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

Twenty-Two

In Which Darcy Details a Rather Embarrassing Proposal

THE CHURCH HAD EMPTIED completely—even the clergyman was nowhere to be seen. A sudden weariness overtook Lizzie, and she was in desperate need of a cup of tea and a very long nap. “I suppose we solved it,” she said as Darcy slowly steered her toward the church door.

“Indeed,” he agreed. “But we cannot tell anyone that we solved it. And there are no charges to be brought before a court.”

“Even worse, I doubt Jack Mullins will ever pay his bill from Newgate. You don’t suppose I can bill that Graves fellow for all our trouble?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Graves is a fake name, Lizzie.”

“Ah, well. My father did tell me there’s no money in criminal cases.”

For some reason, this set Lizzie off giggling, and once she’d started she couldn’t stop. It took Darcy longer, but a smile grew on his serious face, and then he was chuckling, too.

They were laughing when they exited the church into the bright morning. For the first time in weeks, the cloud cover had broken and glorious blue sky greeted them. And despite her exhaustion and aches and pains and the headache she would surely have at having to explain to her mother why she had sneaked out in the dark of night, Darcy was by her side, and she wasn’t immediately worried about what the future might hold.

As they stood on the church steps, laughter subsiding, something occurred to Lizzie. “Darcy,” she said, “do you suppose it was Hughes who threw that brick through my window?”

“Why?” he asked. “Do you want to sue him?”

She waved a hand at that thought. “No, although he’d deserve it. It just occurred to me I don’t know who did. Leticia was dead. Jack might have done it, but why? He’d already dismissed me from the case. It might have been Tomlinson, but he doesn’t seem the type to do his own dirty work. And so that leaves Hughes. He had the graphite, after all.”

Darcy had sobered at this point, and she realized that he wasn’t looking at her—he was looking beyond her. Lizzie turned and saw the figure of a small boy in a green jacket lingering behind a tree across the square.

“Henry!” she said, but not loudly enough for him to hear her. “I told him to stay far away from all of this.”

“That’s just it,” Darcy said. “I don’t think he’s been very far away from any of this.”

Lizzie gasped. “You don’t think he’s responsible, do you?”

Darcy shrugged. “You could ask him, but I think if you did, he’d run and you’d never see him again. But he has been around every corner of this case, and he has no love for Hughes or the men in charge of the smuggling ring. Perhaps he decided that you were the just what this case needed to expose the truth and wanted to ensure that you didn’t give up.”

“As if I would,” Lizzie said with a huff. But she thought back to the first time she’d seen him, and his nest near the storehouse. There had been building materials and... bricks. She recalled slipping her card beneath one and wiping away the grime that had gotten on her gloves. “He’s quite clever, you know. I think there’s more to him than meets the eye.”

“I agree,” Darcy said, and he waved toward the boy. “I think we should help him, if we can.”

“Really?” Lizzie asked eagerly. “I think that would be lovely, if he ever gets close enough to let us speak with him again.”

But to her surprise, Henry lifted a tentative hand and returned Darcy’s wave. And then he turned and took off down an alley.

“I have a good feeling about him,” Darcy told her, and then surprised her by placing an arm around her shoulders and steering her toward his waiting carriage.

They’d almost reached it when a nearby carriage door opened and Josette Beaufort leaned out. “Mr. Darcy! Miss Bennet!”

They approached the carriage and found Josette, looking quite disheveled and teary, but otherwise unharmed. “Are you all right, Miss Beaufort? Do you need us to accompany you home?” Lizzie asked.

“No, no,” she said, wiping her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief. “I just wanted to thank you. I had a very enlightening conversation with a gentleman... actually, I didn’t get his name. But he told me that Leticia was trying to expose Richard, and that you put all the pieces together. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Darcy said.

“I’m sorry it wasn’t more,” Lizzie added.

Josette shook her head and gave them a small smile. “Leticia was headstrong, and if she put her mind to something, there was no talking her out of it. She was trying to help, I know. I just wish she’d told me.”

An awkward pause ensued, and Lizzie was at a loss for what to say. But then Josette smiled, and said, “Take care of yourselves, Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennet. Please do not take offense, but I hope we shall not run into each other again.”

“No offense taken,” Lizzie assured her.

“I am sorry, Josette,” Darcy said. “Not just for Leticia, but for... everything.”

“I know,” she said. “You’ve changed, Darcy.” Lizzie waited for her to say something more, but instead she closed the carriage door and leaned back in her seat. A moment later, her driver pulled away and she disappeared from sight when the carriage turned a corner.

Lizzie looked up Darcy expectantly, but he remained quiet. Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore. “What did she mean?”

“What?” Darcy asked, as if he hadn’t been present mere moments earlier.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about,” she teased, but she was half serious. “You’ve never told me what transpired between you and Josette. Not precisely.”

Darcy looked supremely uncomfortable. “I told you—we courted, but after a short time we parted ways. She wanted different things, and I...”

“You apologized for everything,” Lizzie argued. “Tell me what everything means.”

Darcy looked at the ground and sighed. “It’s not that I want to keep it a secret. But I’m afraid you won’t like me very much after I tell you.”

“Impossible,” Lizzie promised. “Now, out with it.”

Darcy sighed. “It’s embarrassing, Lizzie.”

“Because she turned you down?”

“No. I mean, a little, but... that’s not all. Or not it, entirely.” He seemed desperate to look anywhere but at her. “As you may be aware, I am not always the most sociable person.”

“I am aware,” Lizzie said with an indulgent smile. “Was she?”

“She knew that I didn’t relish fanciful social interactions. It was what drew us together initially. I grew to like her, despite what I viewed at the time as certain... disadvantages.”

“What disadvantages?” Lizzie asked.

“This is the part where I don’t come off so nicely,” he told her, finally looking her in the eye. “I told her she wasn’t always accepted in society circles, although she was liked well enough. But some people choose to hold her parentage against her, and it makes certain social situations awkward. I knew that anyone she married would share that burden, and I truly didn’t mind, but...”

Lizzie knew Darcy well enough by now to predict where this was going. “Darcy. Tell me you were not so frank with her about this matter when you proposed marriage!”

“Well, I didn’t use those exact words!”

Lizzie turned her gaze up to the sky. “What did you say?”

“I believe what I said was... I understood that our family circumstances made a union between us unlikely, but I admired her and, despite the fact that it went against the wishes of my family, I would gladly ask for her hand in marriage.”

Lizzie merely stared at him. She could not imagine a more atrocious proposal.

“It was awful of me,” he rushed to add. “And it should comfort you to know that she told me so. She would have been within her rights to turn me out at that instant, but somehow she managed to refuse me and make me understand that we were fundamentally ill-suited. Which was kinder than I deserved.”

Lizzie finally laughed. “I would have slapped you!”

Darcy raked a hand through his hair. “I was striving for honesty . I thought ladies appreciated that quality.”

“Honesty is all well and good,” Lizzie agreed. “But I am not sure you needed to be that honest when proposing marriage. You might want to work on improving your technique if you ever want to be successful.”

An instant later, Lizzie realized the implication of her words and she felt heat rush throughout her body. She opened her mouth to take back what she said, explain that she was merely teasing Darcy. But no words came out. Because... perhaps she didn’t want to take it back. She wanted Darcy to propose to her. Not now, and not next week or next month. But someday. Someday, she thought that she might like to hear whatever pretty words Darcy could muster. And even if they weren’t perfectly romantic—this was Darcy, after all—they would be heartfelt and honest, and they would be from Darcy . And she’d be ready to hear them, and she would say yes when he was done. Because Lizzie knew that Darcy wanted her to say yes, and have it be her choice, not influenced by her mother or society.

Darcy watched her carefully, and it was as though he could read her like an open book. He smiled slowly, and said, “Duly noted, Miss Bennet.”

She grinned then, but because she was herself, she couldn’t help but add, “I suppose from now on we ought to watch our backs. How long do you think it will take before Lady Catherine hears of what happened and our part in it?”

“I don’t know,” Darcy said. “Not long, probably. But right now I’m far more worried about what your mother is going to do to the both of us when I escort you home.”

“Are you sure you want to come to the door? You could drop me off at the top of the street once more, for old time’s sake.”

“Not a chance.”

Lizzie laughed. “Are you prepared for what will follow?”

She meant it in jest, but Darcy met her gaze with a quiet intensity that took her breath away. He offered her his hand. “I am. Are you?”

“You know,” she said as she took it, “I do believe I am.”