an’ he won’t until she’s found, alive or… well, until she’s found.”
Charlotte sighed. “Mr. Darcy must really love Beth.”
“I reckon so. Why he don’t just ask th’ girl to marry him is just plumb loco.”
Charlotte looked at her sweetheart through her eyelashes. “So, you think a man in love ought to propose to his intended?”
Fitz’s sardonic grin faded. “I do if’n he thinks th’ girl in question will give him the answer he wants.” His eyes bore into hers. “For example, would she marry without her father’s approval?”
Charlotte felt her tears rising. “Fitz, I… I…”
“Shush, sweetie,” he said as he gathered her into his arms. “We’ll just give him a little more time to accept us.” He grinned without humor. “A
“But what if he never comes around?”
“Then we got us a decision to make.”
Charlotte wasn’t fooled by Fitz’s use of the word “us”—it was
“I’d best be getting back home,” she said to cover up her distress. Fitz refused to release her hand.
“Can you come next week? As long as it’s safe, I mean.”
Charlotte knew she shouldn’t. “Of course.”
The man behind the desk rose from his chair upon Darcy’s entrance into the office. “Good evening, Mr. Darcy,” said the middle-aged, well-dressed man as he walked around the desk, hand held out in greeting. “I hope I can answer any questions you may still have after the presentation this afternoon.”
“I’m sure you can, Mr. Knightly,” answered Darcy as they shook hands. Knightly suggested they take a seat around a small table in one corner of the office. As Darcy made himself comfortable, he surveyed both the office and the man who occupied it. The room was ten feet square, not overly large for such a place in Fort Worth. The furnishings were in good condition but showed a bit of age. A bookcase with glass doors was against one wall, and next to it was a large safe. The room was neat, but not overly so. The small pile of papers on the desk and the stack of maps in one corner were proof it was the working office of an organized mind and not a set on a stage.
Knightly, too, he judged. He had heard of the Knightly brothers, John and Gabriel. They had worked as assistants on several railroad projects, but this was their first time setting up their own syndicate. The man who sat opposite him was open and calm. John Knightly had answered all questions at the presentation with confidence and honesty. What he knew, he shared; and if he or his brother didn’t know the answer, he said so. Darcy felt he could trust them.
The project was interesting: a proposed new railroad between Fort Worth and Abilene, Texas. Darcy had been one of a number of potential investors invited to the meeting. The large amount requested was not daunting; he had made such investments before, and the brothers owned an excellent reputation. Normally, he would have just made a decision in the quiet of his hotel room after reading the prospectus, but this project had electrified him—and for more reasons than being just another in a line of promising investments.
“Now, sir, how can I be of service?” John Knightly smiled, his hands clasped on the tabletop.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice. Your presentation was intriguing, to say the least.” That was an understatement; Darcy was shocked silent when the plans were revealed. It was as if a great fog had lifted from his eyes only to reveal a horrible suspicion.
Knightly laughed lightly. “I imagine so, as we’ll be running the rail line right through your property. But we want more than to purchase the right-of-way. We need visionary investors to carry this new company forward. I hope you will join us.”
“Before I can make up my mind, I must ask to see the maps of the proposed railroad, particularly those of Long Branch County.”
“Of course. Excuse me.” Knightly walked over to the safe and worked the combination. He opened the door and extracted a stack of documents, which he carried back to the table.
“We’ll spread the right map out here,” he said. “As you can see, we take no chances. Security is very important.”
Darcy understood that. Should speculators learn of the proposed route, they could buy up the land in advance and charge excessive amounts for the rights. The correct map was found and Knightly opened it up. Just then, there was a knock on the door.
“Sir?” A thin, short man stuck his head in. His nose was more prominent than his chin and he spoke with a nervous stammer. “Would you want me to make some coffee for you and the gentleman?” His large eyes seemed to be fixed on the table instead of his employer.
Knightly looked silently at Darcy, who shook his head. “No, that’s all right, Elton,” said Knightly, “you can go home now. Gabriel and I will be working late. We’ll lock up. See you in the morning.” After the clerk shut the door, the gentlemen’s attention returned to the map.
“See?” Knightly ran a finger along a line drawn on it. “My advance team chose this route about a year ago. We looked at it several more times. As you can see, it runs along the north bank of the Long Branch River through the town before crossing here and onto your land.”
Darcy’s stomach turned as his blood ran cold. “I have to ask you—are you certain no one has seen this?”
Knightly was affronted but tried to hide it. “Absolutely. We have shown these, the only maps of the project, to no one before tonight. These are the only copies, and they are kept in that safe. Only my brother and I have the combination.”
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Knightly, but I had to ask.”
“Is something wrong?”
Darcy struggled with how to answer. He had only suspicions, not proof. “I don’t know. Is it possible that your advance team was questioned?”
“No. You see, Mr. Darcy, my surveyors are instructed most carefully on what to say if approached. I have worked with them on other projects, and they have never violated our trust. To what do these questions pertain?”
Darcy sighed. “There’ve been some… incidents over this area.” He pointed to the new settlements.
“Hmm. That’s problematic. If we run into any difficulties, we can always go a bit farther north. I’d hate to put an unnecessary curve in the line, but that’s better than extortion.”
“That won’t help. All the land north of the river is owned by the same landowner now.”
Knightly looked up. “Really? I understand your questions, then. Perhaps the team was observed and a lucky guess was made. It’s never happened before, but there’s always the first time. I suppose you know the owner.”
Darcy wanted to be sick. “Yes, I do.”
“Do you think there will be a problem securing the right-of-way?”
“I’m not sure.” Darcy ran other possible motivations for seeking control of the bottomland through his head and came up with only one reason.
Knightly sat back. “Well, if there gets to be a problem—if the price is driven up too high—we can always go to our alternative route. Actually, that’s better for you, as we’d be buying more rights from your Pemberley.”
“Perhaps. But no stop on that route, correct?”
“True. We’ll only put in a station if we go through the Town of Rosings.”
Darcy’s stomach clenched again. “The station would be of greater overall value to me and everyone else. I have to ask you to try to use the original route.”
“That’s our opinion as well. If you decide to invest in this project, can we count on you to help calm any rough waters?”
Darcy swallowed thickly. “You have my assurances. I’m in. I’ll be happy to invest in your company.”
“Wonderful!” Knightly cried, taking the rancher by the hand. “We’ve just about raised all the capital we’ll need to get started.”
“I’ll be by tomorrow to finalize the papers and arrange for delivery of the funds.” The two chatted for a few more minutes before Darcy took his leave. As he walked out of the office building, José Estrada, who had
