Page 5 of A Most Inconvenient Murder

Her lips parted with a gasp, then she pressed her fist to her mouth, hoping to cork up whatever else might escape.

They stood like that for a minute. Mr. Darcy watched her closely; hands held loosely at his sides as if ready to catch her if she swooned.

Elizabeth blinked her eyes rapidly in an effort to stem the tears pricking at her eyelids. She knew from experience that she could withstand any suffering if she did not acknowledge it aloud.

Deep breaths, Elizabeth, she told herself.

Finally, she felt confident enough to speak, “We must go. There are people at Rosings who should be informed. Lady Catherine, at the very least. A message should be sent to Willow Grange. And the… the authorities. I have never—” When her bottom lip began to tremble, she stopped herself.

“I have,” he said, “I will accompany you.”

Together, they turned down the path. Neither of them looked back.

They had only made it to the second bend when a new set of footsteps arrived, quick and careless on the gravel. The voice of Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam sounded ahead.

“Miss Bennet!” he called. “I heard— are you—?”

He emerged from the corridor of hedges, red-faced, hair disordered, one hand still gloved and the other bare.

“Darcy!” He stopped. “I tried to locate the source of the scream, but this forsaken place is a bloody labyrinth.” He hesitated and bowed slightly. “Pardon me, Miss Bennet.”

He looked from Elizabeth to Mr. Darcy, from their faces to their joined proximity, and seemed to take in the gravity of the situation at once.

He sobered, straightened, and lowered his voice. “Is there—?” He did not finish the question.

Mr. Darcy nodded. “A woman is dead. At the fountain. Miss Elizabeth found her.”

The colonel’s gaze flicked to Elizabeth. He nodded gravely. “I will just step in to survey the scene. Will you escort Miss Bennet to the parsonage, Darcy? There’s no need for her to speak to Lady Catherine.”

“There may be questions only I can answer,” Elizabeth objected at once. “I will manage, Colonel.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam regarded her with a new, startled respect. “You have the soul of a general, Miss Bennet. As you wish.”

“Of course.” Mr. Darcy offered his arm.

She hesitated when a hint of something she could not name rose in her chest.

Though it was difficult for her to put the gentleman displaying nothing but humble compassion and concern beforeher together with the arrogant, superior man she had quarreled with just last evening, hewasthe same man. The very gentleman she had refused so fiercely only a few hours before. She did not wish to take his arm, yet it was quite a distance to Rosings. After her shock, she was unsure she could carry herself the entire way without support. Besides, with Mr. Darcy present, they would most likely go in through the rear of the building, which would be a blessing.

As she took his arm, his shoulders relaxed a little.

She hoped it had not been a mistake—that such a simple gesture would not give him false hope.

As they moved off, the colonel continued further into the maze.

In the open air of the lawn, Mr. Darcy glanced sidelong at her.

She hoped he did not wish to converse just now, because she needed a few minutes of silence. She could not imagine Lady Catherine’s inquiries to be simple.

They walked on in silence, Mr. Darcy’s steps matching her own.

A while later, as they approached the rear steps of Rosings, she heard the colonel’s footfalls rapidly catching up behind them.

The windows were ablaze with reflected sunlight. The house stood as it always had, a monument to wealth, bad taste, and the certainty that Lady Catherine’s rules would always apply.

A footman opened the door at the rear entrance even before they reached it, his expression altering at the sight of their expressions.

“Send for Lady Catherine,” said Mr. Darcy with calm authority. “No alarm should be raised until we have spoken privately.”