Page 148 of A Debt Inherited

A chuckle came through the wall. She allowed herself a brief smile.

“Does he know where I am?”

Something rubbed the plaster. “Not yet.”

She closed her eyes. “Then he is suffering twice.”

“Please, Miss Bennet,” he said. “Take heart.”

Footsteps sounded outside the door.

“Speak no further,” Mr Darcy said, his voice quite low.

The door beyond the wall struck open. Elizabeth drew back.

“Good morning, Darcy,” Mr Wickham said. His voice attempted cheer and found spite instead. “Your Mr Harding is a tedious fellow.”

“Then he is doing his duty,” Mr Darcy replied.

A chair-leg scraped hard against the boards. “Sit.”

“You do not need a pistol,” Mr Darcy said.

“It is merely a tool of our insistence,” Mr Kerr said.

Elizabeth did not breathe until Mr Darcy spoke again.

“There,” Mr Wickham said. “That should do it.”

“I am firmly secured,” Mr Darcy said. “Now, conduct your business.”

Elizabeth expelled a quiet breath.

A chair scraped. Mr Kerr’s step followed, slower than Mr Wickham’s, and stopped near the table.

“The letter has been delivered,” Mr Kerr said.

“To one of Harding’s clerks,” Mr Wickham said, bitterness roughening his voice. “Who had the insolence to say nothing could be done without Mr Harding’s examination.”

“Then you chose the correct office,” Mr Darcy replied.

“One that has given me nothing,” Mr Wickham said. “Ten thousand pounds is not conjured by politeness. We require another letter.”

“After you see to Miss Bennet’s needs,” Mr Darcy said.

Elizabeth gripped her skirts.

Mr Wickham laughed. “Still issuing commands from a chair?”

“Still understanding your interest better than you do.”

“My interest?”

“She must be presentable when payment is required.”

A silence followed.

Mr Kerr said, “See to her.”