Page 120 of A Debt Inherited

The amusement left him.

“Come here.”

James stepped closer and held out a folded note. “From Mr Darcy, sir. Into your own hand.”

Fitzwilliam took it. No crest. Darcy had sealed it plain.

That was answer enough to several questions.

He broke the wax and read.

R,

A debt of honour calls me to Hertfordshire. I go to Mr Bennet of Longbourn at once. Come if you can catch me, and be ready if you cannot.

D

The table had gone still. Harrow pretended not to watch. Brice failed entirely.

Fitzwilliam read the note once, then folded it into his glove.

“When did you leave Darcy House?”

“Near twenty minutes past nine, sir.”

“Had he gone when you left?”

“No, sir. The carriage was being brought round.”

Fitzwilliam stood.

Brice rose halfway out of habit, then thought better of it. Harrow looked from James to Fitzwilliam and found no invitation to speak.

“Can I catch him?”

James swallowed. “If you are quick, sir. He said within the hour, but Barty was feeding the Hertfordshire lad before putting him atop the carriage. That may cost a few minutes.”

Fitzwilliam pushed back his chair.

“Find my horse.”

James blinked. “Sir?”

“Not you.” Fitzwilliam spotted his groom near the walk and gestured sharply. “Perseus. Now.”

The man started as if struck and hurried off. Two officers in the next box turned their heads, saw Fitzwilliam’s face, and discovered urgent interest in their plates.

Fitzwilliam looked at James. “You rode here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then ride back and tell Barty I follow. If my cousin has not left, he is to wait ten minutes and no more.”

“Yes, sir.”

James bowed and went at once.

Fitzwilliam took up his hat. Harrow found his voice too late.