Pride and Premeditation (Jane Austen Murder Mystery #1)(29)

Wickham laughed. “Now, Miss Bennet. I would’ve thought you were made of sterner stuff. It’s the nature of the work, I’m afraid.”

Lizzie found herself warming up to his good humor, despite her anxiety. “To be sure. It’s just, I’m not sure how much longer I can be out, so if something is going to happen, it better be soon. Has there been any more activity at the Hurst house?”

“Not a bit, I’m afraid. You’ve given the butler quite a scare—the house has been shut up tighter than Newgate since your visit.”

Lizzie declined to mention that Newgate wasn’t quite as secure as he might believe. “There have been ladies coming and going all day long,” she told him. “But none of the household has left.”

“Do we think that she’s likely to leave via the front door, or is there any chance she’ll skulk about the servants’ entrance?”

Lizzie felt a quickening of her pulse at Wickham’s use of the word we—was this what it felt like to be in partnership with someone? “I don’t know, honestly. I can’t imagine her using the back door, and if she doesn’t believe that anyone is on to her, I suppose she’ll go about as she always does. I’ve been watching the front, as I’m only one person.”

“Good thing I’m here, then,” Wickham said with a grin. “I’ll loop around to the alley and watch the back, in case she makes a break for it. I’ll come out at the top of the lane and whistle if I see her leave.”

“All right, but only for a half hour longer,” Lizzie agreed, and Wickham loped off before she could tell him to take care. She watched him go, trying to corral her feelings of excitement that Wickham had shown up.

Be sensible, she told herself. Now was not the time to be distracted by Wickham.

But Wickham proved to be correct—not a quarter of an hour had passed before she heard a low, melodic whistle, and she looked up to see Wickham waiting at the street corner, his posture ready for action. Lizzie picked up her skirts and trotted toward him.

He was in the process of hailing a cab as Lizzie drew near. “She climbed into that carriage,” he exclaimed, pointing down the block.

Lizzie didn’t need to be told to hurry—she leapt into the cab before it made a complete stop, startling the driver. “Follow that carriage,” Wickham called to him, jumping in after Lizzie.

“You were right,” Lizzie declared as they lurched into motion. “If I’d been alone, I’d have missed her altogether.”

“It was just luck,” Wickham insisted. “You were the one who suspected she might make a move.”

“Depending on where she goes, we may have to drop back a distance,” she said to Wickham, who was at the other window trying to see ahead. “She can’t spot us.”

But Lizzie needn’t have worried. The approaching dusk made it difficult to see Caroline’s carriage, but she had to give credit to their driver—he kept apace as they drove through the streets. Their chase led them to Sutton Street, which was moderately busy even at this time of evening. Wickham called out to the driver to let them out down a ways from where Caroline had stopped in front of a handsome stone building, rather too big to be someone’s residence. Lizzie and Wickham watched as Caroline emerged from her carriage, spoke a few words to the driver, and then went inside. Lizzie noted that she was dressed in a light-colored evening gown, which puzzled her even more—where was she headed?

They emerged from their cab, and when it became apparent that Wickham wasn’t going to pay the driver, Lizzie reached into her reticule. Wickham looked up and down the street, and when Lizzie began to march up to the building, he placed a hand on her elbow. “Wait.”

“I don’t want to lose her,” Lizzie protested, but Wickham’s warm touch was distracting. It wasn’t proper, the way he touched her, and yet she could not bring herself to draw away.

“She’s gone inside. I doubt that she’ll get away from you now, Miss Bennet.” Mr. Wickham drew her back and said, “Let’s watch.”

Another carriage pulled up to the building that Caroline had disappeared into, and more finely dressed ladies emerged, along with a gentleman. “It’s a public assembly,” Lizzie realized, and as soon as she spoke the words, she could hear the faint strains of music in the air. Public assembly halls held dances multiple times per week, and if Mrs. Bennet had her way, she would drag her daughters to one every night. They were a convenient way to socialize with other respectable people.

“I would have taken her for the sort of young lady who went to Almack’s, myself,” Wickham mused.

“Agreed,” Lizzie murmured, although she had never been to Almack’s. Only the richest, most exclusive members of the ton went there. And by the state of the guests’ clothing and their carriages—some hired—she guessed that this public assembly was a step down the social ladder for Caroline, meant for the middle class.

“I suppose she can’t show her face in finer places, not with her brother up for murder,” Wickham pointed out.

“True.” Lizzie heaved a sigh. “We won’t be able to follow her in.”

“Why not?”

Lizzie held back an incredulous laugh. “I’m not properly attired, never mind we don’t have a subscription!”