Page 58 of Love Among the Shadows
Elizabeth rose reluctantly, her eyes lingering upon Darcy. His were still fixed upon her, heavy with unspoken meaning. She curtsied; he bowed low, his hand tightening briefly upon the back of his chair as though to keep himself still.
Thus, they left him and the colonel, Mr Bennet grave and thoughtful, Elizabeth torn between fear and a strange, growing certainty that Ramsgate held the key to all.
Thirty Two
Elizabeth nearly choked upon a slice of apple she had been nibbling when, through the parlour window, she caught sight of Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy approaching on horseback, their mounts trotting smartly up the gravel drive.
Her heart gave a violent thump.Mr Darcy? Here? What is he doing at Longbourn?
Ever since she and her father had gone to Netherfield with Lydia’s account of the murdered tradesman and his sudden mention ofRamsgatethree days earlier, her thoughts had been in disarray. She had supposed Mr Darcy must have departed for Ramsgate at once. Yet no word had reached her, and with no means of confirming his movements, uncertainty gnawed at her incessantly.
She told herself that her mind was occupied only with the danger, with the mystery, with the strange chain of murders that had unsettled all Meryton. Yet Darcy’s image lingered nonetheless—his grave expression, his steady gaze, the solemn trust he had placed in her to guard his confidence. She longed for resolution. Surely Ramsgate must hold some clue, if only for Meryton’s safety, for Mr Darcy’s peace of mind and reputation—and perhaps for the quiet stirrings within her that she could not wholly put aside.
And now, here he stood, come to Longbourn without warning.
Mrs. Bennet’s delighted cry broke through Elizabeth’s reverie. “Mr Bingley! Oh, my sweetest Jane, he is come again!”She clutched her daughter’s hand, scarcely able to contain her joy. “Quick, Hill, show the gentlemen in at once.”
Jane blushed, her eyes bright with quiet happiness. Elizabeth could scarcely attend to her sister, for the tall figure who entered just behind Bingley drew her gaze with irresistible force. Darcy’s countenance remained as composed as ever, yet when his eyes found hers, a warmth stirred in their depths that unsettled her breath. And when he inclined his head with the faintest smile, hand brushing the brim of his hat, a flutter rose within her, light and unbidden.
After the initial courtesies, Mr Bennet stepped forward. “Mr Darcy, I had not thought to see you in Meryton still.”
Darcy inclined his head. “If it pleases you, sir, might I request a few minutes in private? It concerns the matter you and Miss Elizabeth spoke of at Netherfield. If you have no objection, perhaps Miss Elizabeth might be present as well.”
Mr Bennet’s brows rose, surprise flickering across his features, before he gave a short nod. “Very well. Elizabeth, come with me. The rest of you may entertain Mr Bingley until we return.”
Mrs. Bennet, though startled by Mr Darcy’s solemnity, was far too elated to object. “Oh yes, indeed we shall,” she said quickly, pressing Jane nearer to her admirer.
Darcy followed Elizabeth and her father into the study.
Once the door was closed, Elizabeth, still flushed with surprise, spoke unrestrained. “Mr Darcy, I confess I did not expect to see you here again so soon. I thought you and Colonel Fitzwilliam had determined upon Ramsgate.”
“At first, that was indeed our plan.” Darcy’s expression tightened, though his tone remained calm. “Yet upon further reflection, the Colonel judged it best to go alone. He believes the killer is watching me. Were I to leave for Ramsgate, it might draw attention to the place or, worse, drive the man into hiding.If he suspects we are on his trail, he could go to ground, and we might never flush him out again. It seemed wiser that I remain here and conduct myself as though nothing had changed.”
Mr Bennet gave a slow nod. “A sensible precaution. Better to keep him unguarded and overconfident than to rouse him to caution.”
Elizabeth drew a careful breath, relief stirring, though unease soon followed. His presence at Longbourn brought comfort enough, yet she knew that Ramsgate might yield nothing. The killer still lurked near and unseen. She held fast to the hope that Colonel Fitzwilliam’s plan would bring them nearer some discovery—that soon, at last, this dreadful business might be brought to its close.
Darcy looked first at Mr Bennet, then turned to Elizabeth. “I must ask for your continued discretion. The colonel and I have given out that he was recalled to London on official business, occasioned by the greater number of people arriving for Christmastide. Even Bingley knows nothing further, and it is best kept so. Yet as Miss Elizabeth has already been drawn into danger by this affair through her own determination to pursue it, and as it was you who first brought me word of Ramsgate’s possible connection, I felt bound to place my confidence in you both.”
Mr Bennet inclined his head gravely. “You have my word, Mr Darcy. Elizabeth and I shall keep your confidence.”
Elizabeth met his eyes then, her pulse quickening at the solemnity of his gaze. He trusted her, and in that trust lay both weight and warmth.
They rejoined the others in the drawing room, where Bingley’s attention was wholly fixed upon Jane. Mrs. Bennet beamed with satisfaction, and even Kitty and Lydia whispered together in girlish delight. No one spoke of the murdered tradesman, though Elizabeth half expected it, for her motherhad remarked more than once, only two days before, that every misfortune in Meryton must, in some fashion, be connected to Mr Darcy. To Elizabeth’s surprise, Mrs. Bennet merely offered a hasty but proper nod in his direction when they re-entered the room, her thoughts so entirely absorbed by Jane and Bingley’s happy conversation that she scarcely appeared troubled by Darcy’s presence at all. Elizabeth could not help but be grateful for it.
After an hour of polite conversation, punctuated by many tender glances exchanged between Jane and Bingley, the gentlemen at last prepared to depart. Darcy offered Elizabeth a bow, and when his eyes met hers, a gentleness touched his expression. She watched them go, her mind still troubled, yet steadier than before. Ramsgate’s shadow lingered, but she knew she didn’t bear it alone.
***
Colonel Fitzwilliam did not know precisely what he was meant to uncover in Ramsgate, only that duty demanded he begin there. Long habit had taught him the value of discretion, and so, when he quitted Netherfield the morning after the murdered tradesman’s body was discovered, he departed under the pretence of being summoned to London and gave the same instruction to his post-driver. Only once they were well upon the road did he order the chaise turned southward toward Ramsgate, trusting that fewer would be aware of his true destination.
The diversion, together with the wearying pace of winter travel and the hindrance of snow upon the roads, slowed him despite every effort. Horses were changed as swiftly as could be contrived, and he allowed himself but little sleep, for the urgency of his errand pressed heavily upon him. He could not know whether there was time enough for such inquiries, norwhether the killer might strike again before he returned. Yet to do nothing was the greater risk, and so he pressed on, reaching Ramsgate at last just as the sun began to set on the third day.
Finding Mrs. Younge was his only concern. Darcy had given him the address of the house where she had last been seen. It was the same house where Wickham had once attempted to elope with Georgiana. Darcy was uncertain whether she still resided there, for after replying to the last enquiry concerning her, he had ceased to keep watch, trusting that others would soon perceive her duplicity and refuse her employment. Ramsgate, however, remained the last place she was known to stay.
The house Darcy had named stood upon a rise above the harbour, its pale stone front set with high windows that looked out upon the sea. Even by lamplight, its air of respectability and the higher rent it must command, confirmed Colonel Fitzwilliam’s suspicion that Mrs. Younge could not long have remained there once Darcy ceased to pay the bills. Still, it was the last address known, and he had learned often enough in the militia to begin where the trail last ended.
He knocked and was soon shown to the landlord by a servant. The man was stout, with ruddy cheeks and a careful, calculating eye, the sort who weighed every caller by his purse as much as by his words.
