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"It is tolerable," Elizabeth said.

"I have heard that word before. I do not trust it."

"Then you must consult my brothers. They have considerable practice in declaring me intolerable."

"I have never declared you so," Saye said from the door. "I have merely observed that you choose inconvenient moments to be correct."

He carried a folded document. Richard immediately relinquished the chair nearest Elizabeth's right hand, and Saye took it without remark. They had done this so naturally throughout her years in the family that Elizabeth scarcely noticed the movement. Albrecht noticed. He had travelled down from London in the carriage following Lady Matlock's that morning, and had paused belowstairs to ask after the injured groom before coming up. His face softened at the brothers' easy consideration for Elizabeth, then tightened again with concern.

"Will you hear what we learned?" Saye asked. "The magistrate from the nearest town has agreed to take statements. I would rather you knew what is happening than discovered it from servants' whispers."

"I should be grateful."

"The farmer, Mr. Hales, has walked that lane every week for twenty years. He says the surface was badly damaged in the last rain, but it had not been closed. No cart was overturned upon the principal road. Pike's explanation was false."

Darcy's mouth tightened. "And the turn?"

"There is a firm, passable road to Ashcombe along the approach Elizabeth expected. Pike left it deliberately. A sensible driver might have made a mistake at the turning. A sensible driver who made a mistake would have stopped when his passengers required it."

"Instead he drove faster," Elizabeth said.

"Yes."

The Earl held out his hand for the paper. "And then fled without aiding the injured."

"That is what Mr. Hales and his son observed," Saye answered. "Tom Ellis also remembers Pike taking the turn despite his warning. Tom tried to pull him back, and Pike ordered him to keep his hands clear."

"If the groom could hear the order, why did he not stop him?" Richard asked.

"Because a passenger cannot simply seize the reins from a coachman upon a narrow lane without imperilling the team," Saye said. "Nor could a groom safely struggle with the driver at speed. Tom is blaming himself already; I will not add to his burden by pretending he had a choice he did not possess."

Elizabeth looked at him gratefully. It was precisely what she had wanted someone to say to the injured man.

Albrecht had remained silent. Now he spoke in the careful English he used when greatly moved. "If a man seeks to do harm to my niece, I wish him found. But I do not wish the whole household to decide what happened before the evidence is heard."

"Neither do I," Saye answered. "That is why we have asked for witnesses, not confessions."

The Earl told Elizabeth that the local magistrate had been informed of the suspicious circumstances. A clerk would record the statements given by those who had travelled in the coach and those who had witnessed its collapse. There was no certainty that Pike could be found quickly, but a description had been sent to inns, tollhouses, and coaching yards along the likely roads.

"I remember his face only in profile," Elizabeth said. "He kept turning away when I looked at him."

"That is useful in itself," Darcy answered, "but you must not manufacture a memory in order to be helpful."

She glanced at him. "A useful prohibition. Shall you obey it when describing what you believe I ought to have done?"

"I had not intended to supply such a description."

"Then we shall both be models of restraint."

The exchange brought a fleeting smile to Lady Matlock's face. It was a small comfort, and Elizabeth was glad to have given it.

That afternoon, Saye and Darcy went to the overturned coach with Mr. Hales and a wheelwright from the neighbouring village. They examined the vehicle where it had been hauled upright, its damaged wheel braced upon timber. The wheelwright believed the violence of the descent and the rut sufficient to explain the damage; there was no reason to suppose someone had cut through the axle or tampered with the linchpin. It mattered, Saye said, that they did not invent a second scheme merely because the first was ugly enough.

Darcy stood beside the damaged front panel and pictured Elizabeth inside, pressed against the cushions as the coach went over. A small brass catch on the door had been twisted outward. He imagined her struggling to move broken glass with her shawl wrapped around her hand. The thought left him shaken in a way he disliked admitting even to himself.

"She acted well," Saye said.

"That does not make what happened less terrible."