She swallowed. “And… Alice? Is anyone inquiring about her?” She hated how uncertain her voice sounded.
Darcy nodded. “Yes.”
She gulped, hating to voice the quite reasonable fear that refused to be silenced. “Do you… do you believe she is alive?”
His jaw flexed. “That is what I hope to determine.”
Elizabeth looked away, staring out over the rolling fields.
Who in her household could possibly be closer to her than her own maid? Alice had been the only person who had seen the tremble in her hands when she dressed for that radically impromptu audience with royalty… the one that she never returned from. It was only logical someone might think her maid could know something, have heard something. If someone had decided that Alice was another loose end to be… tied off—
Oh, dear… what had she done?
Darcy’s voice was quieter when he spoke again. “If their intent is to secureyoursilence, I cannot think anyone would kill your maid. If anything, they might hold her until… Well. I am sure she is alive. We need only to find her.”
She nodded jerkily. “How?”
“I have a man I trust assisting me in London. And he has men at his disposal, as well.”
She glanced up at him. “Your cousin.”
Darcy’s gaze flickered to her. “Yes.”
She exhaled slowly.
So.
This was the truth of it. She wasnotsafe. She could not even clasp at the illusion of safety.
Darcy had not been panicking yesterday out of mere propriety or a sense of wounded pride. He had believed—trulybelieved—that she was gone. That realization made her blood turn to ice.
She pressed her lips together. “And you?”
He frowned. “What of me?”
She studied his face, her pulse thrumming a little faster than she liked. “What is your plan?”
Darcy hesitated.
And Elizabeth—quick, perceptive, always watching—caught it. And changed tactic. “No, nevermind that for now. Why are you doing this?” she asked suddenly.
Darcy exhaled sharply, his shoulders rolling back. “Doing what?”
She shot him a look. “Mr. Bingley did not think of coming today all by himself. You came to lecture me—I see it in your eye. You still look half panicked over something that, by your own admission, is already resolved.”
His jaw tightened. “I have no intention of arguing with you further.”
“That is not an answer.”
He kept his gaze fixed ahead. “It is the only answer you will receive.”
Elizabeth huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “You are not my father, Mr. Darcy. And you are certainly not a philanthropist who looks after another’s interests merely out of the good of your heart. And do not tell me ‘The Prince Said So.’ There must be areason. So what is it?”
“I have a duty to my country, madam.”
“No, no,” she said, waving him off, “I expect better. A man of ‘duty’ alone would have long ago left me to rot. I have told you everything I remember. Go find your gunman and let me to my own fate. But you refuse to do that. Why?”
His lips parted slightly, but then he shut them again.
