Page 102 of A Matter of Murder

“Who?” Sally asked. “Who could possibly know about the treasure?”

Lizzie didn’t have any answers, but something else struck her just then. “You said you took a coach here?” she asked the other ladies.

“Yes,” Miss Jeffries said. “Why—”

“Where’s Darcy?” Lizzie asked. “I need to speak to him. If you’ve managed to find us in just a handful of days, then no doubt Lady Catherine isn’t far behind.”

“Who’s Lady Catherine?” Sally asked. “Has she stolen the diamonds?”

“I’ll ring for Charleston,” Georgiana said. “He has to have found him by now.”

It was but a few minutes before the butler returned, looking mildly frazzled. “I’m sorry, Miss Darcy. I’ve been unable to locate your brother.”

“What? But where is he?”

“I don’t know,” he said carefully. “No one has seen him.”

Unease pricked at Lizzie. “What do you mean, no one has seen him? Did he leave the estate?”

“He didn’t pass through the gate this morning,” Travers said.

Alarm began to settle in Lizzie’s bones, and judging by Georgiana’s expression, she was worried as well. “Would he have left by any other route?”

“There’s a gate that remains locked,” Georgiana said. “On the north side of the estate. But it’s too narrow for a horse. If he went that way, it would be on foot... but he doesn’t leave the estate on foot, ever. We’re too far from anything else.”

“When was the last time anyone saw him?” Lizzie asked the butler. “At breakfast?”

“Mr. Darcy didn’t come down for breakfast.”

Fear clawed its way through Lizzie’s stomach. He wouldn’t leave her, wouldn’t leave Georgiana. Perhaps there was some reasonable explanation.

“Don’t panic,” Charlotte said, taking her arm. “We’ll find him.”

In short order, a small army of servants was dispatched to try to locate Darcy. It was reported that his bedchamber was empty and the bedclothes undisturbed. His horse was still inthe stables, and none of the gardeners nor grooms had seen him leave. Panic was settling in, and Lizzie didn’t know what to do.

Where was he?

In the midst of the worried bustle, Mrs. Reynolds approached her, something small and ivory colored in her hand. “Excuse me, Miss Bennet, but I found this on the hall table.”

Charlotte and Georgiana gathered around her as she held out her hand. It was a small note on creamy linen paper. Lizzie’s heart nearly stopped, and she took it from the housekeeper with numb, trembling fingers. She couldn’t help but think of Lady Catherine and every taunting threat the lady had put to paper. Was this yet another one?

But then she saw the handwriting on the note, and she let out a gasp of relief. “It’s Darcy’s hand,” she said, eagerly unfolding it.

My dearest Elizabeth, it read.Meet me in the grotto as soon as you get this. I have something I must ask you. Yours, Fitzwilliam Darcy.

“Oh!” Georgiana squeaked. “The grotto—this makes sense!”

“What’s the grotto?” Lizzie asked, perplexed.

“It’s on the edge of the woods—I pointed it out this morning, remember? It’s one of Darcy’s favorite places. You ought to go.”

“All right,” Lizzie said, looking at Charlotte, baffled.

“Alone!” Georgiana added.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, and Lizzie felt her heart race. Alone? Why on earth did Darcy want her to meet him in a grotto, and why did Georgiana think she ought to go alone... oh. Lizzie bit her lip. Really, Darcy? Now was not the time!

“I’ll go fetch him,” Lizzie said. “Can you watch Guy for me?”