“Let us simply happen to arrive at breakfast a little early, then?”
“That would be perfect.” His eyes met hers. For a moment, they stood in silence, the air between them charged with unspoken thoughts.
But then she recalled Mr. Darcy was only here because of his promise to her father, and she spoke to break the spell. “Good night, Mr. Darcy.”
“Good night, Miss Bennet. Sleep well.”
As Elizabeth made her way to her chambers, she found herself both anticipating and dreading their meeting tomorrow. What new development might Mr. Darcy have to share? He could not give his entire life over to a prolonged visit at Hollydale.
Papa had reached Longbourn less than a week ago. She had hoped she would not need to write him before everythingwas resolved but depending upon what Mr. Darcy had to say tomorrow, she might not have a choice.
The morning light was just beginning to filter through the windows of Hollydale’s breakfast room when Elizabeth entered. She had risen earlier than usual, hoping to steal a few moments of solitude before her meeting with Mr. Darcy. She was still attracted to the man—more now than ever—and she wished to prepare herself to be alone with him. He did not share her feelings, or, if he did, he was unwilling to act upon them. He was fulfilling a promise to her father, nothing more, and she must reconcile herself to that truth.
To her surprise and chagrin, she found Mr. Darcy already in the breakfast room, standing by the window with a cup of coffee in his hand. She found herself admiring the picture he made, his tall, proud form framed by the soft glow of the early morning light. There was something almost peaceful about him. Elizabeth took a breath and stepped forward.
Mr. Darcy turned at the sound of her entrance, and for a moment, they simply regarded one another. “Good morning, Miss Bennet,” he said, his voice low and warm. “I hope I am not disturbing your routine.”
Elizabeth shook her head, moving further into the room. “Not at all, Mr. Darcy. As I said last night, I am an early riser by nature.”
She made her way to the sideboard to pour herself a cup of tea. The room was quiet save for the distant rumblings of the servants making the house ready for the day.
They were alone for now. “I believe you had some information for me, Mr. Darcy?”
He moved closer, setting his cup down on the table before speaking. “I am afraid there has been another incident, though I cannot be sure it involves Hollydale.”
Elizabeth carried her teacup to the table and sat down across from Mr. Darcy, who took his own chair. “What is it?”
“A set of silver candlesticks appeared in the cache yesterday.” Mr. Darcy’s expression was grave. “Have you noticed anything like that missing from the house?”
She stared at him for a moment before she managed to ask, “Do you mean he has been inside?”
“I do not know,” Mr. Darcy admitted. “But whether it is Hollydale or another home, the candlesticks are far more valuable than any of the other items. The man is growing bolder. We must take some additional precautions.”
Her mind was racing, but she managed to nod. “What do you suggest?”
Mr. Darcy leaned forward. “First, we must conduct an inventory of Hollydale’s valuables.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Mrs. Riggs is an efficient housekeeper. She began updating it before Mr. Ellis’s death with the understanding there would be a new owner.”
“Excellent.” Mr. Darcy finished what was left of his coffee. “Would you mind if I sent Mr. Riggs to fetch her?”
“Of course not,” Elizabeth said. She waited for a time so they could eat together, but he did not immediately return, and she was hungry. After a quarter of an hour, she served herself and sat down. But no sooner had she picked up her fork than Mr. Darcy returned with Mrs. Riggs in tow.
The housekeeper curtsied, and when she straightened and lifted her head, Elizabeth saw she wore a worried frown.
“Miss Bennet, Mr. Darcy has informed me of the situation with the silver candlesticks,” Mrs. Riggs said. “I have brought the inventory, but I fear it may not be as helpful as you might wish.”
Elizabeth set down her fork. “What do you mean, Mrs. Riggs?”
The housekeeper sighed. “In his later years, Mr. Ellis developed a habit of . . . hiding things. I have been attempting to locate everything since his passing, but I am not certain I have found all the items yet. There are several silver candlesticks listed here. I am still missing five pairs, but that does not necessarily mean any of them were taken.”
“Why would he do such a thing?” Mr. Darcy inquired. “Hide things, I mean.”
“I am not entirely certain, sir,” Mrs. Riggs replied. “He became quite secretive near the end. We all considered it just an oddity of old age.” She hesitated. “But I do remember that he had received a visitor just before he developed the habit. Whether or not it was related, I cannot tell.”
Elizabeth exchanged a glance with Mr. Darcy. This bit of information made their already perplexing situation more complex.
She was both disappointed and relieved. The inventory’s inconclusiveness meant they were no closer to solving the problem of the thief, but it also meant Mr. Darcy would need to stay longer at Hollydale. She chided herself as soon as the thought entered her head, for it was selfish to keep the man and his sister here when they had their own business to be getting on with.
