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The news from London was heartening indeed, and she poured herself a celebratory glass of port.

By tomorrow, Elizabeth Bennet’s name would be on everyone’s lips as the mistress of one of the most notorious libertines in England.

She shuddered delicately at the thought of the viscount, with whom she was slightly acquainted.

He was known to change his mistresses as quickly as they lost their initial bloom.

She wondered how soon the upstart would find herself in a shabby room in Drury Lane.

She scribbled a note and rang for the footman.

It was time to activate Collins again, always easier after a good dinner.

She would urge him to get an early start for Longbourn on the morrow.

Morning prayers were at seven, and if he left immediately afterward in one of her carriages, he could be there by mid-afternoon.

It would be most gratifying indeed to have him deliver to the Bennets the news of their downfall and the loss of their daughter—and then to spread the news through half of Hertfordshire.

As she had said before, who indeed would connect themselves to such a family.

The difficulty in Bath would have to be watched carefully and reckoned with.

Since there were, as far as she knew, no eyewitnesses to the Bennet abduction, it would be impossible to tie the two crimes together.

It was tempting just to allow them to be caught and let them hang for the murder.

She laid the thought aside as requiring more consideration.

For now, she would celebrate. By next week she would be welcoming her poor nephew to the autumnal consolations and beauty of Rosings Park.

Fitzwilliam Darcy found himself pacing his library like a tiger.

The temptation to walk down the street and around the corner of Audley Street was almost overwhelming.

Of course, to do so would be foolhardy in view of the fact that there were no plans in place as yet.

His job this afternoon consisted of patient waiting, something he had never had a talent for.

His mind conjured up visions of Elizabeth cold or hungry or frightened—or worse, in the power of someone incredibly vicious.

He regarded himself as a rational man, but these imaginings were beyond the scope of mere reason.

He threw himself back into his chair and took from his pocket the letter Elizabeth had given him on their last morning together, the only letter he had ever received from her.

It was a simple note, containing a shy declaration of her love for him, her bright hopes for the future, her happiness that he could love her.

He had memorized it, but the feel of it in his hands was comforting to him.

He looked at the fire and conjured up visions of her face.

He told himself that they might be together again very soon.

The thought comforted him, and he fell into an exhausted slumber.

He was awakened at five o’clock by Sergeant Parker, and Mr. Gardiner arrived a few minutes later.

As the three men settled in, he made his announcement.

“Bingley’s brother-in-law, Mr. Hurst, has entrance to the club in Audley Street.

He enjoys cards, and he told me today that he indulges occasionally in an evening of deep play, subject to the limits of his purse.

Parker, he shares your impression and opinion of the other activities available at the establishment, but he has placed himself entirely at our service.

He will be dining with us at six, and he is ready to go into the club this evening, should we arrive at that decision. ”

“Excellent,” said Mr. Gardiner. “I was beginning to wonder how we would ever get in there without involving the authorities and risking Elizabeth’s good name.”

“I am assuming that Miss Bennet and Mr. Hurst are known to each other,” said Parker .

“They are well known to each other, having been guests in the same household and having attended a number of balls, dinners, assemblies, and the like.”

“Wickham turned up at the club at mid-morning today and departed for a rooming-house at noon. He has now left the rooming-house and returned to the club.” Parker scowled. “It is good we may be able to move on this tonight.”

At that moment, they were joined by Mr. Hurst himself, in evening dress as promised. Darcy thought he looked more alert than usual—his eyes were not puffy, and he was certainly showing no signs of his usual indolence. After introductions, the four men went to dinner—and to get down to business.

∞∞∞

Elizabeth was awakened at five by Ruth, who had arrived with a tray. “This is a light, nourishing supper, Miss Bennet. You should do your best to finish it. You may be expected to consume a glass of wine, and you will be sorry if you have not eaten something.”

Elizabeth did her best with her supper while trying to keep her hands from shaking. She could not recall ever having been so terrified in her life. It was like being awakened on the morning of one’s execution. Her stomach churned, and she felt dizzy and lightheaded.

After her supper, she abandoned her soft nightgown in favor of a silk chemise, silk stockings, and fine French kid slippers.

Ruth laced her into the corset and seated her at the dressing-table.

Many candles were lit, and Ruth dressed her hair in the simple topknot and curls she had devised the day before.

The rouge-pots came out, and her lips and cheeks were stained a much deeper color than they had been the day before.

Ruth chose a sophisticated scent and applied it carefully, and to finish, she dusted Elizabeth’s bosom and neck very lightly with pearl powder.

“It may be warm,” she said by way of explanation.

Ruth drew a deep breath and squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “It’s time to put on your gown.”

Elizabeth’s heart sank when Ruth brought out the ruby silk. “I was dreading that one,” she said quietly.

“I knew that, but it was ordered that you wear it.” Ruth helped Elizabeth to fasten the pearls around her neck.

She next drew the gown carefully over Elizabeth’s head without disturbing her coiffure and settled it on her form before beginning to fasten it.

Elizabeth noted, but did not mention, that the gown fastened quite easily.

She refrained from attempting to adjust it over her bosom and stood quietly as Ruth helped her put on the long gloves.

They had begun to hear murmuring, feminine voices in the hall, and light footfalls.

Ruth handed her a lace fan and a handkerchief.

“It is time. I will walk down with you. I want to say—I want to say, God bless you, and I will be here when you return to tend to you.” She pulled Elizabeth’s arm through her own, and the two young women took their place in the group of young women walking downstairs.

Elizabeth was surprised to find only ten or twelve girls waiting near the back door.

Most were lovely, and all were beautifully gowned.

Many girls had beautiful jewels—necklaces, bracelets, pendants, earrings, and hair ornaments—all were in evidence.

Ruth squeezed Elizabeth’s hand and melted away, leaving Elizabeth feeling numb and lightheaded with fear.

She pulled herself together with a desperate effort.

The girls divided into two lines against the walls of the back hall, and Madame Charpentier, also beautifully gowned, swept between them.

She cast a sharp eye on each girl, nodded her approval, and led the way to the rear door.

Two burly footmen awaited them, and the back garden was illuminated by lanterns which made it possible to see the path.

Each girl linked arms with the one next to her, and they swept through the garden, up the back steps of the neighboring house, and into the small vestibule at the back.

Madame Charpentier detained Elizabeth and the girl she had walked over with.

“Sophie,” she began. “This is Elizabeth. You are to keep an eye on her, take her around the gaming tables, and ensure that she behaves properly. She is not to engage in private conversation with any of the gentlemen. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Madame,” replied Sophie. She beckoned to Elizabeth, and the two walked down the hallway and entered the main salon much as two debutantes might have entered a ballroom.

Elizabeth was conscious of tasteful candlelight, odors of wine, tobacco, and sweat, the gleam of gold coins on polished wood, and the sound of masculine voices which stilled momentarily when she entered but which soon regained their original intensity.

Sophie gestured to the table at their right.

“The gentlemen there are playing Hazard. It is a game of dice. While here on my left, they are playing Macau. Both games are played for very high stakes. It is important not to speak to any of the gentlemen who are playing here unless they greet you first.” They moved slowly through the room, Sophie occasionally exchanging a greeting with someone, and when they reached the double doors at the back, a footman offered them flutes of champagne.

Sophie gestured for Elizabeth to take one.

“Nurse it,” she said quietly. Do not drink too much. ”

The second room was much more dimly lit, and several of the young women were seated either next to gentlemen or in some cases on their laps.

Some gentlemen seemed to have two girls fawning over them while in other cases, two gentlemen vied for the attentions of the same girl.

The conversation was loud and raucous, punctuated by the frequent laughter of the girls.

Elizabeth held her champagne and willed herself to look neither to the right nor to the left, and Sophie led the way through the room.