In Want of a Suspect (A Lizzie & Darcy Mystery #1)

Fourteen

In Which Darcy Makes a Long-Overdue Apology

FOR THE THIRD TIME in a week, Darcy found himself approaching Josette’s front door. He held Guy’s leash and looked down at the dog while he rang the bell. “You have to be on your very best behavior here, understand?”

The dog cocked his head to the side, and Darcy got the eerie feeling the dog was casting judgment on him. Margaret had mounted a strong argument for keeping him at her sisters’ shop while Lizzie and Darcy went on their errands; but Elinor had put her foot down, which left the dog with Darcy as Lizzie could hardly bring him with her into the various jewelers she intended to visit.

“There will be a treat in it for you if you’re good, understand? What do you eat, anyway? I haven’t the faintest clue, so I hope Lizzie fed you a good breakfast—”

The door opened, revealing the disapproving face of Mr. Dupont. Before Darcy could draw breath, he said, “Miss Beaufort is not accepting callers—”

“She’ll see me,” Darcy cut him off. “It’s about her cousin’s death.”

Mr. Dupont’s expression was doubtful; but after a long pause, Darcy and Guy were admitted into the foyer. The dog’s nails clicked on the shiny marble and Mr. Dupont looked down at the dog with a pained expression. “Perhaps you’d like to entrust your dog to a footman while you call upon Miss Beaufort?”

“Yes, thank you,” Darcy said, passing the leash to a hovering footman. He gave Guy a look that he hoped said, Be good .

Moments later, he was ushered down the hall, past the drawing room, and to a morning room. Josette, wearing a black mourning gown, sat in a chair by the window, which overlooked a small garden.

“Josette,” Darcy said as he entered. “How are you?”

Josette managed an indifferent shrug. “What are you doing here?”

Darcy was not offended by her bluntness. “I have some news.”

“You know who killed Leticia?”

She looked up at him with such raw hope that Darcy felt horrible as he shook his head. “Not exactly. The man who said he saw someone who looked like Leticia... Jack Mullins? He’s decided to drop the case. I’m sorry.”

“Is that supposed to make me happy?”

“Well, no. But I thought it might bring you some relief.”

“Relief. Ha.” She looked back out the window. “I have no relief. Even if you presented her murderer before me, I still wouldn’t have any relief. My cousin is dead.”

“I know,” Darcy said quietly. And even though he hadn’t been invited, he sat across from Josette.

“What are you doing?” Josette demanded.

“Sitting.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re sad, and I thought you could use a friend.”

“We are friends?”

He deserved that. “Josette... I’m sorry.”

“You already said that.”

“No, I know... I mean, I’m sorry for before.” That got her attention. She turned to look at him, pinning him in place with her wide, red-rimmed eyes. Darcy couldn’t stop now. “I’m sorry about the way I asked you to marry me. I knew I had missed the mark afterward, but it wasn’t until very recently that I’ve taken into consideration how my proposal must have come across.”

Josette’s mouth had fallen open in shock. “That is not what I expected you to say.”

“I didn’t mean to cause you any more distress.” He looked away, wishing he could leave. As a rule, he tended to barrel through awkward conversations with steely composure. Sitting with his own discomfort was not at all pleasant.

“No, Darcy... thank you.” She touched his arm. “For whatever it’s worth, I was very cross at the time, but I’ve long since let go of any anger. You are honorable, Darcy. We were just ill-suited.”

A weight he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying seemed to lift slowly, and then all at once. He really hoped that she was not culpable for either the fire or the murder. “Thank you, Josette. I’m happy you had enough sense for the both of us back then. And... I’m happy you have found Mr. Hughes.”

She smiled a little then. “I am very lucky.”

Darcy hated himself for what he was about to say next. “I was especially happy he was here... that day. I did not want you to be alone.”

She looked back out the window again. “He’s barely left me alone since then. He’s only gone at the moment to obtain a special license.”

Darcy wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. “A special license! But you don’t mean...”

“We’ll marry first thing tomorrow morning,” she said shortly. “I don’t want to wait. What use do I have for parties and celebrations now? At least after tomorrow, I won’t have to be alone.”

Some instinct in him wanted to beg her not to marry Richard Hughes—but what right did he have to ask her to delay her wedding? It wasn’t as though he could say, Don’t marry him until I can clear him as a suspect.

“You never told me about Leticia,” he blurted out. “I didn’t even know you had a cousin.”

“There is a great deal you don’t know about me, Darcy, which is why I am marrying Mr. Hughes tomorrow, not you.” Her barbed look was not as sharp as when he’d first walked into the room, but Darcy took it as a warning.

“It’s just that... you must promise me you’ll be careful, Josette.”

“I’ve been careful my whole life,” Josette said with a scoff. “Why are you so concerned now?”

“Because whoever killed Leticia might come after you next.”

There, he’d said it. But now that the fear was voiced, Josette didn’t appear especially worried or shocked. “As far as I am concerned, that snake Jack Mullins is likely the cause of her death. I don’t have proof, but he wanted to accuse someone—a French someone. And you led him straight to us.”

Her words hit in harder than a blow. “If that’s true, then I am eternally sorry. But forgive me, I have to ask... is there any reason that Mr. Mullins may have to despise Mr. Hughes?”

“What? Mr. Hughes is above reproach, sir!”

Darcy didn’t want to press her, but he had to. “Perhaps not necessarily on purpose. But if they’d had a disagreement, for example—”

“Absolutely not! Mr. Hughes hardly knows the man!”

“Something to do with his mines?”

Josette blinked rapidly. “His mines? I know nothing about his mines. Darcy, what are you implying?”

“Nothing! But if there is some connection, some stone yet unturned—”

But Darcy could tell that he’d lost control of the situation. Josette stood. “I want you to leave.”

He also stood but didn’t make any move for the door. “I don’t mean to sound uncaring, but it is my job to inquire. I care about you—”

“You care? What fine words! Where were you when my grandmother was dying? Why did you not care then?”

“Josette, I—”

The door to the sitting room opened and Dupont appeared, likely drawn by the sound of raised voice. “Miss Beaufort?”

“Mr. Darcy is leaving!”

“Josette—”

“Good day!”

The butler held up an arm to indicate that Darcy should follow him. “This way, sir,” he said, a core of steel in his voice.

“I’m sorry,” he said to Josette again, but she had turned her back on him.

In the foyer, Dupont handed him his hat and a footman came forward with Guy. Darcy took the dog’s leash and made one last entreaty to the butler. “I do care for her, despite what she might say. And I fear she’s in terrible danger still. Please, keep a close eye on her.”

The butler’s expression was withering. “I always keep a close eye on Miss Beaufort.”

Darcy felt somehow chastened, but he forced himself to hold Dupont’s gaze. His unyielding gray eyes held... not scorn, but condescension, to be sure. As if Darcy were just a little boy and he was the grown-up. His face softened a bit, and he nodded. “I know you do.”

Outside of Cavendish House, Guy wagged his tail and looked up expectantly at Darcy. “I don’t know what’s next,” he said. “She didn’t really tell me anything, and I doubt she will now.”

Guy sat.

“I’ve made a mess of things,” Darcy told him.

The little dog tilted his head, as if he understood what Darcy was saying. But even Guy couldn’t distract Darcy from Josette’s parting words. Where were you when my grandmother was dying? Why did you not care then?

He thought of the empty file at Pemberley.

Why would Josette expect him to have shown up at her grandmother’s deathbed?

Unless...

He looked down at Guy. “How discreet can you be?”