Page 77 of Mr. Darcy's Complex Courtship

The magistrate rubbed his chin. “The townspeople will be relieved to have one less highwayman in the area. I am eager to interrogate him—maybe he can be convinced to reveal the identity of his partner.”

“That would be ideal. And he may know where to find the rest of Mr. Nicholson’s stolen property.”

Mr. Plowman eyed me whilst he untied the robber’s ankles. “I need you to accompany me and provide an official statement.”

“Yes, of course.” I gnashed my teeth. I had yet to form a plan for obtaining an audience with Elizabeth. One way or another, Iwouldsee her.

The magistrate attempted to lift the suspect—who refused to cooperate—and mumbled an imprecation. I grabbed the prisoner’s opposite arm and wrenched him to his feet.

“Thank you.” Mr. Plowman gave me a nod.

“You are welcome.”

He indicated our route with a sweep of his hand, and we steered the prisoner forwards.

I glanced at Mr. Plowman. “It is fortuitous you happened to be in Bedford today.”

“Our constable is away on a trip, and the watchmaker called me to town because of a parcel he reported stolen from his shop that turned out to have been misplaced.”

Once the criminal had been secured in the local lock-up, Mr. Plowman directed me to the post office. A desk in a quiet corner of the building served as his make-shift office. When I completed my written statement, he skimmed my narrative.

“This will do very well.” He placed my statement in a folder. “How long will you be in town?”

“My plans are uncertain.” It struck me that he must know the townspeople and could help me find Elizabeth. “I should be obliged if you would direct me to the home of a local resident, Mr. Baxter.”

His face brightened. “Baxter is one of our leading citizens. Do you know him well?”

“No, I…um…have not met him, but a friend of mine is staying at his residence.”

“Oh?” Mr. Plowman scratched a sparse tuft of brown hair at the side of his head. “I spoke to Baxter less than a week ago, and he never mentioned he expected a guest. At any rate, his property is easy to find. Go south on the high street, turn left onto Lurke Street, then turn right onto Howard Street. Baxter’s house is the second on the right.” He placed a pencil in his coat pocket and picked up the folder. “Will you go there now?”

If only it was that simple. “No, I am to meet the Nicholsons at the surgeon’s office.”

“Then I shall accompany you.”

At Mr. Plowman’s enquiry, the elderly surgeon informed us that Mr. Nicholson had been fortunate—the bullet had passed through his leg, and he would leave with a set of crutches. The driver, though, needed to have a bullet extracted from his shoulder and would remain in the surgeon’s care overnight.

The magistrate conducted interviews of Mr. and Miss Nicholson. Afterwards, I conveyed Mr. Nicholson, now equipped with crutches, and his daughter to the Bedford Rest. The innkeeper greeted Mr. Nicholson by name and obtained an abridged recital of the Nicholsons’ ordeal.

“And since I am in Mr. Darcy’s debt, you must add the cost for his stay to my account.” Mr. Nicholson directed his smile to me. “I hope you will indulge me and not argue the point.”

“Very well. Thank you.”

“It is the least I may do. And you must have dinner with my daughter and me tonight.”

Miss Nicholson’s brown eyes twinkled. “Oh yes, you must.”

Would they be offended if I begged off? After the unexpected events of the day, I craved solitude to devise the best way to approach Elizabeth. “Forgive me, but I must decline.” Miss Nicholson’s head and shoulders drooped, so I sought a gentler tone. “I should like to join you, but I have business matters that need my attention.”

“Of course, that is understandable.” Mr. Nicholson repositioned his crutches. “After all, you expended a great deal of time and energy on our behalf today. We shall speak again tomorrow.”

I parted from them, entered my rented room, and stood at the window overlooking the street. In all probability, Elizabeth would walk in the morning, and that would be my bestopportunity to speak to her. Tomorrow, I should traverse the areas surrounding Mr. Baxter’s residence, and this time, I should find her.

Saturday, 4 July

Bedford

Darcy

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