The Golden Daffodil: Short Stories: A Pride and Prejudice Variation by Laraba Kendig

Author:Laraba Kendig [Kendig, Laraba]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-06-05T23:00:00+00:00

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One hour later

“Mr. Bingley requests that you meet him in his office when you are finished with your meal, sir,” the butler informed Warosa as the barrister bit into his last slice of toast.

“I will be there within five minutes. Can you arrange for my carriage to be prepared to take me back to Town?”

“Of course, sir.”

Warosa finished his meal rapidly, wiped down his hands and face, rose to his feet, adjusted his cravat and coat, and strode out of the breakfast room, down the corridor, and into Bingley’s office.

He smiled slightly, though he made certain that his eyes were not squinty. He wanted to look approachable and friendly but also professional.

He stepped into the study and looked around at those gathered there. As he met the eyes of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, and Mr. and Mrs. Bingley, and Lady Catherine de Bourgh, his smile slipped away, his eyes rounding in confusion and dismay.

The former Bennet daughters were seated side by side on a small couch by the unlit fire, and while their beauty was unsullied, their expressions were truly forbidding. As for Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley, who were flanking the desk, those gentlemen looked positively grim. Between them, on a hard backed, wooden chair, sat Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and under her hand – surely not! It was quite impossible!

“Sit down, Mr. Warosa,” the lady ordered in a ringing tone. “Now.”

He gaped at her in astonishment before saying feebly, “Lady Catherine, this is a surprise. I did not realize you would be here.”

“Sit down,” Mr. Darcy ordered, striding forward to push him into a seat. The gentleman then retreated to stand in front of the door, blocking any escape attempt.

“What … what is this?” Warosa croaked, struggling to attain some measure of equanimity.

“I think it is quite obvious what this is,” Lady Catherine returned, her tone sharp as a whip. “These are the private ledgers from your office, describing your supposed investment strategy. Except there are no investments, are there, Mr. Warosa? You are not a brilliant strategist with a remarkable understanding of the Exchange. You merely take money from women, use it for your own expenses, and provide annual documents indicating that their holdings have increased ten percent per year. With those kinds of yields, most women naturally prefer to leave their money with you instead of withdrawing it. Those investors who do need their money are paid with the money given to you by new investors. It is a creative scheme, Mr. Warosa, but also entirely criminal.”

Warosa swallowed hard and then decided, with nothing else to lose, to go on the offensive.

“How did you get those ledgers?” he demanded.

“By infiltrating your office, and then breaking into your safe, of course,” the lady responded with an airy wave of her hand.

Warosa narrowed his eyes and snarled, “That is also criminal, Lady Catherine!”

“It is, of course, but given that I am a noblewoman, with all the privilege of peerage, I will not be arrested. Come now, Mr. Warosa;

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