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

Nineteen

In Which a Darkened Carriage Incites an Illuminating Conversation

THIS TIME, DARCY brOUGHT his carriage.

“I don’t want this to go to your head, because it’s ostentatious, generally inconvenient, and it deprives one of the joys of a good walk,” Lizzie said as they climbed in, “but I am glad you brought this rig.”

“How magnanimous of you to admit it,” Darcy said, settling into the seat across from her. “Are you all right, truly?”

“A bit sore,” she admitted. It was too dark for her to see him, the only light coming from the lantern from the driver’s perch. But she sensed his tension, so naturally she decided to tease him further. “But very pleased to see you.”

“I’m glad you appreciate the convenience of the carriage,” he said. “I went all the way home for it when I heard that you planned to come here. I thought it would be more convenient. Then, of course, I couldn’t find you at Longbourn and so I went to the Dashwoods’ shop, only to discover Farrows and Brandon, about to come out of their skin with worry.”

“Is that your way of telling me that you were scared for my safety?”

“No, I’ll simply admit it—I was deathly afraid for you.”

“Oh,” she said. He sounded angry.

“We all were terrified,” Darcy continued. “At first, we all wanted to go to your respective homes and stop you from sneaking out, but then Brandon pointed out that Marianne would never forgive him.”

“Probably true,” Lizzie said.

“And that got me thinking that if I went to your home and told your father what you were planning on doing, you’d be furious with me.”

He seemed to pause, waiting for a reaction. “True,” she acknowledged.

“And when I really thought about it, I realized it wasn’t just that I didn’t want you to be furious with me—although you are very scary when you’re mad—but I didn’t want to stand in your way.”

Now he sounded less mad, and more helpless.

“But?” Lizzie asked. “I’m sensing there is a but somewhere in here.”

He sighed heavily. “But... you didn’t wait for me. And I understand why, but... Lizzie, if you’re going to break the law, which I greatly disapprove of, by the way... well, at the very least I’d like to be your accomplice.”

Oh.

Lizzie wished now she could see his face, but since that wasn’t possible, she pushed herself to her feet, swaying a bit. “Move over,” she said, squeezing in next to him.

Darcy’s arms came around her and she melted into his touch, even as the carriage jostled all her bruises. Darcy’s lips brushed her temple, and she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and sink into his embrace.

“I didn’t wait,” she acknowledged. “But it’s not because I don’t trust you or didn’t want you with me.”

“The case is important,” Darcy murmured.

“Yes. The case. And... I didn’t go alone. I wouldn’t have gone alone. I had the Dashwoods.”

“I know. But there are so many dangers in the world, even for three very capable young ladies such as yourselves.”

Lizzie sighed. She was so used to arguing that she was more than able to handle herself, she was loath to admit when there were situations she might not be able to wiggle out of. And yet, the beating she’d taken tonight was proof that her modes of persuasion were not infallible. Sometimes, men chose violence. When she closed her eyes, she saw flashes of the dead women she’d encountered over the course of her work—Abigail, Leticia. She might have been one of them, if not for Marianne and Elinor Dashwood.

“I know,” she whispered.

They rode in silence, and Lizzie was grateful. She didn’t want to argue with Darcy—she just wanted to stay in his arms, feel the beat of her own heart, and give thanks that she was alive.

“I won’t ever stop you, you know.”

“Hmm?”

“I won’t stop you,” he said, his voice low but strong in her ear. “I want you to know that whatever you decide to do, wherever you decide to go, I won’t ever try to stop you.”

Her breath caught. “Oh? And if I decide to sail to the farthest edges of the world on a whim?”

“I wouldn’t stop you,” he repeated. “I might inquire as to your plans, to ensure you’re well taken care of. But I’d never stand in your way.”

Tears sprang to her eyes unexpectedly, and she blinked them back. She tried to keep her voice light. “But would you come with me?”

“Lizzie.” He exhaled her name like an oath. “I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth, if you’ll let me.”

Now the tears fell, but they were tears of relief. “I think I know this. But I’m still afraid, because you could stop me.”

“I’d never.”

“But you could. And I don’t even think that I believe you would. Even before you said it. But... Darcy, I need some time. To reckon with what this means.”

He kissed her forehead. “Of course. But... just to be clear, we aren’t speaking of you taking a long sea trip?”

She laughed. “No, I think it’s quite obvious that now we are speaking about the future.”

Even now, she couldn’t quite bring herself to say the word marriage . But she felt an immense relief as her fears were named and Darcy tightened his arms around her. “I’m sorry I’ve been rather trying lately,” she said. “It’s not that I don’t want you to call or come to dinner.”

“I know,” he said.

“You know? What do you know?” She turned to look at him. The light was still dim, but she thought she could see the outline of his mouth, smiling.

“I know what your mother wants,” Darcy said. “And I have been a bit nervous that your father is going to corner me and ask me to declare my intentions. And, Lizzie, to be clear—my intention is to continue helping you however you’d like, in whatever capacity you prefer. But it’s been rather nerve-racking feeling like I have to dodge them constantly.”

“That’s my fault,” Lizzie admitted. “I’ve been contriving reasons to keep you away because... well, you know what my mother is like! I don’t want her to badger you into a proposal if you’re not ready!”

“Have a little faith, love. I can withstand your mother.”

Lizzie’s heart fluttered at the term of endearment, even as she laughed. “Oh, thank goodness. Perhaps we ought to sit in darkened, enclosed spaces more often. It seems to be where we have our most honest conversations.”

“I would prefer we leave out the enclosed bit,” Darcy said, but she could feel the laughter in his chest. “Speaking of your mother badgering me into a proposal, how did Bingley fare last night?”

“Well, he didn’t propose, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m afraid our case spoiled the mood.”

“Oh no,” Darcy said, but he didn’t sound surprised. “How’s Jane taking it?”

“Disappointed but hiding it well. Mama is devastated and hiding it not at all.” Lizzie waited for Darcy to say something, but when he didn’t she turned to face him. “Darcy. Do you have knowledge of Bingley’s intentions?”

“Let’s just say that Bingley, while not immune to your mother’s pressure, has something a bit more romantic in mind than proposing while your mother’s ear is at the drawing room door.”

Lizzie playfully whacked his shoulder. “You should have said! Jane will be so relieved.”

“It won’t be long now,” Darcy assured her. “Make sure she acts surprised.”

“Oh, she’ll be thrilled,” Lizzie said, nestling herself back into Darcy’s arms. Their conversation had brought a brief respite, but talk of marriage had her thoughts returning to the case, to the marriage they intended to stop now. A hazy gray light was slowly seeping into the carriage. Dawn wasn’t far off.

“We have to get a confession,” Lizzie whispered. “We didn’t find a trace of graphite in the storehouse. All we have is circumstantial evidence and the testimony of a street child and a smuggler. If Hughes wiggles out of this one, he’ll flee.”

“We won’t let him escape,” Darcy said confidently. “In a few hours’ time, he’ll be arrested and you’ll see him charged.”

She hoped it was true. But there was one thing that was bothering her: The woman that Tomlinson had spoken of at the storehouse. He said that she had been watching. And he had made mention of kidnapping Lizzie.

But before she could voice her questions, the carriage began to slow and Darcy sat up. They hadn’t even stopped in front of Cavendish House before Darcy flung open the door and stepped down. He held up a hand for Lizzie, who followed stiffly, and then they were racing to the front door. Darcy pulled the bell, and then began knocking frantically.

“She’s not going to want to believe me, but let me try to convince her,” he said amid his barrage of knocking. “I have the letter from her grandmother, and maybe—”

The door opened suddenly, and Darcy nearly fell into Mr. Dupont, who stood perfectly poised, although wearing a disapproving expression.

“Josette—Miss Beaufort,” Darcy said. “I need to speak with her at once.”

“You cannot,” the butler began to say, but Darcy cut him off.

“I know that I upset her yesterday, but this is a serious matter!”

“Be that as it may, sir—”

Darcy fumbled for something within his jacket pocket and produced a rather rumpled letter. “I know about Leticia,” he said. “I found the letter!”

Lizzie watched the butler’s gaze flick from Darcy’s face to the letter clenched in his hand. He seemed to be at war with himself, but the sight of the letter was shifting the tides to their side.

“Please, Mr. Dupont,” Lizzie said. “We are fearful for Josette.”

“She’s perfectly safe,” Mr. Dupont said, but he didn’t sound as though he believed it.

“The day Leticia was killed, Darcy came to inform Josette,” Lizzie said. “Mr. Hughes was already here. When did he arrive?”

“Please,” Darcy said. “I know what I said two years ago hurt her, and I’ve been very sorry ever since. But I think she might be in danger.”

Mr. Dupont looked between the two of them with understanding. “Twenty minutes, maybe,” he said. “Not long.”

Darcy let out a soft “oof” and his shoulders slumped. “We must see Josette, now!”

“She’s not here,” Mr. Dupont said. “She’s left already for the church.”

“Where?” Darcy demanded.

“Saint George’s,” Dupont said, “but—”

They didn’t waste any time. Back in the carriage they went, with Darcy calling out the address to his driver. Now that it was light, the carriage could travel much faster than it had on the journey across town, and Lizzie and Darcy spent the trip in tense silence, gripping each other’s hands. As they pulled into Hanover Square, the sound of church bells filled the morning air.

“No,” Lizzie whispered, and Darcy looked ill. The carriage drew up before the church but they were jumping down before it had fully stopped. Without speaking, they ran hand in hand toward the church doors. The steps were deserted, as there were very few people out and about so early. Almost as if Mr. Hughes wanted no audience, no one to stop his marriage.

The great doors opened with a creak, and the interior of the church was dimly lit—so dim at first that Lizzie thought perhaps they’d gotten it wrong and no one was there. But her eyes adjusted as she Darcy ran toward the front of the church, coming upon the sight they were hoping and dreading at the same time.

Josette stood facing Mr. Hughes. A clergyman stood between them, holding the Book of Common Prayer. Josette lifted her hands to take Mr. Hughes’, and...

“Stop!”