Page 103 of A Matter of Murder

“Of course,” Charlotte said, wearing a knowing smile. Lizzie wanted to roll her eyes but managed not to. “I’ll tell them we can all call off the search as well.”

“I’ll show you where to go,” Georgiana said, pulling on Lizzie’s hand.

Lizzie allowed herself to be led out of the house and through the gardens. Georgiana was giddy, so clearly she understood what was about to happen. Lizzie found herself unable to push aside her anxiety about Clara and Sally’s revelations and her fear of Lady Catherine. She felt vaguely sick, which was not at all an ideal state when one was about to be proposed to!

The grotto was an ivy-covered, subterranean stone structure with open, glassless windows. It looked secretive and alluring from the outside, but dim. Georgiana hesitated at the top of the steps leading down into the grotto. “You should go ahead,” she said loudly. “I’ll just... walk back to the house.”

“All right,” Lizzie said. “Thank you, Georgiana.”

Her heart sped up as she made her way down the steps. Inside, the sunlight filtered in through greenery and the tall narrow windows set near the ceiling. Every surface was textured with the most enchanting designs of seashells, and under different circumstances Lizzie would have lingered and exclaimed over the craftsmanship.

“Darcy?” she called out, expecting him to materialize around a pillar.

But she heard nothing—no footsteps, no voice greeting her. “I would have expected a few candles at least,” she muttered.

Then Lizzie heard a muffled grunt. She took three more steps forward, and as her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she saw something in the darkest far corner of the grotto. A figure, seated on the floor.

It was Darcy.

His hands and feet were bound, and he was awkwardly slumped against the rough-hewn wall. Dried blood flaked on his temple and cheek. When he spotted Lizzie, his eyes widened, and he made a sound against his gag that she could not decipher.

“Darcy!” Lizzie cried out in alarm as she ran toward him.

“Thank you for finally joining us, Miss Bennet,” a voice from behind her said. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Twenty-Five

In Which Lizzie Finally Comes Face-to-Face with Her Nemesis

Lizzie could not fathom what she was seeing.

Her mouth was so dry that she could not have swallowed even if she’d wanted to, and her heart pounded in her chest so loudly that she could scarcely hear Darcy’s muffled attempts at speech behind his gag. She stood protectively in front of Darcy.

Georgiana came running into the grotto, drawn by Lizzie’s cry, and Darcy began trying to yell again, struggling against his bindings. “Lizzie, are you—”

She abruptly broke off when she saw her brother. Lizzie found her voice just then. “Georgiana, go.”

“No, Georgiana, stay where you are,” said the tall figure in the middle of the grotto.

“But Mrs. Watts—”

“That’s not Mrs. Watts!” Lizzie said, her voice rising in fear.

The woman tutted, and Lizzie could see the gleam of thepistol in her hand. “Miss Bennet, how rude. You’re scaring the girl. As far as she is concerned, I am Mrs. Watts.”

“You also go by the name Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” Lizzie said. “I don’t suppose you have any other names?”

“None that I am inclined to share with you.”

“I don’t understand,” Georgiana said, and Lizzie realized now that the word that Darcy was trying to say behind his gag wasrun.

“This isn’t your lady’s companion,” Lizzie said, never taking her eye off the pistol held casually in Lady Catherine’s right hand. “This is Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”

“Lizzie, Mrs. Watts has been with me for months,” Georgiana said. Then she seemed to take note of the pistol. “Mrs. Watts, that’s my brother! That’s Lizzie Bennet—remember the lady I told you about—”

“She knows who I am,” Lizzie said. “Georgiana, leave.”

“No, Georgiana, stay,” Lady Catherine purred.