The moment they stepped into the set, his demeanor shifted slightly, the gleam of humor still in his eyes but his tone becoming more purposeful. “I am glad Darcy arranged this moment alone, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth looked at him curiously. “Oh?”
“I have been looking into that little… mystery of yours.”
Her breath hitched slightly. “And?”
They turned, partners changing briefly, but when they came back together, the colonel’s voice was lower, more cautious.
“I do not have many answers yet,” he admitted, his voice dropping lower, “but I can tell you this—the key is not ordinary. It is not a household key, nor a bank key. It is something more specialized—perhaps military, or linked to a private club, though I have not yet confirmed where.” He paused, watching her reaction carefully. “And as for the letter—there have been murmurs of other coded correspondences intercepted elsewhere, all linked to French sympathizers.”
Elizabeth’s breath hitched. “So, it is not just a mistake?”
His expression darkened. “No, Miss Bennet. Whoever left those for you did so with purpose. And whoever was meant to receive them will not be pleased by the delay.”
“Well, of course not!” she nearly snapped. “So, this means someone truly thinksIam a…” She glanced around, then cut all volume to her voice and mouthed the words, “French sympathizer?”
Fitzwilliam’s jaw tightened slightly. “That depends. If it was a simple mistake, then the one expecting it may assume an error and try again through other means.” His eyes flickered across the ballroom, as though casually assessing their surroundings. “But if they suspect discovery, or interference…”
Elizabeth did not finish his thought. She did not have to.
The colonel sighed, his voice softening. “Darcy asked me to do what I can to find out more. But Miss Bennet, I must urge you—do not take risks with this. If anything feels wrong, you must tell him immediately.”
Elizabeth studied his face, seeing the same protectiveness in his gaze that she had seen in Darcy’s. The same concern, the same resolute determination to shield her.
“I understand,”
The colonel nodded, and they said nothing else of import. By some unspoken agreement, they smiled and laughed until the dance drew to a close. As he led her from the floor, her eyes immediately found Darcy’s across the room.
And she knew, without a doubt, that he had been watching her the entire time.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It was a boldstatement, as only one partner could be chosen for the final dance before the meal, and that partner would then remain together for the evening’s grand supper. And for that partner to be the same partner a gentleman had opened the ball with, well…
There was no mistaking what it meant… or, rather, what it wassupposedto look like.
Whispers followed them as Darcy led her onto the floor again. This time, Elizabeth did not care. At least with Darcy, she felt sure of his intentions, even if they were not what everyone assumed they were. Their hands met, and as the music swelled, they moved into the steps of the dance as if it were their first chance to breathe easily in hours.
At first, neither spoke, too aware of the watching eyes. But as the figures of the dance parted them and brought them back together, Darcy finally leaned in slightly.
“You have been in high demand tonight,” he murmured.
Elizabeth arched a brow, tilting her head in mock contemplation. “And I suppose you have been terribly neglected?”
“Quite the opposite.”
Elizabeth let her eyes flick across the room, taking note of the lingering glances in their direction. Some were full of curiosity, others of approval. A few carried a sharpness that she suspected had little to do with politics. “And do you regret it yet?” she asked teasingly, lifting her chin as they came together once more.
Darcy hesitated, just for a breath. When he answered, his voice was quieter than before, more deliberate. “No.”
There was a weight to the word, a certainty of declaration that sent an unfamiliar warmth curling through her. They parted again, weaving through the other dancers, and Elizabeth found herself startled by the thought that settled unbidden in her mind. For all the political maneuvering, the gossip, the subtle social battles of the evening, she had enjoyed herself.
And even more startlingly… she had enjoyed being at Darcy’s side.
When the steps drew them back together, she let out a soft breath, tilting her head slightly to catch his gaze. “Nor do I.”
Darcy’s fingers tightened ever so slightly over hers, and he allowed the barest trace of a smile. As the final strains of music faded and the supper bell was rung, Darcy offered his arm. “To battle with us,” he said with a sigh.
