ‘Nearly two months’ is an exaggeration. I have been under the impression that you were taught to count.”
“And I assumed you were given a basic understanding of languages and the laws written in them.” Darcy jabbed a finger down the hallway. “Those men must go to London and appear before a magistrate.”
They locked glares. Darcy’s jaw ached with the strain of his scowl.
Richard pushed off the tabletop, straightening. “We cannot take them back to London yet. We cannot risk word that coming to murder Mr. Darcy is a trap. Our plan is working well, and—” Richard broke off with a glare as Darcy opened his mouth to speak, then continued, “And, if you must know, what I amquestioning them about is where they learned of the bounty and who their fellows are. Leniency has been promised to anyone who gives us information that results in the imprisonment of other criminals. Transportation rather than death.” Richard’s voice became beseeching as he continued, “We are doing a great deal of good here, Darcy.”
