Page 86 of In Want of a Suspect
But then something came to her.
“Wait! I have one question. You said the day of the fire, one of the crates was open and that day it was brandy. But when you first looked into the crates, and it wasn’t broadcloth—what was it?”
She expected him to say brandy, or silks. But Jack shook his head, as if he were disgusted by the memory of it even now. “It was rocks, Lizzie. Black rocks! Brandy I could understand, silks we could fence—but rocks! What is the sense in that?”
“I knew it!” Lizzie turned to the Dashwoods triumphantly. “Mr. Hughes is connected!
Beside the sisters, Darcy had gone pale. “Lizzie, we have to hurry.”
“We ought to call the Runners,” she agreed. “They’ll want to apprehend him, and I’m sure the Crown will have something to say about his smuggling. Perhaps they suspected all along and just didn’t have sufficient—”
“No, Lizzie—we have to go.”
“Why?”
“Because Josette is marrying Mr. Hughes at dawn.”
Nineteen
In Which a Darkened Carriage Incites an Illuminating Conversation
THIS TIME, DARCY BROUGHThis carriage.
“I don’t want this to go to your head, because it’s ostentatious, generally inconvenient, and it deprives one of the joys of a good walk,” Lizzie said as they climbed in, “but I am glad you brought this rig.”
“How magnanimous of you to admit it,” Darcy said, settling into the seat across from her. “Are you all right, truly?”
“A bit sore,” she admitted. It was too dark for her to see him, the only light coming from the lantern from the driver’s perch. But she sensed his tension, so naturally she decided to tease him further. “But very pleased to see you.”
“I’m glad you appreciate the convenience of the carriage,” he said. “I went all the way home for it when I heard that you planned to come here. I thought it would be more convenient. Then, of course, I couldn’t find you at Longbourn and so I wentto the Dashwoods’ shop, only to discover Farrows and Brandon, about to come out of their skin with worry.”
“Is that your way of telling me that you were scared for my safety?”
“No, I’ll simply admit it—I was deathly afraid for you.”
“Oh,” she said. He sounded angry.
“We all were terrified,” Darcy continued. “At first, we all wanted to go to your respective homes and stop you from sneaking out, but then Brandon pointed out that Marianne would never forgive him.”
“Probably true,” Lizzie said.
“And that got me thinking that if I went to your home and told your father what you were planning on doing, you’d be furious with me.”
He seemed to pause, waiting for a reaction. “True,” she acknowledged.
“And when I really thought about it, I realized it wasn’t just that I didn’t want you to be furious with me—although you are very scary when you’re mad—but I didn’t want to stand in your way.”
Now he sounded less mad, and more helpless.
“But?” Lizzie asked. “I’m sensing there is a but somewhere in here.”
He sighed heavily. “But... you didn’t wait for me. And I understand why, but... Lizzie, if you’re going to break the law, which I greatly disapprove of, by the way... well, at the very least I’d like to be your accomplice.”
Oh.
Lizzie wished now she could see his face, but since that wasn’t possible, she pushed herself to her feet, swaying a bit. “Move over,” she said, squeezing in next to him.
Darcy’s arms came around her and she melted into his touch, even as the carriage jostled all her bruises. Darcy’s lips brushed her temple, and she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and sink into his embrace.