Page 88 of In Want of a Suspect

“Let’s just say that Bingley, while not immune to your mother’s pressure, has something a bit more romantic in mind than proposing while your mother’s ear is at the drawing room door.”

Lizzie playfully whacked his shoulder. “You should have said! Jane will be so relieved.”

“It won’t be long now,” Darcy assured her. “Make sure she acts surprised.”

“Oh, she’ll be thrilled,” Lizzie said, nestling herself back into Darcy’s arms. Their conversation had brought a brief respite, but talk of marriage had her thoughts returning to the case, to the marriage they intended to stop now. A hazy gray light was slowly seeping into the carriage. Dawn wasn’t far off.

“We have to get a confession,” Lizzie whispered. “We didn’t find a trace of graphite in the storehouse. All we have is circumstantial evidence and the testimony of a street child and a smuggler. If Hughes wiggles out of this one, he’ll flee.”

“We won’t let him escape,” Darcy said confidently. “In a few hours’ time, he’ll be arrested and you’ll see him charged.”

She hoped it was true. But there was one thing that wasbothering her: The woman that Tomlinson had spoken of at the storehouse. He said thatshehad been watching. And he had made mention of kidnapping Lizzie.

But before she could voice her questions, the carriage began to slow and Darcy sat up. They hadn’t even stopped in front of Cavendish House before Darcy flung open the door and stepped down. He held up a hand for Lizzie, who followed stiffly, and then they were racing to the front door. Darcy pulled the bell, and then began knocking frantically.

“She’s not going to want to believe me, but let me try to convince her,” he said amid his barrage of knocking. “I have the letter from her grandmother, and maybe—”

The door opened suddenly, and Darcy nearly fell into Mr. Dupont, who stood perfectly poised, although wearing a disapproving expression.

“Josette—Miss Beaufort,” Darcy said. “I need to speak with her at once.”

“You cannot,” the butler began to say, but Darcy cut him off.

“I know that I upset her yesterday, but this is a serious matter!”

“Be that as it may, sir—”

Darcy fumbled for something within his jacket pocket and produced a rather rumpled letter. “I know about Leticia,” he said. “I found the letter!”

Lizzie watched the butler’s gaze flick from Darcy’s face to the letter clenched in his hand. He seemed to be at war with himself, but the sight of the letter was shifting the tides to their side.

“Please, Mr. Dupont,” Lizzie said. “We are fearful for Josette.”

“She’s perfectly safe,” Mr. Dupont said, but he didn’t sound as though he believed it.

“The day Leticia was killed, Darcy came to inform Josette,” Lizzie said. “Mr. Hughes was already here. When did he arrive?”

“Please,” Darcy said. “I know what I said two years ago hurt her, and I’ve been very sorry ever since. But I think she might be in danger.”

Mr. Dupont looked between the two of them with understanding. “Twenty minutes, maybe,” he said. “Not long.”

Darcy let out a soft “oof” and his shoulders slumped. “We must see Josette, now!”

“She’s not here,” Mr. Dupont said. “She’s left already for the church.”

“Where?” Darcy demanded.

“Saint George’s,” Dupont said, “but—”

They didn’t waste any time. Back in the carriage they went, with Darcy calling out the address to his driver. Now that it was light, the carriage could travel much faster than it had on the journey across town, and Lizzie and Darcy spent the trip in tense silence, gripping each other’s hands. As they pulled into Hanover Square, the sound of church bells filled the morning air.

“No,” Lizzie whispered, and Darcy looked ill. The carriage drew up before the church but they were jumping down before it had fully stopped. Without speaking, they ran hand in hand toward the church doors. The steps were deserted, as there werevery few people out and about so early. Almost as if Mr. Hughes wanted no audience, no one to stop his marriage.

The great doors opened with a creak, and the interior of the church was dimly lit—so dim at first that Lizzie thought perhaps they’d gotten it wrong and no one was there. But her eyes adjusted as she Darcy ran toward the front of the church, coming upon the sight they were hoping and dreading at the same time.

Josette stood facing Mr. Hughes. A clergyman stood between them, holding the Book of Common Prayer. Josette lifted her hands to take Mr. Hughes’, and...

“Stop!”