Page 153 of A Debt Inherited

“Your sister?” she said at last.

“She was sixteen.”

The silence sharpened.

“Then I withdraw every charitable thought I had not yet entirely dismissed.”

“Do not waste charity upon him.”

“And Mr Kerr?”

“He was there as well.”

“Then he knows what Mr Wickham attempted.” She took in a breath. “He was an accomplice?”

“Though he denied it, he was.”

A faint shift came through the plaster. She had come nearer.

“Were you alone?”

“No,” Darcy said. “He saw Colonel Fitzwilliam. He cannot mistake the connexion.”

“And yet, Mr Wickham brought you here.”

Darcy looked towards the door. No step sounded beyond it.

“Kerr’s grievance is stronger than his judgement.”

“And Mr Wickham’s?”

“His vanity.”

She breathed once, slowly. “Then Ramsgate gave them both something. Mr Wickham a humiliation. Mr Kerr a measure of your family.”

Darcy turned his face nearer the plaster. “Yes.”

“And Colonel Fitzwilliam will remember him.”

“He forgets very little.”

Three soft knocks came through the wall.

“Miss Bennet?”

He heard a muffled breath.

“Miss Bennet?” he asked, louder now.

“They have taken me because they do not fear my father as they fear Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

Darcy had no answer swift enough to spare her.

On the other side of the wall, Miss Bennet drew one careful breath.

“I had hoped,” she said, “to be wrong.”

Darcy flexed his hands. “Your father is not without friends.”