Page 47 of Honor Requires

“Fortune?” That would be helpful, for Darcy would have no access to the money that was rightfully his. I shall take my revenge on Hargrave and any other who helped put me here.

“Yes, though that is a tale for another day. I must go or I shall not be back in my cell for dinner. After the guards do their final night check, I shall return. We must plan our escape.” Lucien lowered himself into the hole, and Darcy carefully put the blocks back in place. The spot was not visible from the door, which made concealment easy. Darcy sat on his pallet, staring at the place where Lucien had emerged. An unfamiliar feeling filled him, one he had thought lost.

It is hope, he realized.

They began digging the next night. Time passed faster now, thanks to having a congenial conversationalist and hope of an escape. Lucien did not possess refined manners, for his family had not moved in finer circles. Thus, Darcy spent time teaching the other man how to speak and act like someone from London society. In return, Lucien taught Darcy the Savoyan dialect, the geography and history of the area, and information about the ruling class. There were several family names that had been lost to time.

“Valdieri, Dantès, Benoit, Bellier… Why? What need have you for a new name?”

“I intend to take revenge on those responsible for my imprisonment. I shall need a new identity, one of power that cannot easily be confirmed.” Darcy chipped away at the stone, passing a chunk back to Lucien.

His friend was silent. Then, “Darcy, I know you were wronged—as was I. Revenge is not the answer. Such actions will only poison your soul.”

“I have spent hours contemplating what I might find when I return to London. If Hargrave went through the trouble to see me imprisoned, I must assume he got what he desired, and has mined Pemberley’s land into ruin. Is it so terrible to wish for justice—for the return of my rightful property?”

“That is far different from revenge. It is possible to expose a crime without losing your soul in the process.” Lucien took a rock Darcy passed back.

“Then you will have to show me how it is done.” The rage still burned hot in Darcy’s chest. “For I have every intention of claiming what belongs to me.”

“There is likely more to be discovered. You will need all the pieces in place. But let us speak of happier things.”

Darcy told Lucien about life at Pemberley, his family, and Elizabeth. He seemed very interested in the latter and asked all manner of questions about the young lady who held Darcy’s heart.

“She sounds like a treasure. I can hardly wait to meet her.”

Darcy shook his head. “She has likely married. Her family situation would have required it.” The thought pained him, for Elizabeth had been his match in every way.

“If she is as you paint her, I cannot imagine it being so.”

“If it is, then I shall never marry. There can never be another to me as Elizabeth is.” Darcy treasured thoughts of the young lady who had captured his heart in Ramsgate.

“Do you not believe she will feel the same way? Surely, if you captured her heart, she will find it difficult to love another.”

Darcy scoffed. “Love has little to do with it when it comes to security. Elizabeth must be nearing five-and-twenty now. She likely married long ago to secure her future.”

“That does not seem in line with the woman you have described, my friend. From what you have told me, I expect this Elizabeth is a woman of great loyalty, one who gives her love readily and does not easily grant the same gift to another. I suppose a marriage of convenience is the next best thing for a woman who has lost her love, for she would not be expected to lose that organ again. It is a safe path to take. Still, your Elizabeth does not seem the type.”

“Your suppositions are accurate based on what I know.” Still, Darcy wondered if his beautiful, vibrant Elizabeth could resist another man’s attention. She could not help her manifold attractions.

As the weeks turned to months, and the months into something more enduring, their work proceeded with steady purpose. Each handful of loosened earth, each stone shifted from its place, brought them closer to freedom—and to whatever truths awaited beyond these walls.

Even as Darcy labored, his thoughts often turned inward.

Why had he been brought here, rather than simply killed?

The question lingered, persistent and unresolved. Hargrave was not a man inclined to half measures, and Darcy lived—imprisoned, silenced, erased. There must have been purpose in it.

Control. Power. Some motive not yet revealed.

Lucien’s earlier words returned to him with insistence. There is likely more to be discovered.

Darcy began to consider not only what had been done to him, but what had been gained.

Pemberley. Georgiana. If he had been declared dead—or simply vanished—what protections remained? His cousin Richard would have taken guardianship. Even that, however, could be circumvented with careful manipulation, with influence, with deceit.

Marriage. The thought struck him with sudden force. If Georgiana had been persuaded—coerced—into a marriage advantageous to another…

Darcy’s hands stilled. “No,” he murmured, though whether in denial or determination, even he could not say.