Bonds of Love (Bonds of Life Book 2) by Jann Rowland

Author:Jann Rowland [Rowland, Jann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: One Good Sonnet Publishing
Published: 2021-11-23T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter XIX

Lord Matlock was a busy man in the days after word arrived of Colonel Forster’s ultimate fate. While they had been notified of the man’s execution, there was no word of his underlings, or the men they were all certain had assisted. When requests for further information yielded nothing, he determined to go to London himself and discover what had been done with those men.

“It is best that I simply go to town,” said Matlock when making his communication to the others. “The information we want will be more readily obtained in person than by letter. If all goes well, I should return within two days.”

Bennet, Matlock noted, regarded him with his typical sardonic amusement. The other men—Wickham, Hurst, and Collins—nodded their agreement. It was amusing to note the interactions of the latter two with the longstanding friends, for rarely did they comment on a course of action when Matlock or one of his friends proposed it. Or rather, Collins did not, for Hurst was as confident—and indolent—a man as Matlock had ever met, his ability to fit in with them notwithstanding. Collins, however, was not confident of his position among their number, and his behavior showed it.

London was, as Matlock had expected, a poor substitute for the company of his friends, though the information he came to retrieve was readily surrendered. On the appointed day, he returned to Longbourn, eager to quit the city, his coach making good time to Hertfordshire. When he returned, joining his friend in his study with a greeting for them all, he accepted a glass of port gratefully and nodded to his host.

“Traveling is a thirsty business, my friend. I am grateful there is a glass of your excellent port waiting for me at the end of it.”

“Well, it is not comparable to Darcy’s brandy,” said Bennet with a grin, “but I like it tolerably well.”

“Liar,” was Matlock’s fond reply. “I know you, Bennet. Your stores of port are of the finest vintages, and I am reliably informed that you purchase the same brandy as Darcy!”

“Perhaps I do,” replied Bennet, shaking his head with false modesty. “But I only bring it out for special occasions.”

“And the return of an old friend is not a special occasion?” Matlock lifted an eyebrow at his good friend, prompting Bennet and Wickham to guffaw, Hurst and Collins looking on.

“My old friend,” rejoined Bennet, “is a pirate who raids my stores of liquor with nary a thought to my needs.” The man paused and considered the matter, and then said: “Then again, I suppose I should be grateful it is you and not your reprobate of a son; I have rarely seen a man as capable of holding his liquor as Anthony.”

“He only gives the appearance of it,” said Matlock, enjoying their banter very much. “In actuality, Anthony imbibes much less than he seems to. He informs me the trick is to raise his cup to his lips enough to become ape-drunk, but most of the time to drink nothing.

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