Jane shook her head. “No. Nor have my sisters.” A slight sigh. “Papa must have known he was coming, but he said nothing to Mama.”
Elizabeth winced. “I imagine that was a strategic choice.”
Jane pressed her lips together, her blue eyes holding a tinge of sympathy. “Mama will set up a real fuss now.”
Elizabeth sighed.
Then Jane’s expression shifted. Her brow pinched slightly. “Oh dear.”
Elizabeth arched a brow. “What?”
Jane’s gaze flickered toward the house, then back to Elizabeth. “Where is he to stay?”
Elizabeth hesitated. The thought had not even occurred to her. There were always rooms. Spare chambers, guest apartments, places tucked away for when company arrived. At Ashwick’s London residence, Elizabeth had never once needed to consider the logistics of accommodating a visitor.
She turned her gaze toward Longbourn.
Jane cleared her throat softly. “It… might become necessary for us to share.”
Elizabeth blinked.
Then, turning back to Mr. Collins—who was presently bowing a second time to Mr. Bennet—she smiled faintly.
“I can think of worse fates,” she murmured.
Jane laughed softly.
And just like that, she—Lady Elizabeth Montclair, who had never had to share anything in her life—was to have a roommate.
Chapter Fifteen
Darcywasaccustomedtowaiting. His entire life had been a careful exercise in patience, in restraint, in knowing when to act and when to observe.
But tonight, he had the distinct and unwelcome sensation that he was already too late.
The boy shifted on his feet, glancing around the dimly lit alley as though expecting someone to drag him back to the Ashwick household at any moment. He was young—ten at most—with a nervous energy that did not suit his somewhat husky frame. He smelled of hay and horses, and his cap was pulled low over his forehead.
Darcy did not waste time on pleasantries. “Are you sure of this, Kenny?”
The boy swallowed with an anxious nod. “She’s gone, sir. Alice.”
“When?”
“Ain’t sure, exactly. No one is. One day she was there, next she weren’t.” He sniffed, rubbing a sleeve over his nose. “Mrs. Graves—the housekeeper—she was in a right temper over it. Told the other maids Alice ran off with a man.” His mouth twisted skeptically. “But no one ever heard Alice talk of no sweethearts before. Not even once.”
Darcy inhaled slowly. A chambermaid running off with a lover would hardly make a ripple in a great house like Ashwick’s. But this? This was not an elopement.
Alice had been Lady Elizabeth’s personal maid. She had dressed her, attended her, known her habits. If anyone had guessed that Elizabeth was not on a pleasure tour with the Queen’s ladies…
“She never took her things,” the boy added. “Clothes, bonnet, all still there. They’re sayin’ she left in a hurry. Like ‘nough ’cause of that fire in the house.”
Left in hurry. Or under duress.
Darcy exhaled sharply and reached into his pocket, pressing a few coins into the boy’s hand. The stable lad looked at them wide-eyed.
“If you hear anything else,” Darcy said, “I expect to be informed.”
The boy nodded quickly. “Aye, sir.” Then, after a pause, he whispered, “You don't think she ran off, do you?”
