Pride and Premeditation (Jane Austen Murder Mystery #1)(37)

Or, Bingley had snapped and killed Hurst in a fit of rage and tried to cover it up. Darcy was in on it and wanted her away from the case, lest she reveal the truth.

Lizzie did not like that theory.

Would her father still consider her a fit, logical candidate for solicitor at the firm if she uncovered that Bingley was involved in the murder? Or would she just be made to look the fool for wasting time on an unwinnable case?

Longbourn & Sons was just ahead now, and Lizzie strode to the entrance. The front door swung open just as she was reaching for it, nearly knocking her aside. She took a step back, and a vaguely familiar voice said, “I beg your pardon— Miss Bennet!”

She looked straight up into Darcy’s eyes and found herself quite breathless.

“Mr. Darcy,” she finally managed. His name felt heavy on her tongue, but she pushed on brazenly forth. “What on earth brings you here? Finally come to accept my assistance?”

He laughed as if she’d just told a very witty joke. “On the contrary, I’ve just spoken to your father. I’m sure he’ll explain the purpose of my visit.”

All of Lizzie’s excitement at the day’s developments pooled into dread. Darcy smiled, an expression that Lizzie realized she had yet to see him wear. It changed his face entirely, from brooding and haughty to . . . well, not exactly warm. But interesting. It was a smile that concealed secrets Lizzie wished to know. “Good day, Miss Bennet.”

He stepped neatly around her and into his waiting carriage, drawn by a fine pair of matching black geldings. She did not give him the satisfaction of watching him pull away but stepped inside and immediately looked about for Charlotte, trying not to panic. What had he told her father?

Charlotte looked up from her desk and spotted Lizzie. However, she did not give her the warm smile Lizzie was accustomed to. “Lizzie. Mr. Darcy was just here.”

“I saw,” Lizzie said. “What did he want?”

But before Charlotte could come up with an answer, her father’s voice rang out. “Elizabeth!”

She looked up. Only Mrs. Bennet called her Elizabeth. Only Mrs. Bennet, and very, very occasionally Mr. Bennet, when he was angry with her. Now her father stood framed in his office door, displeasure heavy on his face and Collins simpering at his side.

Her father stepped aside. “In here. Now.”





Ten


In Which Lizzie Calls upon Darcy



LIZZIE HAD ONLY A precious few moments to wrap her mind around this current development and get a handle on the situation. But she was nothing if not a quick thinker, and the moment the sturdy office door had closed behind her and Mr. Bennet, she asked, “What did Mr. Darcy want?”

“How did you become acquainted with Mr. Darcy?” her father countered.

“Through Mr. Bingley. Was Mr. Darcy consulting on a business matter?”

“How did you become acquainted with Mr. Bingley?”

Lizzie hesitated, unable to come up with a bland response. Her hesitation was her downfall.

“God almighty, Lizzie,” her father said, sinking into his chair. “I knew you were curious about this case, but I told you we wouldn’t be pursuing it. Mr. Bingley has already engaged counsel.”

“Well, I didn’t know that when I went to Newgate,” she replied.

“You went to Newgate?”

“That’s how I made Mr. Bingley’s acquaintance. He was so impressed, he invited me to call on him. I met his sisters and presented my case, and he agreed that I could make inquiries, although he’s retaining Mr. Darcy.”

Mr. Bennet gaped at his daughter. When he had recovered enough to speak, he simply said, “Your mother must never learn of this.”

“Obviously,” Lizzie said. “But Papa, this case has turned rather interesting—”

“And the other day, when you were asking me about witnesses—did you have a suspect in mind?”

“Well . . . yes.”

“And it didn’t happen to be Miss Caroline Bingley, did it?”

“Why do you ask?” Lizzie stalled.

“Because Mr. Darcy has asked me that I ‘rein in’ my daughter and explain to her if she does not cease casting aspersions on the character of Miss Bingley, or any other member of the Bingley family, he will bring a libel suit against Longbourn and Sons.”

“Libel? That’s a stretch!” Lizzie’s fury made her skin feel hot and tight. “I’ve not accused anyone. Yet.”

“Your actions speak,” her father responded. “What else will people assume when you’re poking about those closest to the accused? To the murder victim? We are not investigators, Lizzie!”

“I know, and I don’t suspect Miss Bingley anymore, although she was holding back, just as I suspected. I was able to—”

“No,” her father said flatly. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

“But Mr. Bingley said—”

“I’m your father, and I say you will drop this at once!”

Lizzie stiffened in shock. It was rare that she heard her father raise his voice in anger, or even frustration, and the few times she had witnessed it, it had never been directed at her. His anger at her made her feel like a small child, and her dreams of being on the same side of the desk as he seemed further away than ever. “I simply thought that if I could show you I’m capable of handling a case—”