Page 119 of Honor Requires

Langford, seated at his desk, folded his hands with deliberate care. “Prudent,” he replied. “Gardiner is not a man to be rushed, in any case.”

“No,” Hargrave agreed. “He prefers to believe himself the most cautious man in any room. It is a useful trait—when properly managed.” A brief pause followed. Hargrave shifted, his attention sharpening. “We have another difficulty.”

Langford’s gaze lifted. “Indeed?”

“Our friend,” Hargrave said, the faintest edge of distaste entering his voice, “is losing his nerve.”

Langford did not immediately respond. “In what manner?”

Hargrave turned then, abandoning the window at last. “Wickham approached me two days ago, uninvited and ill-timed. And most inconvenient in his purpose.”

Langford’s expression remained composed, though something in his eyes grew more intent. “Go on.”

“He is asking questions about the mining rights,” Hargrave said.

That, at least, drew a reaction. Subtle, but present.

“The current contract expires at the end of the year,” Hargrave went on. “I fear he does not intend to renew it.” His lip curled faintly.

Langford leaned back. “That is…unexpected.”

“It is intolerable,” Hargrave said, more sharply. “The man is not equal to such scruples. He has neither the discipline nor the constancy to sustain them. This is not principle. It is fear.”

“Fear of what?” Langford asked.

Hargrave’s gaze flicked toward him, cool and assessing. “Consequences, perhaps. Or exposure. Or he has simply simply understood what is already done. It matters little which. The result is the same.”

Langford considered this. “And you believe him likely to act upon it.”

“I believe him a liability,” Hargrave said.

The words fell with finality.

Langford was silent, his fingers tapping once against the surface of the desk before stilling.

“Then he must be managed.”

“Yes,” Hargrave said. “Which brings me to my sister.”

A flicker of recognition passed through Langford’s expression.

“Mrs. Younge.”

“She suggests that Mrs. Wickham be brought to town,” Hargrave said. “Removed from Pemberley. Placed where she may be…observed.”

Langford’s brows lifted.

“Used as leverage?”

“As a means of control,” Hargrave replied. “Wickham may hesitate for himself. He will hesitate more where his wife is concerned—particularly if her comfort, her reputation, or her security depend upon his cooperation. For what it is worth, he does care for the woman.”

Langford inclined his head. “A sensible precaution.”

Hargrave considered him briefly, then nodded once.

“It will also serve to remind him of the position he occupies. He has enjoyed the appearance of independence for too long. It has encouraged this present…delusion.”

“And Mrs. Wickham will come willingly?” Langford asked.