Then, with the ease of someone who had never once been told no in her life, she slipped out into the street.
TheairinHertfordshirewas distinctly fresher than the thick, soot-laden streets of London. But Darcy did not have time to stop and appreciate it.
He rode to Longbourn with his mind still tangled in plans and contingencies, mentally fortifying himself for a conversation that could go any one of a hundred different directions. He had always found Mr. Bennet to be an intelligent, if maddening, conversationalist. Unlike most country gentlemen, Bennet had a sharp mind and a sharp tongue, and while he rarely left his estate, he was well-informed, well-read, and, above all, amused by nearly everything.
Including, most often, Darcy himself.
Darcy reined in his hired horse at the entrance to the modest but well-kept estate. He barely had time to dismount before a servant greeted him at the door, looking mildly surprised at the unannounced visitor. Darcy had called at Longbourn before, but never unexpectedly, and never alone.
The servant led him through the hall and into Bennet’s study, where the master of the house sat comfortably ensconced in his chair, surrounded by books and papers, a glass of brandy within easy reach.
Mr. Bennet looked up from his reading, his spectacles sliding ever so slightly down the bridge of his nose as he took in the sight before him. He blinked, then slowly closed his book with a measured deliberation, tapping the cover lightly with his fingers.
“Mr. Darcy,” he said at last, with all the enthusiasm of a man remarking on the arrival of a particularly unusual species of bird in his garden. “Well, well. What an… unexpected pleasure. I thought you had gone back to London suddenly.”
Darcy bowed briefly. “A simple matter, quickly resolved, sir.”
Bennet did not immediately offer him a seat. Instead, he simply sat there, his expression one of idle curiosity, as though determining whether Darcy’s presence was the result of some strange celestial accident.
After a long pause, he sighed, gesturing vaguely toward the chair opposite his own. “Well, do sit down, sir. You are making the room look unbalanced.”
Darcy took the offered seat, adjusting his coat as he did so. “Thank you.”
Bennet regarded him with his usual air of mild amusement. “I presume you are not here to check my King’s Gambit from our last match? If so, I warn you, I shall take it as a grievous insult to my honor.”
Darcy grunted a negative. It had been some time since their last game of chess, but clearly, Bennet had not forgot.
“I am afraid I am not here for chess, Mr. Bennet,” he said. “I have a rather curious proposition to put before you.”
Bennet leaned back, swirling his brandy. “Oh, how delightful. It is not every day a man receives a proposition from Fitzwilliam Darcy. Tell me, is it legal?”
Darcy’s jaw tightened ever so slightly. “That depends on who knows about it.”
Mr. Bennet’s grin widened.
Darcy took a slow breath.Patience.
“I require a place of safety for a young lady,” he said carefully. “A respectable household where she can remain undisturbed while certain matters are… sorted out.”
Bennet’s brows lifted. “A young lady? My dear fellow, if you have ruined someone, I am afraid my household is quite full. You must do the honorable thing and offer for her at once.”
Darcy gritted his teeth. “She is not my mistress.”
Bennet chuckled. “Ah. So she is someone else’s mistress, then. My dear sir, I am flattered, but I really must decline.”
Darcy’s hands clenched over his knees. “Mr. Bennet,” he said, voice perfectly level, “the lady in question is quite respectable, and in some… straits, not of her own making. She requires temporary lodging under an assumed name. I am prepared to compensate you for your trouble.”
Bennet tilted his head, considering. “I am to take in an unknown young woman, under a false identity, for an unspecified length of time, with only your vague assurances of decency and payment?”
“…Yes.”
Bennet took a sip of brandy. “Well. You are in luck, sir. My wife and daughters are in Meryton at present, so we shall have no one listening from the hall. Now, tell me—who is this mysterious young woman, and what kind of trouble does she bring to my door?”
Darcy hesitated. He could not tell Bennet the full truth.
He could not mention the Prince, the Home Office, or that this was a matter of national importance.
So he chose his words carefully.
