Page 60 of Mr. Darcy and the Mysterious "Miss B"
“But what if it was neither of them?” Darcy said suddenly. “What if someone else entirely orchestrated this?”
Elizabeth looked startled. “Who else would have both motive and opportunity?”
“I cannot say. But the more I consider it, the more deliberate it seems. The timing, the specific details, the way it escalated so quickly… someone planned this very carefully. Someone who wanted to see me trapped in an unwanted marriage.”
“The thought is rather frightening. To think someone harbours such ill will towards you.”
“Indeed. And it suggests this person knows me well enough to craft the perfect trap. They understood that forcing me into marriage with Caroline would be a particularly cruel punishment.”
They continued their walk, both lost in increasingly troubling thoughts about who might wish Darcy such harm.
As they reached the Gardiners’ house, Darcy helped Elizabeth from the carriage and walked her to the door. Through the front window, he could see figures moving about in the sitting room—Mrs Bennet’s distinctive silhouette, and beside her, Lydia.
He raised his hand in a polite wave. Mrs Bennet waved back enthusiastically, but Lydia disappeared from view the moment she spotted him.
“I see your sister remains displeased with our attachment,” Darcy observed.
“That is true. The sooner we can speak to her, the better. I wanted to tell her the truth, but my mother is against it.”
“We ought to speak to her together. The Gardiners invited me to dinner on Saturday, I shall seek to speak to Miss Lydia afterward. And I will speak with Caroline when I return home. The Bingleys are preparing to move back to their own residence now that their house has been repaired.”
“Very well. Though I confess myself dreading what we might discover.”
Darcy took her hand briefly. “Whatever we learn, we shall face it together.”
As Elizabeth disappeared into the house, Darcy began the walk back to his own residence. The afternoon was pleasant, and he was in no hurry to return home. Instead, he took the longer route, allowing his thoughts to wander.
When had Elizabeth Bennet become so essential to his peace of mind? He found he missed her when she was not present, missed her quick wit and challenging observations. Even their business meetings had become the highlight of his days.
He paused before an art dealer’s shop, and decided to take a look inside the premises, his brief discussion of art with Elizabeth still in his mind. A landscape of the Lake District caught his attention—rolling hills and serene waters that reminded him of Pemberley. He wished Elizabeth were there to discuss it with him. Would she appreciate the artist’suse of light? Would she find the composition pleasing or too conventional?
The realisation struck him with uncomfortable force: he was thinking of Elizabeth not as a temporary fiancée or business partner, but as someone whose opinions mattered to him personally. Someone he wanted to share things with.
This was dangerous territory indeed.
***
Upon entering into his house, he found the Bingley and Hurst party about to set off. Bingley was busy talking to the coachman and the Hursts were presently finishing their last walk through the house to ensure nothing had been forgotten.
Caroline, meanwhile, sat on a chair by the door.
“We shall be quite out of your hair very soon,” she said.
“Right. Actually, might I have a word with you, Caroline? Before you depart?”
Caroline’s expression flickered with something that might have been hope. “Of course.”
They moved to the morning room whilst the others waited outside. Caroline stood by the window, her hands clasped before her, looking smaller and more vulnerable than he had seen her in months.
“I must ask you something directly,” Darcy began without preamble. “Did you place those notices in the scandal sheets? The ones about Miss B?”
Caroline’s face went very pale, then flushed with indignation. “How dare you suggest such a thing!”
“Caroline—”
“No!” Her voice rose, eyes flashing with genuine outrage. “How dare you think so little of me? Do you truly believe I would lower myself to such… such base manipulation? That I would want to marry any man who was forced to the altar through scandal?”
Darcy was taken aback by the vehemence of her response. “I merely thought—”
