Page 1 of In Want of a Suspect

One

In Which Miss Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy Get Caught Out in the Rain

“IT’S TIME YOU ACKNOWLEDGEthe truth.”

The words reached Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s ears as she was striding with determination down an unfamiliar London street, causing her to falter—but only for a moment. She squared her shoulders and kept pushing forward. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she called over her shoulder, but refused to turn around.

“Lizzie.”

She stopped, causing the few pedestrians around to skirt her. The neighborhood was working-class, and consisted of packed flats, shops, and storehouses. The damp spring air was crisp and carried the scent of the docks, not far off. It was, in short, not the type of neighborhood a respectable young lady might linger in. Lizzie turned and looked at her companion, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, who lagged behind with mud-coated boots and his usual serious expression.

“Lizzie.” He repeated her name with a small amount of exasperation. “It’s all right to admit that you’re lost.”

“I know that,” she said, making sure to keep a bright smile on her face. “But I’m not, so why would I?”

Darcy sighed. “What street are we on?”

“What does it matter?” she asked. “We’re headed in the right direction.”

“Yes, but do you know how to get home?”

She shot him a reproving look. “Of course I know how to get home, Darcy. Do you?”

“No,” he admitted. “That’s rather the point.”

“Well, then, you better stick close to me.”

Darcy grumbled under his breath but took her arm and allowed himself to be led on. Lizzie bit back a smile. One of the reasons she liked Darcy well enough to keep him around was that unlike most young gentlemen she was acquainted with, Darcy did not engage in the tiresome business of always acting like he was the only one who could possibly be right about something.

“We should have taken my carriage,” he added.

That did not mean, however, that he held back when asserting his opinion.

“On these narrow streets?” Lizzie asked, indicating the one they were currently traversing. It was crowded with pushcarts and buckets, children playing and women lingering on stoops. “It wouldn’t fit! Besides, it’s a wonderful day for a good stroll.”

Darcy snorted, a most ungentlemanly sound, and glanced pointedly up at the deep gray sky. Not that this was anythingnew—the skies were gray half the year. But—and Lizzie wasn’t about to admit this to Darcy—the skies to the east had gotten particularly dark, and there was a charged sense to the air that told her on this one point, Darcy was correct.

“You would go walking in a downpour,” he muttered, but there was a fondness in his voice, too.

“So would you, if you’d spent the last week indoors, bent over briefs! I swear, it was as though all the courts did this week was produce the most inscrutable paperwork imaginable for my own personal punishment.”

“They’re testing you,” Darcy said. “They don’t like the fact that your father recognizes you as a solicitor, and therefore expects the courts to do so as well.”

“I know,” Lizzie said, but she was unable to keep from sounding peeved. “And they can keep trying to trip me up, but I am one step ahead of them.”

Despite her bravado, Lizzie didn’t always feel quite so confident. She hadn’t admitted to Darcy that she’d needed her father’s help on two of the cases, and she’d misfiled one of her responses to a patent case that had nearly cost her client everything he owned. Only her father—and his influence—had kept the case from completely unraveling.

Even though she didn’t tell Darcy these things, he seemed to understand her inner turmoil, for he squeezed her arm gently and said, “Naturally. I have no doubt that you shall show them your mettle. I do, however, have doubts as to your sense of direction.”

They had come upon an intersection, and despite her confidence up until this moment in navigating their way, Lizzie had hesitated ever so slightly. Darcy, being attuned to her movement, had certainly noticed. “I’m not lost,” she repeated as she looked left, then right.

“Lizzie,” he said with a sigh. “If we need—”

“This way!”

She made the impulsive decision to turn left, dragging him along with her.

“Do not think I am unsupportive of your more unusual business practices,” Darcy said, allowing himself to be led. “But I have to wonder, if this Mr. Mullins truly wanted to engage your services, wouldn’t he come to Longbourn rather than have you wandering through unfamiliar dockside neighborhoods?”