“Something must have occurred, but I confess I cannot make it out,” muttered one of the other officers darkly. “You could feel it the moment we came into the village. The militia is not wanted here today—that much is plain—but I know of nothing that could have brought it about.”
“Aye,” another agreed. “It is as though one of us has been found guilty of something, and we are all being made to answer for it.”
“Damned uncomfortable, that is what it was,” Sanderson said. “I would sooner face a French battery than endure another quarter hour in Bennet’s bookroom. If he speaks true, we shall meet the same civility elsewhere.”
Wickham frowned, as if struck by a sudden thought. “Was there not some toff or other at that great estate? I have heard him mentioned. I wonder whether, instead of it being a memberof the militia, he has done something to make every visitor suspect.”
“Fellow named Bingley leased the place for a time,” one man said with a shrug. “But I have heard little of him lately. He meant to give a ball, but nothing came of it. We met him some weeks back at that dinner to introduce the local gentlemen to the officers. Friendly enough chap. The last I heard he had gone off somewhere, and there were a fair number of mothers not pleased by it.”
“There were two more with him,” another man put in. “A brother by marriage, I think, and some other chap. Kept mostly to themselves. One did not say much, but he was well in his cups half the night. The other carried himself high, and I heard he has some grand estate up north somewhere.”
That information struck Wickham as interesting. “Do you know either of the other men’s names?” he asked.
“One was Hurt, or Hart, or something near it, and the other had a Frenchified name—D’Arcy, Dorsey, I could not say,” the man went on. “Sounded expensive, and he dressed it too. Not dandified like that Beau Brummell sort. Just… fine.”
Darcy.Wickham was certain of it.
“What came of the gentlemen?” he asked, striving for carelessness.
“I heard they all left,” the man replied. “Far as I know, Netherfield stands empty. I suppose they may simply have chosen to keep to themselves. Would not be the first time some grand gentleman decided he had no wish to mix with common folk.”
Wickham’s jaw tightened at that.
He needed to discover whether Darcy was indeed in the neighbourhood. If he was—and if he had learnt of Wickham’s presence—then he might very well be the source of their sudden difficulties. It would be just like Darcy to whisper broadly, to cast suspicion over the whole militia rather than accuse one man outright.
That way, he could wound Wickham without ever naming him.
Where Darcy went, would Georgiana follow? He would need to learn more about this Bingley fellow and determine whether he might be made useful.Was it possible that another opportunity with Georgiana might yet present itself?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Elizabeth found that, with the influx of callers at Millwood, there came a corresponding flood of invitations to card parties, dinners, and every variety of neighbourhood amusement. The party at Millwood took care to accept only those engagements that did not extend indiscriminately to the whole of the militia, and they were gratified to observe that, once the proper cautions had been given, most hosts had grown equally particular in their guest lists.
Some continued to include the colonel and a few of the senior officers; yet even so, the earl had resolved to be exceedingly selective in what he accepted, at least until he better understood when—or whether—his title might become more widely known after Hurst had spoken of it at Netherfield.
On that particular evening, they had agreed to attend a small dinner at Lucas Lodge. The Bennets of Longbourn had been invited, along with the Longs and the Gouldings, and, from what Elizabeth had gathered from Charlotte, that was to be the extent of the company. Mr Collins was also present, to the evident displeasure of those from Millwood; yet, after themanner in which he had been treated by her ladyship’s nephews at Longbourn, and having been repeatedly denied admission at Millwood Cottage, he had apparently resolved to avoid its residents for the evening.
She was therefore much surprised when Mr and Mrs Hurst were announced into the party. She had known them to be still at Netherfield, but had not imagined that the society of Meryton would hold sufficient attraction to draw them from it.
The couple started slightly at the sight of the earl, and Elizabeth watched them approach the small group where she stood beside her grandfather, who was deep in conversation with Mr Darcy and Mr Goulding.
“Good evening,” her grandfather said upon their arrival, fixing Hurst with a look of unmistakable authority.
“Good evening, Mr… Mr Grant,” Hurst replied, hesitating only a fraction over the name.
Elizabeth was obliged to lower her head to hide her smile when her grandfather gave a grave nod of approval. For one absurd moment, she thought he resembled a monarch bestowing favour.
The thought tempted her to glance towards Mr Darcy, but she found him already looking in her direction.
He, too, appeared to be struggling for composure, but when their eyes met, he let one lid fall in the briefest, most conspiratorial wink.
It startled her a little.
It was so unexpected, so unlike Mr Darcy’s previous behaviour, and for him to act so in company was most surprising. That fact,and that he had lowered his guard with her enough to tease her, even a little, delighted her.
Elizabeth’s amusement was cut short when Mrs Hurst spoke to her directly. “Miss Elizabeth,” she began, “I know it may seem odd, but might I speak to you for a moment?” She paused a moment before adding, “in private?”
Raising her brow slightly at this request, she glanced first at Mr Darcy, then at her grandfather. Neither man seemed to object, and since they would remain in the room, she agreed.
