Page 75 of Honor Requires

Darcy’s voice was low. “The timing.”

Stone inclined his head. “It aligns precisely, sir. Mr. Wickham’s attentions toward Miss Darcy began before your disappearance. The marriage followed closely upon it. The transfer of rights came soon after.”

Darcy exhaled slowly, though there was no relief in the motion. “While I was…otherwise occupied.”

Stone did not answer that.

Lucien’s voice was sharp. “He married her while you rotted in a cell.”

Darcy said nothing. He did not need to. A silence fell, heavy and deliberate. At length, Darcy spoke again. “Wickham himself?”

Stone shifted. “He spends the greater part of his time in Town, sir. He is known at several gaming establishments and is not…moderate in his habits.”

“Drinking,” Lucien said.

“And gambling,” Stone confirmed. “To excess, by all accounts. There are debts—though they are frequently settled, and often by means not entirely clear. It is likely some of the funds come from the mining proceeds.”

Darcy’s gaze narrowed. “He avoids Pemberley.”

“Yes, sir. He resides there only intermittently. The estate itself is managed by the steward, though I am told the direction does not always originate with him.”

Darcy’s expression did not ease. “It would not.”

Stone inclined his head. “There is more.”

Darcy gestured. “Go on.”

“Mrs. Younge,” Stone said. “She remains at Pemberley.”

Lucien’s brows rose. “Still? Darcy, a married woman does not require a companion…not usually.”

“Yes, sir,” Stone confirmed. “She is in Mrs. Wickham’s employ.”

Darcy’s gaze sharpened further. “Explain.”

Stone hesitated only a fraction of a second. “Mrs. Younge is connected to Mr. Hargrave.”

Darcy’s voice lowered. “In what manner?” There was something building in his gut. It clenched and twisted, making him nauseous.

Stone met his eyes. “She is his sister.” The words settled with a finality.

Lucien let out a low breath. “That is too convenient to be coincidence.”

“No,” Darcy said, his tone very still. “It is not coincidence.”

He turned away, his thoughts aligning with swift, cold precision. “She was placed. From the beginning.”

Stone inclined his head. “It would appear so, sir. Furthermore, the house in Ramsgate, Mill House, is owned by Hargrave.”

Darcy was silent, then said, “You will learn everything you can of her. Her movements, her correspondence, her associations. I want her life laid open.” It was clear the conspiracy to imprison Darcy was more tangled and complex than he had suspected. They planned this for months.

“Yes, sir.”

“And Hargrave? What of him?”

Stone nodded. “He is well established, sir. He moves freely among the first circles, presenting himself as a man of enterprise and considerable means. His money has bought him access.”

Darcy’s lip curled faintly. “Means and money acquired at my expense.”