Chapter Forty-Five

Thomas Bennet and William Wickham shared a fine brandy in a private room at the Superintendent’s London club. The early summer sun shone through the high set windows, illuminating the bastion of masculine solidarity. Both men sat silently enjoying their libation as the discrete footman withdrew from the chamber. “I must tell you again how honored I was to be invited to the wedding,” Wickham said. “If not for the aftermath of the LaFontaine matter, I would have certainly attended. How was it?”

“Much like any wedding, if one’s daughter is not involved,” Bennet replied. He sipped slowly as he let his mind wander back to the blessed event. “Darcy and Lizzy had wanted a simple ceremony, with a guestlist limited to family and close friends. But between Mrs. Bennet and Lady Catherine, the event grew to almost preposterous proportions. At least we were spared the outlandish officiating of my Cousin Collins through the fortuitous appearance of a Bishop from some remote branch of the Darcy genealogy.”

“Perhaps it is just as well I did not make an appearance?”

“Perhaps. I am not too certain that my newest son is completely content with your continued consultation with his new bride. He might have had words with you.”

“Then he is likely to be even less pleased when I offer her a permanent role in the Office. Hers is too precious a talent to waste in the wilds of Derbyshire.”

“Do you think that wise?”

“Even worse, I wish to recruit Darcy as well. The Crown needs his service as something more than a mere magistrate.”

Bennet contemplated his words for a moment. “That might just work. Individually they are formidable. Together they are nigh unstoppable. And together is likely the only way they will agree to such a proposal. But I hope you will not think less of me if I wish for them to refuse. They deserve some real peace and happiness.”

After several more minutes of companionable silence, Whiskey asked, “Do you think she can?”

Bennet looked at his old university friend. Though it had been many years since their adventures together, the Master of Longbourn still understood the man’s skewed thinking as well as anyone. To him the cryptic query was plain. Lizzy had managed to permanently and completely remove LaFontaine’s gift, a feat unparalleled in the annals of British history. The question on many knowledgeable minds was if it was an inimitable conflation of situation, her own exceptional ability, and some element of synergy with LaFontaine’s own unique gift or if she could replicate the feat on her own. Such a capability was world-shaking. If she were able to remove gifts, she could literally change the foundations of their society. “I don’t know. To be honest, I hope not. It is too much responsibility for any person to bear. Too much power. Too much fear and enmity. I would certainly not wish it on my dear Lizzy.”

Both men silently considered the even more frightening possibility. If Lizzy could take gifts away permanently, was it possible she could also instill them permanently where they never existed before? Could she make a null into a wilder? That was an even greater threat to the status quo and could set all the power of the Crown and the entire gifted society in deadly opposition to her. Bennet prayed that she would never seek to discover if this was within her means. It was too dangerous to know.

Given that dreadful possibility he refused to consider why she might have been spending so much time in company with Mary in the time between Purfleet and the wedding. He could only hope that it was merely an extended discussion of Ordinary politics and sharing of Lizzy’s new contacts in London. He determined to have a cautionary talk with both of the girls. None of them could afford for Mary to begin displaying a gift, no matter the good intentions that might lie behind their hypothetical origin.

Thinking of his two politically active daughters brought his youngest to mind. Lizzy and he had decided that Lydia’s vigor need a safer outlet. They worked together with her to prepare her to take over Lizzy’s role as sheriff of Longbourn. He knew she would need more supervision than Lizzy had, but he was determined to grasp the opportunity to help shape her into a more sensible girl. He knew he needed to rectify his own behavior to ensure his younger daughters futures.

Thoughts of Lydia’s folly sparked a question. “Has young Lieutenant Wickham ever been recovered?”

The elder Wickham made a moue of distaste at the mention of his scofflaw relation. “It seems the ship that LaFontaine had stowed him aboard set sail at the launching of the second flare. Our best intelligence is that the captain was a hireling rather than a fellow traveler. He must have seen the second flare as a signal that the battle was going against his patron and decided to cut bait.”

“Or he was swayed by Lieutenant Wickham’s silver tongue. I know from experience that the man’s influence is insidious. Any idea where the ship went?”

“It was originally bound for Malta, officially. Though it is more likely that it would have made at least one stop on the French coast somewhere, if not ended its voyage there. As is, it seems to have sailed for Ireland. None of our agents have found when or where my young cousin debarked, but he was not on board when the Navy finally tracked the ship down.”

“So, he is in the wind?”

“Indeed.”

“That’s too bad. I would like to have words with that young man. So LaFontaine is the only prisoner taken?”

“The only one of import,” Whisky agreed. “We have Graves, and several of the XO’s, but the only two English gifted involved in the conspiracy, Georgie boy and Cranmer, are gone.”

“That’s a shame. Have you managed to get anything useful out of the Frenchman?”

“Unfortunately, the damage your daughter did to his brain seems to have deprived him of most of his higher functions. Even my gift cannot compel any response from him. From his signet ring we feel we have traced his true provenance, from the Danton family. But beyond that ... nothing.”

“Let me know if I can be of any help.”

“Thank you. I may yet take you up on that offer.”

After another lengthy silence Bennet turned the conversation to more pleasant topics. “Did you get Lord Spencer’s invitation? Mr. Dibdin tells me that it has to do with old Roxburghe’s library ...”

That evening Bennet made ready for his last dinner at Darcy House. He had come to Town on business, but had accepted Lizzy’s invitation to stay in her new townhouse, despite the fact that she and her newly wed husband were preparing for their wedding trip to Scotland. He had brought Mary, who was to spend the summer with the Gardiners.

“One can only hope Lord Liverpool will survive Mary’s presence.” He said to himself. Then grimaced. It was barely a month since the assassination of the late Prime Minister, Mr. Percival. While his assassin, Bellingham, had no political motive; the mere fact that he was a merchant, a null, had caused increased political unrest in the capitol. But Mary had refused to let that curtail her designs, and surprisingly Lizzy and Mrs. Gardiner had agreed. Bennet felt his daughter was likely unprepared for the troubled waters Ordinary politics must be at present. But she would either thrive among the chaos, or she would return wiser for the experience. He determined he would maintain a regular correspondence with her to offer his support and advice.

He joined his daughter and their hosts at the table. The conversation, as always was thoughtful and wide ranging. With every exposure he was growing more fond of his son-in-law and more proud of his Lizzy. Eventually the discussion wended its way to his afternoon assignation.

“I hope your time with Mr. Wickham was pleasant,” Lizzy said. Bennet found it amusing that Darcy’s face froze at the mention of the Superintendent. The taciturn man was not as good at hiding his feelings as he might think.

“And surely ye'll be your pint-stoup! and surely I'll be mine! And we'll tak' a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne. Or something of the sort, in honor of your Scottish sojourn. We are old acquaintance that have not quite been forgot.”

“And did your old acquaintance mention that he made an offer to Elizabeth to join his office in a full-time capacity?” Darcy was obviously not happy about the idea.

“He did. He mentioned that he felt that both of you, together, could be of great use to the nation.” He stopped and sipped his wine. “Of course, I told him that you should both turn him down flat.”

“Why, father?” Mary asked. He did not think she was disagreeing, so much as delving for his reasoning to better understand.

“I think it can be easily argued that these two have done enough, given enough for King and Country. The have earned their peace and happiness.”

“That’s true. But the same could be said for many still serving,” Mary countered.

Silence settled over the table as Lizzy and Darcy gazed deep into each other’s eyes, carrying out an entire conversation without words. Bennet and Mary sat as spectators, acknowledging the importance of the turning point in the young couple’s lives.

“Great responsibility follows inseparably from great power,” Elizabeth quoted.

“Peace is a privilege that must be earned through the efforts of those that can fight for those that cannot,” Darcy added.

With a great sigh, both nodded.

“Duty,” Lizzy said.

“Duty,” Darcy agreed.

“But not until after your honeymoon. Even paladins need a holiday.” Bennet had known they would make that choice. Duty and responsibility were at the center of their characters.

Soon enough Old Whiskey would be welcoming Britain’s newest agents – Mr. & Mrs. Darcy.

The End