Adrian Cranfield entered Coburg’s and took a seat. He had ridden past her many times, but this was the first time he had entered the establishment.
“Can I get you some refreshment, sir?” a slightly rounded older gentleman asked.
“Two pints.” Cranfield placed his coins on the table. The gentleman swept them into his hand and raised an eyebrow slightly at the request.
“My nephew will be joining me,” explained Cranfield.
“You have relatives near here?” The barkeeper turned from him for a moment. “Nate, two pints,” he called across the room. “My son. He’s learning to run the place. Does a fine job most days.”
“Always wanted a son,” commented Cranfield.
“No son? You have daughters then?”
Cranfield shook his head. “Never married. My nephew is the closest I have to a son.”
“And he’s from ‘round here?” Coburg patted his son on the shoulder as the younger man placed three tankards on the table. He grabbed one and slid onto the bench across from Cranfield.
“No, his family hails from the North, but he lives in Town now. He is visiting with friends.”
“And who are these friends?”
“One, Miss Bennet, I know only by name and not face though I am here in hopes of remedying that. He seems quite complimentary of her.” The two gentlemen shared a chuckle at that.
“Ah, the fancies of youth,” murmured Coburg.
“Aye.” Cranfield lifted his cup in salute. “I wish him better luck than I.” He took a drink of his ale and returned the mug to the table. “The other fellow, Darcy, I know well. A right fine gentleman he is.”
“That he is,” Coburg agreed. “Comes in to see me every time he visits his aunt.” He eyed Cranfield’s clothing. “Pardon me for saying so, but you do not appear to be of the same station as Mr. Darcy.”
“Aye, that I am not. I am a tradesman through and through, but Darcy has blinders on when it comes to class lines as long as a man has integrity and treats him well.”
Coburg mumbled his agreement.
Cranfield continued, “My sister and I both wished to see her son established as a gentleman, and Darcy has been assisting him with his search for an estate.”
“Ah,” Coburg rose from the bench as Darcy and Bingley entered the tavern. “Speaking of the devil,” he said with a grin. “I will get another pint. Nice to get to know a bit about those who darken my door.” He wiped his hand on his apron and extended it to Cranfield. “Jeremiah Coburg, my son is Nate. If you ever have need of anything, just give us a shout. And your name?”
“Adrian Cranfield. I travel these roads often. I shall have to make a point to rest my horse here.”
Mr. Coburg nodded and then greeted Darcy and introduced himself to Bingley.
“I see Coburg has been entertaining you. He is a talkative fellow. One must always spend a few moments informing him of your life before he will leave you to your business,” said Darcy. “Have you been waiting long?”
“Just a few minutes. If I had known you were coming, I would have had your beverage waiting for you.”
Coburg hustled over with the additional tankard. “Your uncle tells me that Darcy is helping you find an estate.”
“He is. I have a lease on one in Hertfordshire, but in all honesty, I have not spent a great deal of time there.” Bingley looked quickly at his uncle and then away. “My sister wished to spend the season in town.”
“And you hoped to marry her off?” There was a twinkle in the elderly gentleman’s eye. “Had more than one sister myself. At a certain age, they become unbearable until they have their eye on a man.”
“Not always.” Bingley chuckled and darted a look at Darcy. “It can grow worse if the gentleman has no eye for the sister.”
“Set her cap at Darcy, did she?” Cranfield chuckled. “She has high aspirations at least.”
“Aspirations that are about to be dashed.” Bingley lifted an eyebrow at his uncle and gave him a meaningful look.
Coburg, who had remained, leaning against the booth, nearly choked on his ale. “Darcy is getting married?”
Darcy grinned from ear to ear. “I am. You may have met her. She was staying with her cousin, the parson.”
Coburg looked confused. “Miss Bennet?” His eyes went from Darcy to Cranfield to Bingley and back to Darcy.
“Miss Bennet?” Cranfield repeated as confused as Coburg. “Did you not write me of a Miss Bennet you wished to court?” he asked his nephew.
“Yes,” replied Bingley.
Darcy laughed. “It is not the same Miss Bennet. I am to marry Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and Bingley here has his heart set on Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Elizabeth’s older sister.”
“So you shall be brothers in truth?”
“That is the hope, Uncle.”
Coburg shook his head and lowered his voice. “But Darcy, what of your cousin?”
“No need to fear, Mr. Coburg. She is also to be married, just not to me. It seems she is very fond of my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
“Fitzwilliam and Miss de Bourgh? Well, I never. Congratulations to the lot of you. Mr. Cranfield, it’s been a pleasure.” He nodded and left to care for a new set of customers who had entered.
Darcy eyed Bingley’s uncle, who had suddenly found the contents of his tankard to be worthy of close scrutiny. “I recently learned of an interesting connection between your family and mine.”
Cranfield nodded. “Aye, it is interesting. That is one way of saying it.”
“It seems I look a lot like you did at my age, Uncle.”
Cranfield nodded again. “That you do.”
“It nearly gave my aunt an apoplexy when she saw him. As it was, she had to be carried to a couch. It seems the incident could have been avoided.”
Cranfield shook his head. “No, it could not have been avoided. I was never to speak of it.”
“But you are here now, and you obviously recognize the name.” Bingley held his uncle’s gaze. “Do you still wish to accept Miss de Bourgh’s invitation for dinner?”
“I wish to take a ride.” Cranfield placed his empty cup on the table. “I will wait for you outside.” He stood quickly and with a wave of thanks to Coburg, exited the building.
He was already mounted when the two younger men exited. “This way.” He nodded toward his left and with a pat to his mount’s neck and a cluck of his tongue, he was gone. He only slowed when he neared the crest of a hill. It was not on the road; he had swung off the road a few minutes back and crossed some open field. He stopped under a cluster of trees and flicked his reins over a low branch. He patted his horse’s nose. Then, he turned and walked a few feet to the top of the crest.
“I have spent many hours in this spot,” he explained to Darcy and Bingley, who had joined him. “It was the closest I dare come to seeing her.” He nodded toward the manor house in the distance. “I know the land well from all my studying. There,” he motioned to his left, “is a new orchard started just seven years ago. And there, that groom, always wears a bit of red somewhere on his person. He just started working for her two years ago. Not much I don’t know about the place. And it is why I was glad to have your invitation. There’s trouble afoot, but I could not contact anyone. It was part of the agreement.” He spat on the ground. “And since your Uncle John’s been gone, Darcy, I have had not a word from anyone of her family, but then again, I only heard from John on rare occasions when he thought it safe to contact me.”
“So my invitation, or more correctly Miss de Bourgh’s invitation, breaks the agreement in a way that is acceptable?”
Cranfield nodded.
“The agreement?” Darcy began. “It was between you and the late Lord Matlock?”
“It was, but not just he is aware of it. There are still a few who remain and could cause mischief if the terms of the agreement are breached.”
“So, even after you learned of the first Lord Matlock’s death and then Sir Louis’ death, you were bound by this agreement and had no way to safely contact my aunt?”
“Precisely.” He turned and looked at Bingley. “I still am not completely certain my acceptance of your invitation will not cause harm. You must know that should those who remain decide to take action against me, any remaining inheritance you were to receive on my death would be gone.” He drew a long breath. “My death would not be far into the future and could bring a great deal of shame to you unless you disavow me as a family member. Before I set one foot on de Bourgh’s land, you must promise me that you will cut all ties with me should it be necessary.”
“I…I am not sure I can make that promise.”
“You must, or not only you but your sisters and any chance you might have of happiness with Miss Bennet will be affected. The knowledge that you will endure the same unhappiness I have is not something I wish to ponder for the remainder of my life, fleeting as it might be.”
Bingley shook his head, and removing his hat, ran a hand through his hair. “Then, I have no option but to promise.”
“Then I will join you for dinner. Lord and Lady Matlock are in attendance?”
“They are.” Bingley looked at his uncle in confusion.
“I listen. There are people who talk.”
“People you will not tell us about?” asked Darcy.
“Exactly.”
“Will you tell us of the trouble you mentioned or the danger you face?”
“It is intricately tied together.” Cranfield gave Darcy a guarded look.
“Being well-informed is not always the safest choice.”
“So there are those who do not wish for this information you have to be known.”
Cranfield nodded and tapped his nose.
Darcy turned so that his back was to Rosings and his face was to Cranfield. “It has something to do with the French and at least part of Rosings’ lands?”
Cranfield’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know?”
“Not much,” said Darcy. “Richard was nearly killed so that he would not be able to court Anne. Then, Anne received a proposal from a gentleman who was very intent upon gaining Rosings and equally as angry at her refusal. The same man was behind the attack upon Richard. And while Richard was lying on the ground after the attack, he heard the men this man had hired talking about a wagon and the French.”
“You speak of Barrows?”
Darcy nodded. “I do.”
“Will he be at the dinner this evening?”
“No, but his sister may be.”
Cranfield cursed. “Then your promise, Nephew, may indeed be called upon.” He looked out away from Rosings. “My boats dock near here. As everyone is aware, there are those who profit from the importation of goods which are restricted or prohibited. Some profit from perfectly legal goods transported in such a way as to avoid taxation. My company does not deal in such goods. However, what is truth and what is made to appear as truth are often two very different things.”
“They will lie about you?”
“They will not just lie about me. They will make it look like I have betrayed my country. They do not wish to merely have my reputation tarnished; they will make sure I hang.”
“Then why attend this dinner?”
Cranfield looked at the ground. “I have been offered a chance to see her,” he whispered. He lifted eyes that shimmered with unshed tears to his nephew. “I long to see her one last time and to do what I can to protect her.”
“The trouble you mentioned?”
Cranfield nodded. “As you have mentioned, there are those who are most anxious to gain possession of Rosings, but we must leave. We have been here too long already.” He nodded to a couple of horsemen, who were off in the distance but decidedly headed toward them. He hurried over to his horse. “It appears my crossing onto de Bourgh land will not go unnoticed.” He swung up into his saddle. “Gentlemen, l would appreciate it if you would flank me until we are at the house.”
“You think they would shoot at you?”
“It would not be the first time.” With a last look over his shoulder at the approaching men, he took his place between his nephew and Darcy. “Do you think she will even see me?”
Darcy smiled. “She will see you though she fears you will not wish to see her.”
“Why would she think that?”
“What is truth is not always what is made to appear as truth, or some such thing a wise man once told me.” Darcy gave Cranfield a wink as he nudged his horse to go faster. “I suggest we speak of it at the house where there is less chance of our conversation being interrupted by gunfire.”