Pride and Premeditation (Jane Austen Murder Mystery #1)(86)

Lizzie sat very still, scarcely believing what she was hearing. It was everything that she had wanted . . . a week ago. She wasn’t hesitating merely because she still felt guilt ridden over Abigail’s death and likely always would feel that pang. It was more than that. The thought of one day ascending the ranks to be a robed barrister who got involved only when a solicitor had done the work and engaged her services . . . well, it was not quite as enticing as she had once believed.

Why had she aspired to be a barrister? Was it simply because it was a high position and Lizzie was nothing if not a high achiever? Or was it because she had dreamed of the credit and the thanks? Well, she had gotten much credit and thanks in the last week, but she didn’t deserve all of it—Darcy, her father, Charlotte, Fred, even Mrs. Bennet and Caroline deserved a tiny bit of thanks for their parts in helping her unravel this mystery.

“Have I misunderstood your ambitions, my dear?” her father asked.

“No,” Lizzie said, because Mr. Bennet was indeed giving her everything she’d ever asked for. But her mind kept sliding to all of the files in Collins’s office, working with Fred, heading out to question witnesses . . .

“I should have known,” her father said. “I waited too long. Mr. Darcy has asked you to work for him, hasn’t he? Well, I wouldn’t blame him. And I wouldn’t blame you, either, for taking him up on it. I won’t hold you back. I’m very proud of you, Lizzie.”

It was the second time Lizzie heard him say those words recently, and it made her tear up. “But Papa, he hasn’t. It’s just that . . . what if I don’t want to become a barrister?”

“You don’t want the job?”

“I definitely do! I love this place more than anything in the world. And I want to work—but what if I don’t want to become a barrister?”

Her father shook his head. “Don’t tell me you’ve been put off by the idea after your ordeal in court. You handled Weatherford well, and I thought you had rather more mettle than that.”

“This has nothing to do with Weatherford, Papa. But the experience with the Bingley case has given me a different perspective of things, I think. I took it on to prove myself, yes, but I kept with it because I sensed an injustice. In my investigations, I found even more instances of injustice beyond the case, and I think I’d be better suited to address them as a solicitor. Not a barrister.”

Despite sounding unsure, Lizzie grew more confident in this decision once it had been made. She had so much to learn, and not just from her father or legal texts. From her clients and Charlotte and Fred and maybe, even, from Darcy. But would Mr. Bennet see it that way, or would he say she was indecisive? She waited for his reaction.

Her father absorbed this news and shook his head, chuckling to himself. “My daughters. Always full of surprises. Lizzie, if that’s what you want, then I support you.”

“Oh, Papa!” Lizzie launched herself out of her seat and hugged him. “Thank you! Then yes, a thousand times yes, I accept.”

“Well, very good,” he said, patting her back. “For I don’t see that there’s any reason why a solicitor could not one day take over this firm. After all, you know a very good barrister-in-training. And who knows—perhaps you could coax him to work for you.”

Lizzie laughed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Mr. Bennet just smiled knowingly. “Well, I’m glad you accepted. In fact, I took the liberty of scheduling your first appointment.”

Lizzie was not at all surprised to see a familiar figure with dark hair waiting in the empty office next to her father’s. He stood when Lizzie entered, and her heart leapt at the sight of Darcy, who bowed slightly. “Hello,” she said quietly.

“Lizzie,” he said in return, and she was reminded of the warmth of their kiss. For a single moment she let herself imagine kissing him once more, then scrubbed the thought from her mind. This wasn’t a social call!

“My father said you’ve business to discuss?” she asked, struggling to maintain a professional air.

Was that a hint of a smile? “I do,” he confirmed.

Lizzie took a seat behind Collins’s—no, her—desk. It felt even better than the time she’d sat behind Darcy’s desk and imagined this moment. “Let us see to it, then.”

“Very well,” he said. “I’ve just come from a meeting with a friend of my father’s.”

“Oh?” Lizzie repeated.

“He’s an admiral,” Darcy explained.

“Of course he is.”

Darcy gave her a look, but Lizzie let him continue. “Last week I made a point of informing him of Lady Catherine’s activities, but you can understand that the navy has more pressing concerns.”

“The French,” Lizzie agreed.

“Exactly. However, it turns out that the Admiralty has recently become aware of a privateer in league with the French. He didn’t inform me how, but three days ago, the navy accosted and boarded a ship. It didn’t appear to have a captain, but there was a lady aboard who claimed she’d been kidnapped.”

Lizzie’s professional air slipped as she became excited. “Lady Catherine?”

“My thought exactly. The admiral asked me to give a description of the lady, and I said I was unable to do so, never having gotten a close look at her. But she’ll be returning to London in three days’ time. The navy is making a big fuss about escorting her home. I suggested that you be among the welcoming party. If you’re able to make a positive identification, she’ll be arrested.”