It was the human element that was distressing to him. As distasteful as it was in one respect, there was no option but to dismiss Haggar and Merran for imbibing alcohol while on duty. There were a number of other mills in the area where they could seek employment, but Derby was a small community and word would spread. Few employers were as strict regarding the no alcohol rule as Mr. Shultz, but a fire was universally looked upon with horror. Whether the men would be able to attain adequately paying work locally was questionable. Shultz was far more pragmatic than his partners, and he simply shrugged his shoulders, completely unmoved. Kinnison and Darcy wavered a bit, but in the end the decision was clear.
On the third day, Darcy rode with Richard and a foreman named Rhodes to the tiny house in the middle of town where the widow Hendle resided. Mrs. Hendle greeted them with subdued politeness, eyes swollen and red. The Hendle children clustered around her, the youngest of four and five years clutching her skirts and staring with wide-eyed fright at the tall, well-dressed, formal man. The eldest, a skinny boy of thirteen, halted his chore of chopping wood and stood with sharpened axe in hand as he glowered at the men.
Darcy bowed. “Mrs. Hendle, I am Mr. Darcy. Please accept my deepest sympathies for your loss.” She nodded, wiping at teary eyes and murmuring her thanks. Darcy continued, “I confess I did not personally know your husband, but Mr. Shultz assures me he was an excellent foreman.” He handed her a parchment wrapped bundle. “Per DKS Midlands policy, Mrs. Hendle, you will find the equivalent of one month’s salary. Your position will be held for two weeks, as you have been informed, to allow for grieving. Please let us know as soon as you possibly can what your plans are.”
Mrs. Hendle sniffled. “This is our home, sir. We got no place to go. The mill’s been good to us so we’ll be back, me and the young ’uns.” Her hand swept the yard to encompass her son as well as the twelve-year-old girl standing behind her. “DKS has the best pay and all, we won’t go nowheres else, milord.”
Darcy nodded, opening his mouth to speak, but the eldest son had stepped closer and interrupted with a grumble, “If it’s so great how come my da is dead?”
“Jerome!” His mother gasped. “I am so sorry, sir! You watch your tongue young man and apologize to Mr. Darcy this instant!”
“I will not! His stupid mill killed my da!”
Mrs. Hendle was crying in earnest, attempting to choke out something, anything, to placate the tall, stern man with the reputation for kindness and fairness, but also stringency and nobility. Darcy cut her spluttering short with nothing more than one raised finger her direction, piercing gaze riveted on the teenager.
Jerome flushed under Darcy’s forceful but sympathetic stare, but he bravely stared back, lifting his chin slightly as if to challenge. When Darcy spoke it was softly, but with an unmistakable edge of authority and faint contempt. “Mr. Hendle, is it your opinion that your father was a fool?”
“No! How could you—”
“A man makes his own decisions in life, Mr. Hendle. Your father made his. He was a miller, a foreman in my company, and trusted with tremendous responsibility. He worked hard for his place and knew precisely what it entailed. Do you mean to slander his name by insinuating he was ignorant of the risks?” He paused, allowing the grieving boy to assimilate his words. “He took great pride in his work, was brave and strong. His sacrifice will not be forgotten. Do not allow your sorrow to cloud your judgment, Mr. Hendle. I do not claim to be an expert on theological matters, but I believe that our loved ones watch us from the Heavens. Do you wish for your father to witness your disrespect?”
Jerome shook his head shortly, eyes now downcast and axe fallen to rest on the ground, but he held his back straight and shoulders firm. Darcy smiled faintly, glancing to Mrs. Hendle and nodding slightly. The poor woman was speechless, tears falling in huge glistening drops down her cheeks.
“You are the man of the house now, Mr. Hendle. Make your father proud. Mrs. Hendle, you have my sympathies. If there is anything you require, Mr. Shultz will assist you.”
She curtseyed shakily, Darcy bowing again before he turned and mounted Parsifal. Rhodes leaned close and said, “I will keep a close eye on that boy, Mr. Darcy. He may give us trouble.”
“There is no need. Take him out of the spinning room, away from his mother. Give him more responsibility. The carding machine, I think. Work him hard for a while, exhaust him, and he will give you no trouble.” Rhodes looked dubious, Darcy smiling grimly and finishing with confidence as they rode away, “Trust me, I know how best to deal with grief.”
“Today is Alexander’s birthday and I am missing it.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam, out of uniform and comfortable in a black suit of wool, peered over the rim of his wine glass at the morose cousin sitting across their secluded table in the Georgian’s opulent dining hall. Darcy was staring at his plate, mien serious as he played with the remains of dinner, fork absently scoring trenches through a small pile of mashed yams. Richard frowned, completely at a loss as to what Darcy meant.
“Ah, Cousin, unless I have slept through all of 1818, a year has not passed.”
Darcy chuckled, putting down his fork and picking up his own wine glass. “No, I meant his one-month birthday.”
Richard raised his brows. “Do people actually celebrate such a thing? I certainly pray you did not expect me to provide a present. This could become costly after a time.”
“No gifts or parties. I just wanted to be there is all.” He sighed, sitting back in the chair. “I miss my family, Richard.” He took a sip, glancing to his cousin’s humorous face. “Go ahead, laugh. Make a joke. I need to be cheered.”
Richard shrugged. “I was just thinking that there was a time when all you needed in life was my sparkling personality and delightful company. How things change!”
Darcy laughed in earnest. “Never have I thought you were all I needed, my friend, but you do in a pinch.”
Richard lifted his glass in salute. “We shall be back at Pemberley in a day or two. You seem to have things well in hand, and there really are no reasons to stay around for the reconstruction, are there?”
“I do not want to desert my partners, but I suppose I can complete the rest from home. It is primarily paperwork from here on. Mr. Keith and I will work on it, and I will likely send him to London next month. I refuse to leave again, barring another catastrophe. It is too difficult.”
Richard was smiling at his once again morose cousin now fiddling with his wedding ring, a gleam of something indiscernible in his eyes. “I know I have said it before, but it still shocks me how profoundly matrimony has affected you.”
“And I have said it before, wait until it is your turn. It is marvelous, beautiful, the very best feeling in the world. Love and now fatherhood. Ach! I need to go home! Tomorrow afternoon, Richard. We will be home by dinner. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Do you remember Lord Fotherby?”
Darcy blinked in surprise. “Naturally. One of our greatest members of Parliament. How could I not? Terrible loss to our country when he passed. Why do you ask?”
Richard looked embarrassed, ruddy face flushing further. “Well, he has been a friend to our family for decades, as you know, he and our grandfather contemporaries. Considering his age, I guess none of us were too surprised at his death, but then again there are some people who seem immortal. He was so spry.”
“He assuredly was spry. We saw him in London and I never would have imagined him dying a few months later. He was dancing with his wife at Lord Ivers’s ball more often than Elizabeth and me. Yes, a shock and loss to be sure.” He noted Richard’s grimace, chuckling and leaning forward. “So are you going to tell me the thought behind this line of questioning?”
“It is entirely your fault you know. Walking about with that ridiculous grin all the time, peace and tranquility oozing from every pore, and pardon my crudeness, but the obvious sexual satisfaction radiating continually is enough to make the most confirmed bachelor vacillate!”
Darcy grinned, flushing slightly and ducking his head in embarrassment, but not in the least offended. “Whom are we talking about? The lucky lady to turn my wayward cousin’s heart and bring me such utter joy as I now can tease him mercilessly in return? Pray tell!”
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