How odd it was. Their supposed romance was blossoming in the eyes of London, but it was not the social whirl that had gradually transformed Elizabeth’s opinion of him. She would never have thought the Fitzwilliam Darcy she had met at a Meryton assembly would be a suitable partner in an investigation, but so it was. He was observant and clever, quick to act when required — and better still, ready to listen to her. Was this the Mr Darcy that had so easily dismissed her when first they had met? It seemed hardly possible.
Finally, after a late night at an interminable card party, Darcy insisted they take a morning’s respite. “If we continue at this pace, Miss Bennet,” he said as they stepped out into the crisp sunshine of Hyde Park, “we shall both collapse before the culprit is unmasked.”
Elizabeth smiled wearily. “And that would only give them more material for their infernal scandal sheet.”
They began their promenade along the Serpentine, falling into step with ease. The brisk air cleared Elizabeth’s foggedmind, and for a moment she allowed herself to enjoy the simple pleasure of walking. Though she was grateful for her pelisse, as the air still bore a formidable chill.
“I have some further news to share with you,” Darcy said, gloved hands clasped behind his back. “I had the pleasure of finding a small printing press that publishes the most salacious gossip in theton.”
Elizabeth nearly tripped and would have fallen into the mud and grass had Darcy’s quick hand not steadied her. Her face flushed as she straightened. The park was not as busy this time of day, as only the truly fashionable who rose early to see and be seen were out, but Elizabeth had no doubt that Darcy’s gallantry and her clumsiness would be whispered about in parlour rooms.
“Are you well, Miss Bennet?” Mr Darcy asked her with concern.
“Perfectly,” she said, stifling a groan. She smoothed the front of her coat, doing her best to regain her composure. “Though I admit I wish I had been the one to think of finding the press itself. What did you discover?”
Darcy’s expression remained carefully neutral, but Elizabeth had learned to read the subtle tightening around his eyes that showed his satisfaction. “It took some persuasion and a rather generous application of coin, but I was able to locate the establishment responsible for printing the scandal sheets. It is not too far from your residence.”
Elizabeth’s pulse quickened. “Where?”
“Tucked between a tobacconist and a wigmaker. The proprietor was initially reluctant to divulge any information about his clients, citing professional discretion.” His mouthquirked slightly. “Apparently, even purveyors of gossip have their principles.”
“How did you convince him?”
“I appealed to a different principle. Namely, his desire to avoid being implicated in a scheme that has caused material harm to several families of consequence. I suggested that his cooperation might be viewed favourably should any legal proceedings arise from this matter.”
Not for the first time, Elizabeth found herself obliged to be glad that she and Mr Darcy had entered the investigation together. She could not have questioned the printer in such a manner. Indeed, she could not have visited the establishment at all without raising suspicion, not to mention taking an unacceptable risk with her reputation. Elizabeth smiled, imagining how the printer must have cowered in Mr Darcy’s presence. “How very diplomatic of you.”
“I have my moments.” He paused as they bowed to a small group of ladies who tittered as they passed. Once they were out of earshot, he continued. “The editor was considerably more forthcoming once I assured him I had no interest in disrupting his business, only in identifying one particular client.”
“And?” Elizabeth fought to keep her expression pleasant and unbothered, even as her heart beat firmly against her ribs. Was this their first tangible lead at last?
“He confirmed that the items concerning your family, as well as those regarding Georgiana, were all submitted by the same individual. A man who has been visiting the premises regularly for the past month.”
Elizabeth’s stomach filled with a disorienting combination of hope and dread. “Did the printer give a description?”
Darcy reached into his coat and withdrew a small piece of paper, which he handed to her as they walked. “I asked him to write down everything he could recall. The man gave his name as ‘Mr Smith,’ which is almost certainly false, but the physical description may prove useful.”
Elizabeth unfolded the paper, her eyes scanning the cramped handwriting. Medium height. Fair complexion. Light brown hair worn fashionably. Well-dressed in regimentals —
She breathed in sharply.
“What is it?” Darcy asked, turning to face her with immediate concern.
“Regimentals,” Elizabeth murmured, rereading the description. “He wore regimentals.”
“Yes. He was quite specific about that detail, and there was something more. He said the man clearly wished to be noticed and admired, and made a point of arriving when the shop was busy so that he might be seen in his uniform. With considerable amusement, he told me that the man, though not handsome, yet seemed to take great pride in his appearance.”
A chill ran down Elizabeth’s spine. The militia was quartered in Meryton. She knew several of the officers by sight and had danced with some of them at local assemblies. The description tugged at her memory.
“Miss Bennet?” Darcy’s voice held a note of urgency now. “Do you recognise the man?”
“I’m not certain,” she admitted, though her mind was already racing through possibilities. “There were many officers stationed near Longbourn. Most of them are amiable enough, though. Not the sort of men I would have thought capable of such a calculated scheme.” She looked up at Darcy. “Though I suppose that is precisely the point, is it not? We are looking for someone who does not wish to be suspected.”
They resumed walking, though at a slower pace. Elizabeth found herself acutely aware of Darcy’s proximity, the way his arm nearly brushed hers as they moved in step.
“The printer mentioned something else,” Darcy said after a moment. “He said the man seemed to refer to another set of notes when asked for details on his information.”
“Another set of notes?” Elizabeth forced her thoughts back to the matter at hand. “That is very curious. It might indicate that his memory was poor, or perhaps that his information was not first-hand.”
