The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy by Regina Jeffers

matter-of-factly. He took note of Gry’s slight grimace. It was an odd reaction to something so simple—Darcy’s suspicions increased. That niggling warning he had experienced since arriving in Dorset returned with a vengeance.
    â€œAs you are the legal heir to Mr. Samuel’s property,” Gry said cautiously, “I assume you wish to announce the eviction of my family from your relative’s land.”
    It was Darcy’s turn to scowl. “That was not my intent,” he said honestly. “Why would I wish to rid myself of the man who might possess the answer to my cousin’s mysterious death and disappearance?”
    As if to divine the truth, Gry leaned forward. “But the squire mentioned that you objected to our presence on your cousin’s land,” he said suspiciously.
    Darcy certainly did not appreciate Stowbridge’s speaking for him. “I would not wish to see your family abuse my cousin’s generosity. I would be greatly displeased if that were so, and I would utilize what power I possess to make your lives miserable.”
    Gry chuckled. “I see you are a man who speaks his mind.”
    Darcy thumbed the thread again. “In such matters as Mrs. Darcy and I have encountered in Dorset, it seems only prudent to act earnestly.” When Gry did not respond, Darcy continued. “I hold many questions regarding the conduct of your family in my cousin’s death.”
    Gry stiffened. “Then, like Stowbridge, you believe my brother held some responsibility in Mr. Samuel’s disappearance.”
    â€œIn reality,” Darcy confessed, “I am sadly lacking in details. Perhaps I could convince you to share with me what you know of the events. I assure you I want only the truth.”
    The Rom studied Darcy closely, and Darcy was careful to school his countenance to match his words. Finally, Gry said, “Except for God’s intervention in making me the first born, Besnik would have been our family’s leader. His name means faithful, and Besnik was everything that is loyal to what the Roma hold most dear. I fear I am a poor alternative.” Squaringhis shoulders, the man continued, “I did not sanction Besnik’s venture. My brother took it upon himself to meet two gadje in the cemetery on that fateful night.”
    Darcy’s gaze narrowed, and his fingers tightened upon the chair’s arms. “Your brother was to meet someone else in Wimborne’s cemetery? No one has mentioned this fact previously.”
    â€œBecause the squire said he would not believe the one witness that confirmed Besnik was not the only culprit in this matter. The magistrate refused to listen to one of my family, my cousin, Emilian. Evidently, our family had encountered Mr. Stowbridge when last my people stayed upon Mr. Samuel’s land. It appears Emilian took offense at the squire’s attentions to Emilian’s betrothed, Luludya. Mr. Stowbridge thought he could treat our women as he might one of his maids,” Gry said bitterly.
    â€œI was unaware of these events,” Darcy said apologetically. He found himself taken back by the gypsy leader’s tone of vehemence. The Rom had hidden his open disdain until this instant, and it was a very telling moment. It seemed to Darcy that he had spoken of his lack of information often since his arrival in Dorset, but what was worse was he feared it was not the last time he would utter the words; and that went against his desire for absolute control.
    â€œIt is not uncommon in our travels,” Gry confessed. “But with an episode of such importance, one would think Mr. Stowbridge might place his former prejudice aside.”
    Darcy’s mouth set in a tight line. “I agree. Could you honestly explain to me why Besnik would choose to meet strangers over my cousin’s gravesite?”
    Gry asked ironically, “Who said the gadje were strangers?”
    Darcy hid his irritation