Pride and Premeditation (Jane Austen Murder Mystery #1)(48)

Lizzie watched him vanish from view. She felt both sad and helpless. London was full of injustices, both large and small. How did one even begin to address them all?

For now, Lizzie had a job to do, and she took comfort in having her first solid lead in more than a day. She set out toward the docks. Thames Street was not very far away from her own home, but the difference made by moving a couple of blocks closer to the river was remarkable. The damp felt heavier, especially this cloudy morning, and the streets were crowded with carts and wagons ferrying cargo and day laborers looking for a job. There were fewer shops, and therefore fewer ladies about, so she garnered curious looks. Lizzie kept her head high and tried to look as though she knew exactly where she was headed. She was just stepping around a particularly pungent fish cart when she heard her name.

She turned and was surprised to find the lanky figure of Wickham heading in her direction. She felt the corners of her mouth turn up in a smile. “Mr. Wickham! Are you on duty this morning?”

“Off duty, as luck would have it.” He caught up with her, panting slightly. “I just was finishing up my shift, and I thought to myself, Whatever could Miss Bennet be investigating today? I decided to take a walk in your neighborhood, and I spotted you about a block and a half back.”

“Oh.” Lizzie was not accustomed to being pursued so often in one week, but Wickham’s presence reminded her she ought to be a tad more careful. She really didn’t have the time for another unscheduled carriage confab with Lady Catherine today. “I’m off to speak with a witness who used to work in the Hurst household.”

“Care for a bit of company?”

Lizzie felt her cheeks warm despite the cool morning air. She couldn’t say no to that dimple, but . . . “The only thing, Mr. Wickham, is that my conversation is regarding a delicate matter. I’m afraid if she knew you were a Runner, she might not want to speak with me.”

“Then introduce me as your acquaintance. Colleague, if you like.” Wickham stepped up to her and offered her his arm.

Lizzie took it after a moment’s hesitation. “All right then. But let me do the talking.”

“Of course, Miss Bennet. I defer to you—it’s your case, after all. But would you do me the honor of telling me what you’ve learned since our last outing together?”

“Not much, I’m afraid,” Lizzie said, but how wonderful to have a man not only acknowledge that she was capable but defer to her! She told him how her progress had been stymied by Darcy showing up at her father’s office to threaten legal action.

“That sounds like him,” Wickham remarked.

His comment made Lizzie wonder if Wickham’s experience with Darcy was more than an encounter. “You’re acquainted?”

“In a way,” he hedged. “But I don’t trust him.”

“Because he killed a man in a duel?” Lizzie wasn’t sure why she repeated this bit of gossip, but it did the trick of shocking Wickham. Lizzie pressed her advantage. “I’ve heard the rumors. Do you know whom he challenged?”

Wickham regarded her uneasily. “Scandalous rumors follow him wherever he goes. Fortunately for him, his father has enough money to distract from his less honorable qualities.”

“You seem to know a fair bit about the Darcys,” Lizzie said, fishing.

Wickham’s response was not what Lizzie was expecting. “I used to work at Pemberley.”

Lizzie halted in surprise. “What? Why didn’t you say?”

“I don’t like dwelling on it. It was my first job and I worked for his father, doing the odd side job here and there. He told me he’d send me to school if I kept up the good work.”

“What happened?” Lizzie asked gently, dreading the answer.

Wickham looked to the gray skies, then back at her. “It’s painful to talk about, considering how it all ended. I worked my way up to clerk when his son started at the firm. He was only a year younger than me but had already been to university. Had his sights set on going to the Inns of Court and one day being called to the bar. You could tell the moment he walked in, he was surveying everything as if it was his for the taking.”

Lizzie knew that look of Darcy’s well.

“I was doing all right, keeping my head down, until I did a little work for Darcy. A libel suit, but the information I dug up on the client didn’t align with Darcy’s idea of the case. He refused to pay me. I said that I’d go to his father, but I wasn’t even given the chance before Darcy had me escorted from the building and threatened to charge me with trespassing if I ever came back.”

“The nerve,” Lizzie said, her voice quiet, but she was simmering inside.

Wickham wouldn’t quite meet her gaze, but she could see the emotion in his face as he continued. “I wrote letters, but they were never answered; I made inquiries and was threatened for it. I was in a bad shape and out of funds, so I joined the navy. It didn’t suit me, and now I’m back here, making a living the best way I can.”

“That’s very unfair,” Lizzie murmured. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Thank you,” Wickham said, and patted her hand. “You see now why I’m suspicious?”

“I do,” Lizzie said. “And I’ll not lie—every person I meet seems to have a similar story regarding Darcy.” She thought of a saying her father often uttered in the course of a case—Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.