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It was made of ivory silk with a lace overlay for the skirt. The lace was embroidered with a tiny geometric pattern in the same color as the satin. The gown was complemented by a long robe of evening primrose crape that fastened below her breast. Large, colorful flowers were embroidered along the hem. She reached out to touch it. “Oh, Aunt,” she said quietly. “Would not uncle be offended were I to wear this when it is so obviously a special gift from him?”
Aunt Gardiner huffed. “If only it were, dear. This was meant to impress a potential investor and so it did. The fact that your uncle loved seeing me in it does not mean that he had any other inclination. He might even have complained about the cost were he not a little afraid of my response.”
Elizabeth laughed in disbelief. “He would not. He adores you, Aunt Gardiner.”
“Oh, well, I suppose that is true,” her aunt replied slyly. “I might like him a little as well.” She rang for her maid. “But you will take the dress and no excuses. I will not send you to be wed to a Darcy of Pemberley in a morning dress, and your uncle will be delighted that it is being worn for such an auspicious occasion. He does like to get his penny’s worth.”
Darcy watched Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth remove from the study, their heads bent together as they whispered to one another. It pleased him to observe how much the Gardiners cared for her.
He was duly impressed by the behavior of Elizabeth’s family. The story to which they had been subjected was fantastical, yet there had been no outraged protests, no interruptions, no weeping or calls for salts. Although she had finally given way to tears today after a week of nearly constant strain, he saw hints of Elizabeth’s practiced composure in that of her relations.
Mr. Gardiner had questions. Many of them. After he had been satisfied as to the men’s treatment of Elizabeth, he finally asked, “What reason would these men have to trespass upon your home? I cannot fathom what they might hope to gain.”
“I am afraid we are not certain either,” Darcy admitted. “Elizabeth heard the man say that they recognized Anders, so they knew it was my carriage that had stopped. They did not follow us to town immediately, however.”
“Waiting for additional instructions, perhaps,” Mr. Gardiner replied.
“At first, they were waiting for some sign that Miss Elizabeth was not in the river. When she was not, I suspect they worked out that she was in my home,” Darcy said. “But there would have been no sign of her. We concealed her presence even from most of the staff. Evidently, they could wait no longer.”
“They tipped the coal wagon as a diversion and stole inside,” Fitz mused.
Mr. Gardiner’s brows pinched together. “Do you think they created the diversion or simply took advantage of an accident?”
Darcy shook his head. “Does it matter? All it would require was a glance in the mews to realize two horses were gone, but they would not have known how long we would be gone. When they spied the wagon, they took their opportunity.”
“But why?” Mr. Gardiner asked, returning to his initial query. “This is all rather poorly planned. It is not as though they could carry Elizabeth away without being noticed.”
“They did just that at Longbourn,” Fitz reminded them.
Darcy felt his stomach turn to ice at the words, but he and Fitz felt the same—whoever had been hounding him and threatening Elizabeth had been biding their time and waiting for their chance. He hated to think it, but had they been better organized, better prepared, he and Fitz may never have had a chance to get their feet under them. “We dismissed Howard when we discussed him, but Bingley says he owes the man money and Miss Bingley says he was invited to the ball. I also believe that Wickham knows more than he told us.”
“By the by,” Mr. Gardiner asked curiously, “how did Mr. Wickham recognize Mr. Darcy’s button? Or was that another prevarication on his part?”
Darcy shrugged. “They originally belonged to my grandfather. My father used them on his own jackets. Wickham would have seen them any number of times over the years.”
“You are not bothered that one was taken?” Elizabeth’s uncle asked.
“They are not sentimental items, Mr. Gardiner,” Darcy informed him. “They are only buttons.”
Fitz sat back in his chair. “We know the substance of Wickham’s grievance. Perhaps we should hear the details of your quarrel with Howard, Darce. There must be some reason for all of this and if he is the man, he could easily hire others to do the job.”
Darcy nodded. “It was about nine months ago, I think. Before my annual visit to Rosings.” He turned to Mr. Gardiner.
“Howard approached me at the club, and he asked that I attend him the following day. When I did, he was not prepared to take no for an answer.”
Mr. Gardiner frowned. “I do not understand.”
Darcy grimaced. “He had a younger sister who needed to be married rather quickly.”
“Ah,” Mr. Gardiner replied, and settled into his chair. “Proceed.”
Fitz grinned at the nonchalant command, and Darcy frowned at him. “I politely declined.”
“Exact words, Darcy?” Fitz prompted.
He thought back to the conversation which had shocked him so completely. “I believe I said something like, ‘I am sorry for your predicament, but your sister is your concern. I have my own to consider and no inclination to marry at present.’” He frowned. “Howard would not relent, and eventually, I said that there were certain expectations for any Mrs. Darcy that his sister obviously could not meet.”
Mr. Gardiner tipped his head slightly to one side.
