Then Mr. Bingley cleared his throat. “Er—perhaps I ought to wait before sending out the invitations? Unless you have any suggestions for a date?”
“No need to delay on our account,” Mrs. Bennet said primly. “I apologize for my daughters’ behavior. Rest assured, Mr. Bingley, my husband and I will be very glad to attend your ball with our three eldest daughters at any time you see fit to hold it. But you must give me enough time to take the girls shopping. I daresay Jane’s ball gown requires new lace…”
Elizabeth sat frozen, astonishment rippling through her. Never in all her years had she seen her mother so composed, so… decisive. It left her feeling oddly off-balance, as though the ground beneath Longbourn had shifted ever so slightly. She exchanged a glance with Jane, who blinked, equally stunned, though a glimmer of pride danced in her eyes.
Change had come to the Bennet household, it seemed—unexpected and uninvited, but not entirely unwelcome.
And yet even as Elizabeth smiled faintly at Mr. Bingley’s cheerful scramble to recover the conversation, a shadow tugged at her thoughts. Smithson’s final words echoed in her mind like a half-remembered song.
Tell the raven… it was the crow.
“Why are they not here yet?” she muttered to herself in annoyance—although as she did so, a small part of her was relieved they had missed out on the scene caused by Kitty and Lydia.
Just as she was about to excuse herself from the room in search a way to expend her restlessness, the sound of horses announced that another guest had arrived. Bingley looked towards the window and exclaimed, “Ah, excellent—there are Darcy and Fitzwilliam now.”
Within minutes, the two gentlemen were announced. After greeting their hostess, they took seats near Elizabeth, intent on communicating with her. Elizabeth glanced at the window and, upon seeing the weather was not favorable for a walk, raised her eyebrows and said meaningfully, “I am sorry, gentlemen, that we are unable to continue our tour of the gardens today. Perhaps arrangements can be made to finish yesterday’s plans at another time.”
The colonel nodded sharply and moved to sit near Mrs. Bennet. As he settled beside her mother, she watched with amazement. With no more than a well-placed compliment and a request that she tell him more about where he was visiting, Mrs. Bennet was soon gushing about every detail of the neighborhood.
“Oh, we are very fortunate here in Hertfordshire—we dine with twenty-four families,” the matron beamed. “And my brother, Mr. Gardiner, has just purchased Stoke Estate, which includes the great house and all the tenant farms. A sound investment, though it would be better if the drawing rooms were larger. But no matter, for Lady Lucas was telling me that at Purvis Lodge…”
Elizabeth restrained a smile as she watched her mother chatter, with the colonel murmuring at the appropriate places while subtly redirecting her conversation towards each of the families in the area. It was quite clever, really— distracting her with praise while extracting every scrap of information she possessed.
A sniff from the corner of the room reminded Elizabeth that there were other observers in the room. Turning, she saw Maryhad taken refuge in said corner with a thick tome. A glance around revealed that Mr. Bennet had vanished altogether—likely into his library the moment Mrs. Bennet uttered the words “shopping” and “lace”—and Jane and Bingley were absorbed in quiet conversation on the settee.
For all intents and purposes, she and Darcy were alone.
She leaned slightly toward Darcy and spoke in a low voice. “Did you and Colonel Fitzwilliam make any progress in making a list of the suspects?”
“Yes and no,” he replied, moving his head closer to hers. “Only two are named—your uncle and Lieutenant Wickham—”
Elizabeth bristled as she cut him off. “My uncle would have been at home with my aunt that morning. At least, he arrived with her when she came to tend to me. The servants can confirm it.”
“Good,” Darcy said, his voice quiet but warm. “The colonel’s batman is skilled at such things—he will ask the questions discreetly. That should remove your uncle from suspicion.”
“But Mr. Wickham is on the list? I had thought the two of you had reconciled?”
“It is more for the odd circumstances of the situation; he was in London during the fire and here for the murder.”
“As were most members of the militia,” she pointed out.
“Precisely, which is why my cousin has arranged to speak with each member of the militia. Colonel Forster is cooperating, and he is aware of my cousin’s current role in service. It was necessary to reveal it to him in order to gain his willing participation.”
She gave a small sigh. “Which is why you said only some progress had been made. All members of the militia and all newcomers to Meryton makes for quite a long list.”
“Which is why we also paid a visit to Sir William this morning as well.”
“Surely you did not trusthimwith such sensitive information!”What on earth were they thinking?
He shook his head vehemently. “No, we told him the colonel was sent in place of a Bow Street Runner, which are conveniently all too involved with maintaining order in London.”
Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow and looked over at where Fitzwilliam was still engaging her mother in conversation about the neighborhood. “That was clever. It will allow him to move in society and ask questions without raising suspicion.” She laughed softly. “I daresay my mother will not know whether to revere him as the son of an earl or revile him if he does not immediately declare Mr. Gardiner innocent.”
That earned a soft chuckle from Darcy, and Elizabeth turned back to glance at him, only to find his gaze boring into her. The intensity in his eyes sent a flutter through her stomach, and she felt her cheeks warm.
“Forgive me,” she said quickly to mask her reaction to him, “I have not even inquired after your health. How is your cough? Has it improved at all?”
“Considerably,” Darcy replied. “The herbs you and your cousin provided have worked wonders. No more tightness in my chest, save for the occasional twinge. It is the best I have felt since the fire.”
