Page 26 of In Want of a Suspect
“Oh?” Lizzie asked. Mrs. Bennet had two chief tasks in life. One was securing matches for her five daughters, and the other was obtaining gossip. Her encyclopedic knowledge of the ton was, Lizzie had to admit, at times quite useful.
“It was an age ago. I haven’t heard anyone speak of it in a very long time. And now I can’t quite remember, but there was definitely a rushed marriage? Oh, something to that effect.”
“Do you remember the circumstances?” Lizzie asked, torn between wanting to question her mother further and hoping that this long-ago scandal wouldn’t foil her plans.
“Oh, Lizzie! I don’t know. I’m a very busy person, you know. Do you think it is easy, seeing to a household and being the mother of five daughters? There is no end to my troubles.” She paused, and Lizzie waited with bated breath. “You and Jane may go anyway. But, Lizzie? Make sure that Mr. Darcy comes to dinner!”
Lizzie and Jane made quite the spectacle when they arrived at the offices of Pemberley & Associates with Guy in tow. It had not been easy to wrestle control of Guy from Lydia and Kitty, and Lizzie had insisted they stop at the market and purchase a more dignified leash for him so she didn’t have to pull the poor dog around by the fraying rope.
Guy’s nails clicked on the shining marble of the Pemberleyfoyer and Jane whispered, “I should have stayed outside with him.”
“Nonsense. He’s being the perfect gentleman.” This was perhaps wishful thinking on her part as Guy began to strain at his leash, sniffing about the lobby with the urgency of a hunting hound on a scent. “Guy, no!”
Lizzie recognized the clerk behind the front desk—Mr. Reeves. His eyes widened at the sight of Guy. “Miss, I don’t think dogs are allowed in here,” he whispered.
“We won’t be staying long,” she promised. “Mr. Darcy, please.”
“I’ll fetch him,” Mr. Reeves said, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder.
“I know where his office—”
“No, really, miss. It’s best if you wait.” The clerk winced in what seemed an apologetic manner and scurried off.
Jane gave her a quizzical look, and Lizzie shrugged. But a vague sense of unease took over, and Lizzie tried to peer after the clerk, down the hall that led to the desks and offices. The hall was stately and subdued, with only the weak murmur of voices in the distance. There were no other clients waiting to be seen, but there was a peculiar tension in the building that Lizzie couldn’t put her finger on.
They didn’t have to wait long before the clerk slinked back in sight, looking extremely nervous. “A moment, miss,” he said, retaking his seat. He cast another glance at Guy, whom Lizzie had managed to coax into a sitting position.
“Is everything all right?” Lizzie asked.
“Of course,” he replied, but he didn’t meet her eye. She frowned. This wasn’t at all like him—usually she asked about his wife, and he told her about the antics of their small daughter, Julia.
Something strange was afoot, but before Lizzie could dwell on it any further, Mr. Tomlinson appeared. Lizzie sighed but plastered on a polite smile as the man approached. He matched her expression with an overly courteous look of his own that Lizzie didn’t trust one bit.
“Miss Bennet,” he said, inclining his head slightly to her. He glanced at Jane but didn’t acknowledge her. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“I’m here to see Mr. Darcy,” Lizzie said.
Mr. Tomlinson still wore that fake, overly solicitous smile. “I’m afraid you’ve called in the middle of the workday, Miss Bennet. This is a place of business.”
Ah, so it would be like that then? “I am here on business.”
“Pemberley business?” Mr. Tomlinson inquired.
“Legal business. Now, if you don’t mind, Mr. Darcy is expecting me—”
Beside Lizzie, she felt rather than heard a low grumble. She paid it no mind.
Mr. Tomlinson held firm. “I’m afraid you and your companion must go now, Miss Bennet.”
He stepped around the front desk as if to personally escort Lizzie to the door, and a furious barking exploded out of Guy. Hestood to attention and placed himself between Lizzie and Jane and Mr. Tomlinson, releasing a surprisingly high-pitched yap.
Mr. Tomlinson seemed as shocked as Lizzie at the sudden outburst. “What is that animal doing inside my office?” he thundered.
Lizzie was annoyed at Mr. Tomlinson but mortified by Guy’s display. “Guy! Hush! Quiet! Stop that right now!”
Poor Jane had her mouth covered in horror, but she was no help. Guy was undeterred by Lizzie’s admonishments and stood his ground. Mr. Tomlinson took a step closer, and the dog added a few growls. “Honestly!” Lizzie declared and leaned down to pick up the dog.
He stopped barking then, twisting in Lizzie’s arms as if to reassure himself that she was all right. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”