Chapter 42 Return to London 4 Woolen Rabbit Pocket

Bentley soon realized that this matter was much more serious than a simple financial dispute, and if he didn't deal with it quickly, he might face unbearable losses.

But since his father's death, many of the older generation's connections have become less strong, leaving few willing to campaign for him. London's high-ranking officials aren't easily won over with mere cash, which has prevented him from pinpointing the root of the problem.

Fortunately, Mr. Darcy was also in London at this time. Darcy was more astute in business, and after the training on the Birmingham Canal project in the past two months, he had more or less accumulated some information channels.

Darcy believes that the key to the matter lies with Thompson, the original owner who sold the house to Bentley. What did he do with the money that led Mr. Bentley to be suspected of "collusive misappropriation"? And does the "outflow" mean that Thompson's investment is related to cross-border trade?

The competent authority responsible for investigating this matter is the Land Taxation Committee under the Ministry of Finance. It is said that due to the complexity of the case, some other unnamed departments are involved, but there is no way to know this.

Today, Bingley and Darcy were planning to visit the second-in-command of the Tax Commission. He was a wealthy, aristocratic man who owned a prestigious mansion on Bond Street in the heart of Mayfair. Normally, he welcomed any respectable visitor. However, during Christmas week, the number of people coming to give gifts and socialize was so high that Mr. Bingley was turned away.

The black iron door slammed shut before his eyes. The air in London after the snow was biting. The white mist he exhaled quickly dissipated, but it could not dispel the depression in his heart.

Bingley turned around tiredly, intending to apologize to Darcy who was standing with him in punishment, but before he could open his mouth, he caught a glimpse of a blue figure beside a carriage not far away.

Bentley's heart sank. He had never expected to see Miss Jane Bennett here. He'd been so overwhelmed by the burden of land matters lately that he tried not to think about his leisurely and happy days at Longbourn. Only occasionally, in the dead of night, could he still uncontrollably speculate. Even the most gentle and tolerant girl would be hard pressed to avoid anger and resentment at a man who left without saying goodbye and broke his promise.

Bentley stood in the still-melted snow, hesitant to go forward. Then he saw the girl across from him suddenly smile, a smile that lifted the gloom after a snowfall. She lifted her skirt and strode toward him.

"Aunt, do you think Jane's dress today is actually quite nice? The servant who was walking the dog just now had really no taste." Mary took a piece of dessert from the box and commented with relish while leaning against the car window.

"I totally agree. If I were to wear that extravagant dress that's made out of money, I wouldn't be running like the fresh, elegant, youthful, and beautiful heroine of a love story."

At this moment, her vision was suddenly blocked. Hazel looked and saw that it was Mr. Darcy walking towards her.

Darcy took off his hat and saluted: "Mrs. Lawrence and Miss Mary, good day." He looked at Heather: "I thought you would stay in Longbourn for Christmas. I didn't expect to meet you in London. I should have visited you earlier."

Heather: "Don't worry, I just got here too. I'll let you know the new address after I've settled down."

Darcy: "Okay, I was planning to write to tell you that, barring any unforeseen circumstances, Mr. Crawford has agreed to allow me to be included in the priority subscription list for Birmingham Canal shares. The first internal reconnaissance meeting is expected to be held in the third week after Christmas. I will notify you once the specific time is confirmed."

"That's great! This is really good news. Your hard work hasn't been in vain." Hazel hadn't expected Mr. Darcy to be even more capable than she'd imagined. "By the way, how's Mr. Bingley doing? I heard a brief mention of him from Caroline before, but she hasn't written since. I heard it's about the land, right?"

Darcy nodded and briefly explained the information he had so far. "It's a shame the official wouldn't let us in today. We've tried several approaches so far, but we haven't been able to make any further progress."

"Have you tried asking Mr. Lancaster?" Heather found that when faced with such a difficult problem, her first reaction was always that Lancaster might have a solution.

Darcy shook his head. "I've thought about it before, but I haven't seen Mr. Lancaster lately. He always seems very busy. I heard from Mr. Lancaster's assistant that he's been preparing for a very important event on Christmas Eve. I guess Mr. Lancaster may have received an invitation from Carlton Palace to attend that grand banquet."

"A party?" Heather hadn't expected Lancaster to attend. His aloof demeanor often made her think he didn't need to attend any social events. "And if I remember correctly, Carlton Palace belongs to the Prince Regent, right? How is Lancaster related to the Prince Regent?" Heather asked in a low voice.

Darcy was surprised by her caution. "You've just arrived in London, so you probably don't know this, but I think everyone in London knows about this. Perhaps even the beggars in the square have heard that the Prince Regent is going to hold a banquet and masquerade on Christmas Eve. I heard that the renovated Carlton Palace can accommodate more than a thousand people at a time, so the Prince Regent sent invitations to almost every prestigious person in London, from cabinet members to artists, bankers, businessmen, and socialites. I also received one. However, the Prince Regent's reputation has been poor recently, and many people have declined the invitation, so he extended a second invitation to a larger group. I think Mr. Lancaster's family may have some status, so he received the invitation."

Heather understood that Lancaster was not from an ordinary family with no status. "What about you, Mr. Darcy? Will you go?"

Darcy denied it: "My sister is also in London. She is not suitable to go to such a place. I will stay at home with her on Christmas Eve."

Heather expressed her understanding, saying that Darcy was really a good brother who was cold on the outside but warm on the inside. He would actually turn down such an important opportunity to make connections for Georgiana.

They chatted intermittently for a long time until they could no longer come up with any topic. Jane returned to the carriage accompanied by Mr. Bingley.

She must have cried, and Mr. Bingley also seemed to have gone through quite a bit of emotional ups and downs. However, neither Heather nor Darcy asked anything. They just said goodbye to each other briefly, and Heather asked the coachman to start their journey back.

Christmas Eve arrived as promised.

The Gardner family's Christmas is very consistent with the style of the Gardners. Compared to grand, lively and luxurious occasions, they prefer to spend a simple, warm and practical holiday together as a family.

Since Christmas service was scheduled for the next day, Christmas Eve was no different from any other day. Mr. Gardner went out to deliver the prepared banquet wine to his clients, while the others stayed at home to play some simple games with the children.

Heather wasn't good at either word puzzles or poker, and her gaming skills were even outplayed by her nine-year-old nephew. However, the kids loved her the most and clamored to be on her team, which gave her a fantastic gaming experience. She happily gave each of her teammates a big hug.

The Gardners had few relatives in London, and their business partners and neighbors had already visited them, so almost no one came to visit on Christmas Eve. Mr. Bingley did come to Gracechurch Street in the afternoon, but he only stayed for less than half an hour, spoke to Jian Dan for a few words, left a gift, and left in a hurry.

This satisfied Mrs. Gardiner's curiosity, which had been lingering for weeks. She said privately to Hazel, "Mr. Bingley, though a very handsome man, looks a little childish."

Hazel told her that this was Mr. Bingley, who had experienced many hardships and had grown up a lot. If she had come to Longbourn a month earlier, she would have seen a Mr. Bingley who looked as if he had just reached adulthood. Mrs. Gardner was therefore skeptical about Mr. Bingley's ability. She did not like men who were not stable, and even began to wonder whether Jane and Mr. Bingley were suitable for each other.

Mr. Gardner arrived home in time for Christmas Eve dinner and was warmly welcomed by his entire family.

"This business is very successful, and the client is very satisfied." Mr. Gardner walked in with a child in each hand. "I have prepared gifts for all of you. Now we can start dinner!"

The children rarely forgot the etiquette they were taught, and rushed towards the Christmas dinner that had been prepared long ago, cheering happily.

The first Christmas Eve that Heather spent in London was ordinary and simple. There seemed to be no particular point worth remembering. Like the ending of every story of surviving a disaster, the last stroke was either a picture of reaching the peak of life or no unexpected doubts, but the most reassuring clichéd happy ending, as if every day after the end of the story could be spent happily like this.

As soon as it was eleven o'clock, the children were urged to climb into bed and get ready for sleep. Every adult would give them a goodnight kiss and promise that they would see gifts next to their pillows when they opened their eyes tomorrow.

Jane and Mary also went to bed. This was their first Christmas in London. Although they inevitably missed their families far away, the novelty and expectation left an unfinished note in their young hearts, allowing them to maintain unlimited imagination for tomorrow.

Heather said goodnight to her brother and sister-in-law before returning to her bedroom. This was also where she'd stayed her first night in London. In such a special moment of reunion, she rarely thought of her old dorm and the single room she'd rented after graduation. It wasn't a place she particularly missed, nor was there anyone she needed to see again, but she'd occasionally miss it in the dead of night, or perhaps even a part of herself that had no connection to the present.

She has family, friends, money, freedom and expectations, but she cannot share her entire life with anyone without reservation. This unnecessary desire to talk will be put on the back burner most of the time, but it will occasionally come out, especially when she feels lonely.

That's right, in such a happy and perfect moment for the whole family, she rarely felt lonely.

Heather leaned against the head of the bed, bent her knees and buried her head in her arms, and couldn't help but want someone to come and talk to her, even if it was just to distract her.

Boom.

Knock knock.

Heather suddenly raised her head and looked at the window. She pulled open the curtains with trembling hands. Outside the window was not the endless darkness, but instead a woolen rabbit pocket supported by a thin branch.