Pride and Premeditation (Jane Austen Murder Mystery #1)(15)

“That doesn’t give us a lot of time, then,” Lizzie said. Four heads turned to look at her, and she clarified, “To uncover the identity of the real killer.”

She was met with puzzled expressions. “Oh, honestly. This is only what I’ve been trying to say the entire time—if Mr. Bingley is not at fault—”

“He’s not,” Caroline and Darcy said in unison.

“Then he has been framed. We must prove his innocence.”

“That’s Darcy’s job, not yours,” Caroline said.

“No, my job as his solicitor is to advise and collect evidence,” Darcy replied. “And to engage a barrister to represent Bingley in court, if it comes to it. I’m no detective.”

“But doesn’t all legal work require a bit of detecting?” Lizzie countered.

“Not the way I practice.”

“Then perhaps you ought to practice a bit more.”

Darcy’s brow furrowed into a dark line. “Bingley, no one believes that you’re a murderer. Just stay in until next week, and don’t receive any visitors except me”—was it Lizzie’s imagination, or did Darcy shoot the tiniest of glances in her direction?—“and I’ll assemble some character witnesses. It shouldn’t be difficult to discover George’s debt collectors. We’ll sort this out.”

Lizzie fixed Darcy with a condescending look. “Is that how you’ll sort it out, then? By insisting, ‘Oh no, sir, it couldn’t have been my friend, he’s far too upstanding to have committed this crime.’”

“He is,” Darcy enunciated, as if explaining a simple concept to a child.

“That’s not the way the world works,” Lizzie said. “Mr. Bingley will be convicted because he’s the most obvious suspect.”

“Justice will be served,” Darcy insisted.

“Not with your help, it won’t. Why, it’s a wonder you even have a job if you’ve failed to grasp the injustices of this world.”

Lizzie could tell in that instant her words had upset Darcy. His jaw twitched with an unspoken response and he glared at her. She almost yearned to know what he considered an injustice in his fine, privileged life. Was it having to work for a position in his father’s firm? Lizzie would gladly work, if only someone would give her a chance. Was it being pursued by eligible young women in want of a fortune? Oh, if only inheritance-seeking suitors were the worst of Lizzie’s problems.

“With all due respect, Charles,” Darcy said through a clenched jaw, “I see no need for you to accept Miss Bennet’s meddling disguised as help. She knows nothing of how these matters work.”

“I agree with Darcy,” Caroline said.

“Darcy, you know I have the utmost respect for your judgment,” Charles began. “But Miss Bennet does have a very interesting point.”

“Which is?”

“Which is that someone killed Mr. Hurst,” Lizzie cut in. “And don’t you want to know who? And why?”

The Bingleys exchanged uncomfortable glances.

“My intention is to minimize the amount of scandal this family is subjected to,” Darcy said. “Pursuing the truth of Hurst’s habits and whatever else might have led to his demise will only cast a darker shadow on the family.”

“That’s a rather refined way of saying that you don’t care about what really happened,” Lizzie shot back.

“Do you purposefully misunderstand everything I say, Miss Bennet?”

“Do you purposefully overlook all inconvenient truths, Mr. Darcy?”

The pair glared at each other, and Lizzie found locking gazes with Darcy proved to be thrilling. His brown eyes were hardened in determination, and Lizzie felt her breath quicken, but she refused to look away first or show any weakness.

“Enough!” Bingley declared, breaking Lizzie and Darcy’s intense stare. “Now, it’s my name and my life at stake, so I think I ought to say what happens next. Darcy, you’re a good friend, and I trust you more than anyone else on earth. Of course you’ll be my solicitor. I’m sorry, Miss Bennet.”

“The most sensible thing you’ve said all morning!” Caroline agreed.

Lizzie nodded and tried to shore herself up against the disappointment. “Of course, Mr. Bingley,” she said, and cleared her throat. “I understand.”

“I won’t let you down, Charles,” Darcy promised.

“However,” Bingley added, and hope blossomed in Lizzie at the sound of that one word, “someone killed George. Who?”

The room was silent, and no answers presented themselves. Lizzie looked at the others, certain that they knew the details of Hurst’s nasty habits but due to propriety or shame wouldn’t admit them to her.

“Miss Bennet, I speak for my friend because I believe he’s too hardheaded to say it himself, but if you find anything illuminating about the case, I’d be ever so grateful. And I’d be happy to compensate you, of course, for your time investigating various leads.”

“I don’t think that’s wise,” Darcy said.

Lizzie ignored him and said, “Thank you.”

Bingley nudged Darcy when he didn’t respond right away, and the young man cleared his throat. “Ahem, yes. Anything helpful you could uncover, Miss Bennet.”