Darcy gave a restrained smile.
“I see Fitzwilliam managed to do what I could not,” he went on. “He was able to convince you to have a few hours of recreation. I am glad of it! Shall I have the same luck and convince you to shoot with me before we leave Pemberley?”
Darcy touched his hat but said not a word as Lord Poole joined them.
“My lord, where is Mr Utterson?” Elizabeth asked whilst Mr Balfour assisted Miss Darcy and Mrs Annesley into his carriage and asked their opinions on the upholstery.
“He said his man forgot something and ran back inside,” his lordship answered. “He ought to be here by now. Darcy”—he turned—“I am glad you are enjoying yourself with your friends. I understand your estate village suffered losses last week.”
Darcy chatted easily enough with his fellow landowner about thestorm and their tenants, but then Mr Utterson ran down the steps. The effect was immediate. A shade of hauteur overspread Darcy’s features.
“Did you find whatever it was, Utterson?” Lord Poole asked, and Mr Utterson gave a polite assent and thanked him for his hospitality. Whatever Mr Utterson had forgotten inside must have been small enough to fit in his pockets because he carried nothing.
“Say a fond farewell?” Elizabeth heard Mr Balfour whisper to his friend before he took leave from his lordship. Mr Utterson gave him a scathing look and then threw himself into Darcy’s barouche.
“How d’ye do?” he muttered with a careless wave towards the box. He nodded to her and Hester, and then angled his body away from them.He really is an unpleasant sort of man.
They would have to look at a surly and silent Mr Utterson for the ride home. From the chatter that she heard from Mr Balfour’s carriage, Mrs Annesley and Miss Darcy were sure to be better entertained.
She watched Darcy as he cued the horses. The set of his shoulders, the tight grip on the reins, the silence. They would have to prove soon which man killed Carew because Darcy was not going to manage a complaisant attitude towards them for long.
I have to tell him that I know he suspects one of his friends.Darcy should know that he need not hide anything from her. She wanted to enjoy her newfound happiness with him, to move towards the ease and familiarity that was growing between them, to enjoy a season of courtship before they married. But she knew Carew’s death would weigh on him until he found her killer.
Soon she would leave Pemberley to marry from Longbourn. It was not that she would be long parted from him, but Derbyshire already felt more like home, and right now Darcy’s sanctuary was under siege. She was certain he felt absolutely wretched.
I cannot leave until we prove who killed Carew.
“I thoughtI would find you here.”
Darcy looked up and saw that Fitzwilliam stood in the doorway to his father’s favourite room. Everyone else was abed, but Darcy hadbeen sitting at his father’s desk to view the stairs, and to think. He was in his shirtsleeves, his cravat loosened, but he was no more relaxed now than he was when he first sat down.
“No one left the house tonight,” Darcy said whilst his cousin entered to sit near the empty grate. “After the party broke up, I sat here to catch anyone who tried to sneak away, but...”
“I know, I checked that the doors were still locked myself,” Fitzwilliam said. “Both of their servants said their masters were abed. Perhaps they might try tomorrow, but I think there is nothing unattended left in Lambton to take. Did you search Balfour’s and Utterson’s rooms this morning?”
He said this as though invading someone’s privacy was such an easy thing to do. Darcy might have the right to enter any room in Pemberley whenever he pleased, but it still felt wrong. He nodded, and there was nothing else to say. He had seen nothing that did not belong.
“Well, my dear Darcy, then I shall check the pawnshops in the largest neighbouring towns and hope to turn up a stolen item and a name or a description, something that you can take to the magistrate.”
Darcy clenched his fists. “I want to haul them into a room, lock the door, and refuse to let them leave until one of them confesses to killing Carew.”
Fitzwilliam scoffed. “Balfour and Utterson are from influential and well-connected families. You do not accuse the son of a rich Scottish member of parliament or the son of a baronet of stealing and killing without proof.”
Darcy exhaled loudly. The pain of the betrayal and the anxiety of who had done it was almost too much to bear.I had been happy today.He ought to have come home delighted after having proposed and been accepted. But the reality of Carew’s death came roaring back with the return of Balfour and Utterson. He could scarcely make it through the evening with a pleasant face.
“Go to bed. No one is leaving tonight.”
Darcy started. He had forgotten his cousin was there. “Soon.”
“You know, now that you have met their immediate needs,” Fitzwilliam said, rising, “your villagers and tenants might be glad toknow the master is going to marry. That might be reassuring to anyone concerned about Pemberley’s future.”
“You ought to go to bed too.”
“You ought to ask Miss Bennet again. It is plain that she admires you.”
He did not want to discuss Elizabeth now or have to explain why he was not showing the happiness he ought to feel now that he was finally engaged to the woman he loved. “Since we are dispensing advice, why do you not ask Mrs Lanyon to marry you?”
“You know why.” Darcy regretted the question, but before he could apologise, Fitzwilliam said, teasingly, “I shall overlook your rudeness since you said that out of jealousy when you still have not performed to the hilt. You could solve that problem too, you know.”
