“Unbelievable,” Lucas muttered again as he perused the stack.

Darcy read one sheet after another. “The missing piece. I knew there was more to this. Now it all makes sense.”

Fitz walked in the door. “The girl’s finally gettin’ decent. What are you so happy about, Will?”

Darcy grinned. “I finally know what Whitehead’s been up to,” and he explained what he and Lucas had found—money, papers, telegrams, letters, bank books, and most importantly, the deeds from the foreclosed homesteads. Fitz had to sit down, shaking his head.

“Where did Whitehead get the money to pull this off?”

Lucas passed him a sheet. “Can’t say for sure, but there’s this train schedule for a Federal payroll back in ’64.”

Fitz took the paper. “You think Whitehead robbed a train?”

Darcy shrugged. “Where else could he get over twenty thousand dollars? It doesn’t matter, anyway. Everything’s tied up in these deeds.” He waved at the table.

Lucas thought. “When Mrs. Burroughs finds out about this, it could ruin Rosings Bank. Collins has been a slick bastard.”

“It would serve her right,” Darcy said darkly. “She’s been in on this for months, thinking she’d sell to the railroad. She just didn’t know that Whitehead and Collins have been double dealing.” He tossed the papers on the desk. “This is partly my fault. If I had been minding business and watching what was going on in Rosings, none of this would’ve happened. Those poor settlers, the Washingtons… none of it. Damn!”

Fitz changed the subject. “Was Whitehead stupid enough to leave his safe open?”

Darcy smiled again. “Miss Lily’s smarter than you think. She watched Whitehead and learned the combination. She thought it might come in handy.”

“Well, it surely did. So, now what?”

Darcy looked at Lucas. “Whitehead and Denny are due back from Fort Worth tomorrow?”

“That or the next day’s what I heard.”

Fitz whistled. “When Whitehead sees all this, all hell’s gonna break loose.”

“That’s what I’m thinking.” Darcy spoke quietly to the other two. “First thing he’s going to do is go after Miss Lily. She knows too much. Then, he’s coming after me. So, this is what we do. I’ll take Miss Lily to the Bennet place and convince the women to hole up at Pemberley until this is over. Meanwhile, I’ll set a little ambush for Whitehead and Denny at the farm. They won’t be expecting anything like that from Bennet.”

Fitz grinned. “I think I’m gonna like that.”

Darcy shook his head. “No, you won’t, Fitz. Whitehead might do the unexpected, so I want you in charge of Pemberley’s defenses, just in case. You send a wagon with supplies and a few extra men to the Bennet place. We’ll use that to transport the women back to Pemberley. Send José. We’ll arrange the ambush.”

“Can’t say that I like that idea, boss.”

“I understand, but I’ll rest easy knowing that Gaby and the Bennet women are under your protection.”

Lucas gestured at the papers. “I’ll take all this evidence over to the jail for safekeeping, telegraph for them soldier boys at Fort Richardson, and hole up ’til this blows over.”

Fitz chuckled. “Never thought I’d be pleased to see the Yankee Cavalry.”

Darcy looked the sheriff in the eye. “Will you be able to hold out, Lucas?”

“Nobody knows I’ve got this stuff, and Whitehead don’t think much of me, so it won’t even cross his mind. Besides, the jail’s the strongest building in town. Me and my deputies will be okay.”

Fitz grew troubled. “You can hole up at Pemberley.”

Lucas waved him off. “No. I ain’t abandoning my town. I know I’ve made a lot o’ mistakes, but I ain’t no coward, dammit.” He glanced at Fitz. “No matter what some folks say.”

Darcy and Fitz shared a look. “If you’re set about it, Lucas…”

“I am.”

Darcy slammed his hand down. “Then, that’s the plan. Let’s get moving. Fitz, you and the others help the sheriff. Haul all this paperwork over to the jail while I collect Miss Lily.”

Darcy quietly made his way into the bedroom. He could see that Lily had changed her clothes but was still dressed in something more suited for a dancehall than a homecoming, sitting stone-faced on the bed, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

“Pardon me, Miss Lily.” Darcy removed his hat. “I hope you’re ready to go home.”

The girl looked away. “I thank you kindly for rescuing me, Mr. Darcy, but I can’t be going home. I’m… I’m—” She broke off.

Gingerly, he sat in a chair near the bed, taking care not to come too close. Keeping his voice in a gentle tone, he said, “Now, Miss Lily, let’s have none of that. Your momma and poppa are worried sick over you.”

“I can’t go back!” she cried, leaping to her feet, her face red and wild. “Don’t you see? I’m ruined! I’m dirty and unfit for decent people!” When Darcy tried to persuade her away from such thoughts, she rounded on him. “Should I tell you what happened to me? Do you want to know? I came here—by my own desire. I tricked my family and came here to offer all I had to George!”

Her story spilled out, as if a dam broke. “I… I loved him, and I thought that if he knew it, he’d love me, too. He was so surprised! I thought, at first, he was going to send me away. But I made him think better of it. I begged him to make me a woman. And he did. It was glorious!” She threw her head back, her expression soft and glowing.

“I was so happy. I had done what none of my sisters, save Jane, had done, and with such a man! So handsome! So dashing—or so I thought.” She changed again, her face becoming dark and foreboding. Her hands clutched her skirt so tightly that Darcy thought she might tear the fabric.

“A week after I came here, just as I began to think that George and I should marry and surprise my family, my bedroom door opened. But it wasn’t George. It was Denny.” She panted loudly. “He had this cruel gleam in his eye. I asked him his business, and he laughed! ‘You’re my business, girl. You’re mine now!’

“‘You’d better not let George hear you say that,’ I told him, ‘or he’ll shoot you dead!’ He just laughed again and grabbed my arm. ‘You silly slut! I said you’re mine. He gave you to me. Your precious George gave you to me!’”

Lily closed her eyes, pain etched on every corner of her face. “And then he took me. Threw me on the bed, ripped off my chemise, and took me! I fought and I fought and I yelled and I screamed, but no one came; nobody helped. George didn’t come; Sally didn’t come—nobody! In the end, Denny had his way with me.” She walked over to the window, hands clutched together, leaving Darcy to struggle to restrain his anger and horror in the silence. When she resumed talking, her back to her rescuer, it was with a voice that had lost all emotion.

“When he had spent his filth in me, he stood up and did up his pants. ‘Not bad, lovey,’ he told me, ‘but you best be better next time, or you’ll be sorry. Remember this, my girl—you’ve no home left, except here. If I ever tire of you, you’ll be working for Sally, livin’ off your back, pleasurin’ cowhands and salesmen and such for four bits a toss. You’re dead to your family.’”

Darcy thought he was going to be sick.

“The next morning, I came down for breakfast, and there was George. He wouldn’t even look at me! I cried, ‘Why, George? Why did you throw me over? Why did you give me to Denny? I love you.’ Do you know what he said? He said, ‘You were a ripe toss, girl, but you’re in more proper hands, now. When I marry, it will be a lady with land like Miss Darcy or Miss Burroughs. Not some fluff from the farm.’”

Darcy knew if Whitehead had been in the room at that moment, he would have strangled the bastard with his bare hands.

“So I stayed and made the best of it. I knew when Denny would visit me—Sally always seemed to know—and so I made sure I had plenty of whiskey close by. It… it helped. Most of the time, I just wanted to die.

“When he would finish with me, Denny would brag about what he’d done. He killed that Washington family, you know. He said, ‘Yeah, me and my boys killed them like the dogs they were, an’ they won’t be the last ones. There’s plenty o’ folks that need killin’ around here.’”

Her story done, she turned back to him, a single tear running down her face, her hands turning white as they clutched together. “Now do you understand, Mr. Darcy?”

Darcy submerged his rage, walked over to Lily, sat her on the bed, slowly pulled her hands apart, and held them in his. She tried to resist, but he was persistent. He knelt before her, his head and hers at the same level.