She met his gaze briefly. There was nothing remarkable in it—only the unmistakable sense that he had seen her choose, and had chosen not to contest it.
“Good night, Mr Darcy.”
Chapter Fifteen
Darcy shut the doorof his chamber with care and stood for a moment where he was, hand still on the latch.
Brutus crossed the room at once and dropped heavily at the foot of the bed, turning a slow circle before settling with a sound of contentment that Darcy did not return.
“Yes,” Darcy said under his breath. “You have done very well indeed. What the devil is with you and Miss Elizabeth?”
Brutus only stretched and offered a low groan as his eyes closed.
Darcy shook his head and crossed to the writing desk, then drew out the letter he had begun earlier. One page only. A careful opening. Polite. Circumspect. Entirely unsatisfactory.
He read it once, lips pressed thin, then folded it decisively and crumpled it for the fire.
He took a fresh sheet and seated himself, pen poised. For a moment, he stared at the blank page as though it might offer instruction. When it did not, he wrote, anyway.
My dear Uncle,
Your letter reached me this afternoon, and I would have answered at once had I not wished first to consider it properly. I thank you for your candour—
He stopped.
That was already untrue. He had wished first todismissit properly.
Darcy crumpled that paper, too, and began again.
My dear Uncle,
I received your letter today and am obliged to you for writing so plainly. You will not be surprised to hear that I have spent the better part of the evening attempting to determine whether you are correct in supposing that recent oddities of weather or herbage are anything more than coincidence.
He paused, considering the word “disturbances.”
It was serviceable. Vague. Noncommittal.
In Hertfordshire, I have observed nothing that cannot be explained by weather, neglect, or the ordinary inconveniences of rural management. That said—
His pen hovered.
“That said.”
Always the pivot to something unpleasant.
Brutus shifted at the foot of the bed, nails rasping faintly against the floor as he rolled upright and swivelled his head to stare at the wall as if he could see through it. Darcy glanced up despite himself. “What is it now?”
The dog gazed, unblinking. Darcy twisted in his seat. Either Brutus had suddenly taken an interest in the portrait of someone’s departed grandmother on the wall, or he sensed someone moving in the room beyond.
Darcy watched him for another moment, then returned to the page.
That said, I have lately encountered a number of small irregularities which, taken separately, would merit no attention at all. Taken together, they have proven more resistant to easy dismissal.
He read the sentence twice, then nodded once. Acceptable.
Several features recorded in earlier surveys do not answer to their stated purpose. A minor watercourse appears never to have carried water, and nearby growth remains unusually green for the season, despite no corresponding advantage in soil or drainage.
He stopped again.
