by Lilian Swift
“Come in.” His attractive male voice bade her enter.
Taking a deep breath, she turned the doorknob and walked into his study.
Shades of fawn and navy greeted her. And there, sitting at a magnificent mahogany desk, was Darcy.
“Miss Bennet.” He looked surprised. He hastily rose and bowed.
“Mr. Darcy. Forgive me.” She could feel heat on her cheeks. She just hoped he hadn’t noticed. “I am sorry to disturb you but I must tell you something.”
“What is it?” He pulled out a chair on the opposite side of the desk and gestured for her to sit.
“Thank you.” Lizzy sat down, watching as he returned to his chair behind the desk. “I did not wish to mention this before in the presence of your sister, but during my investigation, I heard rumors of white slavers in the area. From the servants.”
At first he looked shocked, then laughed. “White slavers? I have heard no such thing.”
“That is what Mrs. Annesley said when I quizzed her a few days ago,” Lizzy told him. “But where would the servants get this idea?”
“Surely it is a wild rumor – and a very convenient one to blame Sally’s disappearance on,” he said.
“True.” Lizzy nodded. “I had thought of that myself. But Hill, our maid at Longbourn, also mentioned white slavers. She showed me the letter she had received from her sister, and that topic was not mentioned.”
“Perhaps there is a popular novel where white slavers are a major part of the plot,” he suggested.
“That is possible.” Lizzy permitted herself a smile, thinking of Lydia’s reaction to Lizzy’s mention of such a fictional novel. “But how many of the servants would have the time to read such a book? Can they all read? How far away is the circulating library?”
“You make some good points,” Darcy conceded slowly. He frowned. “But what would white slavers be doing in Derbyshire? There is not a convenient port nearby.”
“I know.” Lizzy nodded. “Which is why I find it strange that white slavers were mentioned in the first place. Surely they would stick to areas where they were able to get away quickly if needed.”
“I hope you never turn to a life of crime, Miss Bennet. I fear you would be far too good at it.” Darcy looked at her in admiration.
“I hope that is a compliment, sir,” Lizzy parried.
“Oh, it is indeed.” He continued to gaze upon her, warmth in his eyes.
Lizzy’s spine tingled with pleasure.
Why had he not behaved like this in Meryton? Was this the true Darcy? If the gentleman in front of her now had proposed to her that fateful day at Hunsford, would her answer have been different?
But she must remember that he was the reason Jane and Mr. Bingley were not together. He had interfered in that burgeoning relationship when he had no right to.
“I shall look into the white slavers possibility,” he finally said. “But it may take a few days to find out anything – that is if I am not laughed out of Derbyshire for suggesting such a thing,” he murmured.
“Thank you.” Lizzy rose and turned toward the door. She paused. “And thank you for allowing me to stay on as a guest. You may not believe me, but I consider Miss Darcy to be one of my friends now, and I should like to see the resolution to Sally’s disappearance.”
“Whether good news or bad?” he queried.
“Yes.”
THAT NIGHT, LIZZY HELPED Miss Darcy with her nightclothes, just like she used to as her lady’s maid.
“Is it terrible of me to ask you to brush my hair?” Miss Darcy asked her hopefully.
“Not at all.” Lizzy smiled at her and picked up the hairbrush. “I brush my sister Jane’s hair all the time, and she does the same for me.”
“I think Jane sounds like a wonderful sister,” Miss Darcy told her.
When Lizzy had regaled the younger girl with tales of her sisters, she had not mentioned all of them by name – apart from Jane. She had debated whether to give them all fictional names, but decided that would do a disservice to Jane, who was one of the best creatures to ever walk this earth – and Miss Darcy seemed to share many of her traits.
Although she had related funny stories about Kitty and Lydia, the only stories she had of Jane were to do with her kind and thoughtful acts.
“She is,” Lizzy replied. “I love all my sisters, but Jane and I are closest in age, and we share a bedroom.”
“I wish I had a sister.” Miss Darcy sighed.
“Perhaps you will one day,” Lizzy told her. “When you get married.”
“I hope so.” Miss Darcy looked at their reflection in the mirror. “I hope she is just as nice as you.”
They smiled at each.
After saying goodnight to Miss Darcy, Lizzy headed to her own bedchamber. She wanted to get a good night’s sleep. In the morning they would be searching for Sally, and Lizzy was determined that she would find her – even if she had to stay at Pemberley for months!
CHAPTER 11
The next morning, Lizzy had butterflies in her stomach – and for once it had nothing to do with Mr. Darcy.
She was excited to start searching for Sally, now Darcy and the rest of the household were taking the housemaid’s disappearance seriously.
“I shall go on horseback,” Darcy told them as he buttered a bread roll.
Lizzy had just finished a plateful of bacon and was now nibbling on a piece of toast. She did not usually eat quite so much at breakfast, but she wanted to make sure she had enough energy; she might not have a chance to eat again until dinner that evening.
“I would like to retrace my steps toward the farmhouse,” Lizzy informed Darcy and his sister. “I am positive she was on her way to her parents – and she cannot have vanished into thin air.” She glanced at Miss Darcy. “But this time, I – we – will be able to go even further.”
“Perhaps we could talk to her mother,” Miss Darcy said eagerly.
“That is a good idea.” Lizzy smiled at the younger girl.
“Very well,” Darcy said. “I shall have men searching in the opposite direction – and you are to take a footman with you.”
Lizzy opened her mouth to protest, then reluctantly closed it when she saw Darcy’s expression. She knew she would not win this argument.
“Very well,” she acquiesced.
“Perhaps we should ride there,” Miss Darcy suggested.
“I am worried if we do that, we may miss a clue,” Lizzy replied. “If we are staring straight ahead above a horse’s neck, then we may not notice a piece of torn fabric or some such thing on the ground.”
“That is a good point.” Darcy spoke.
“But if you would like to ride, Miss Darcy, I have no objection.” She smiled at the girl. “I could always walk beside you.”
“No.” Miss Darcy shook her head. “It would not be fair.”
Lizzy suspected Miss Darcy was a much better rider than herself. After all, it seemed as if she had every advantage growing up – apart from the presence of her parents – while the Bennets made do with a stout pony for the occasional ride in the countryside.
“Return to the house immediately if you find something,” Darcy told them.
Miss Darcy nodded.
“I feel like I shall not be doing anything,” Mrs. Annesley said as they finished breakfast. “If only my knees did not play up so!”
“You will be able to keep us apprised of the efforts of the other searchers,” Darcy told her kindly.
“I shall be happy to.” Mrs. Annesley smiled, seeming pleased at being useful in some way.
After breakfast Lizzy and Miss Darcy set off at a brisk pace. One of the footmen walked a few yards behind them.
“I confess I have not visited this farm before,” Miss Darcy said. “It is not on our estate.”
“It’s past the forest you showed me,” Lizzy told her. “Oh!” She halted as a sudden thought struck her. “Is someone searching the forest?”
“Yes.” Miss Darcy nodded. “My brothe
r assured me last night that he would have plenty of men to search it today.”
“That is a relief,” Lizzy said as they continued to walk.
Once they had passed the forest, men striking out in all directions, Miss Darcy spoke.
“I hope I am not being too forward, Miss Bennet, but do you think we ... could call each other by our first names now?” She looked hopefully at Lizzy.
“Of course.” Lizzy smiled at her. “In fact, that very matter has been on my mind as well.”
“Wonderful! I am Georgiana.”
“And as you know, I am Elizabeth, but my friends call me Lizzy.”
Georgiana smiled at her, then cast a backward glance. The footman now trailed behind them, his face red from exertion.
“I think our poor footman is having a little trouble matching our pace, Lizzy.” Georgiana giggled. “I know I should not find it funny.” She gradually sobered.
“We have a lot of ground to cover,” Lizzy told her. “I only hope that he can keep up.”
They slackened their pace a little, and continued in the direction of the farmhouse. Finally, they came to the rutted tracks Lizzy had discovered a few days ago.
“This is where I turned back,” Lizzy told Georgiana. She looked up at the sky. It was blue with puffy white clouds and there was not even a hint at a drop of rain. “At least we have good weather today.”
“We must keep going.” Georgiana followed one side of the track.
Lizzy looked over her shoulder. The footman was manfully trying to catch up to them.
“It may not be much farther,” she called to him in the way of encouragement.
She and Georgiana continued along the tracks. Lizzy kept her eyes on the ground, her gaze sweeping the immediate area. Was her theory wrong about Sally attempting to make her way home that fateful Sunday?
Suddenly, she spied a piece of yellow ribbon fluttering on the side of the track. It was caught in a small, green bush.
“Georgiana!” Excitement colored Lizzy’s voice. “I’ve found something!”
“What is it?” Georgiana rushed over, her expression alert.
“This.” She handed the tattered piece of ribbon to her companion. “I suppose you do not know if this belongs to Sally?”
“No,” Georgiana said regretfully.
Lizzy waited for the footman to catch up with them, huffing and puffing.
“Do you know if this belonged to Sally?” she asked, showing him the small strip of yellow.
He scratched his head and screwed up his face, thinking.
“I don’t rightly know, miss,” he finally said. “She might have worn yellow bits on her days out, like, but I didn’t pay much attention.”
“Thank you.” Lizzy nodded and handed the ribbon back to Georgiana. “I didn’t get this far last time – so I think it’s a clue.”
“Yes!” Georgiana sounded excited. “I do, too. Who else could it belong to?”
“I think we should walk a little farther,” Lizzy said, “and see if Sally’s parents live at the end of this track.”
The footman groaned.
“But Fitzwilliam said we should return to the house if we find anything,” Georgiana reminded her.
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if we see who lives along here,” Lizzy said persuasively.
Georgiana looked a little doubtful, but did not say anything.
They continued on, Lizzy feeling a little thirsty by now. Although she was used to long walks at home, it felt like they had walked quite a few miles by now, and they still had a distance to go. The cart track stretched before them, with seemingly no end in sight.
“Blimey,” she heard the footman mutter to himself. “It’s a long way to walk.”
Finally, a small farmhouse came into view.
“Sally’s house!” Georgiana started to run toward it.
“Careful,” Lizzy cautioned. “We do not know for sure who lives there.”
“You’re right,” Georgiana said, slowing her stride so she walked briskly once more. “And,” she looked over her shoulder, “I think we should wait for our escort to catch up.”
Lizzy nodded, stopping until the out-of-breath footman caught up with them.
“A nice cup of tea wouldn’t go amiss,” he muttered, taking out his handkerchief to mop his face.
“You do not go out walking often, do you?” Georgiana enquired.
“No, miss, I don’t. After today I know I prefer life below stairs than out in the open.” He shook his head.
Lizzy felt sorry for the poor man, but they were on a mission.
“I think we should make enquiries at the farmhouse,” she declared.
“Yes,” Georgiana agreed eagerly.
They walked briskly to the little house, the footman groaning once more behind them.
Brown chickens scattered at their approach, squawking with surprise.
The yard was neatly kept with a small vegetable patch in one corner and fruit trees in another.
Geese flapped their wings in the distance, honking as if Lizzy’s and Georgiana’s appearance disturbed them.
Lizzy stepped up to the solid wooden door, gray with age, and knocked loudly.
A plump woman wearing a lace cap over her dark hair answered the door. She looked puzzled.
“Yes?”
“I am Miss Darcy of Pemberley,” Georgiana took the lead. “And this is my friend, Miss Bennet. Are you Sally’s mother?”
“Yes, I am, miss.” The woman curtsied. “Have you news of her?” She looked hopeful.
“I’m afraid not, ma’am,” Lizzy spoke. “But we are continuing to search for her.” She held out the piece of yellow ribbon she had found. “Do you know if this belonged to Sally?”
“Yes.” Her face crumpled. “She had a ribbon like that on her bonnet. Oh, Sally.” She sobbed into her apron.
“It may not signify that any harm has come to her,” Lizzy said hastily. “We found it a little way down the track.”
“Then she was coming to see me that Sunday,” her mother said. “Just like I told them.”
“Who?” Georgiana asked.
“Mrs. Reynolds,” Sally’s mother told her. “When I went to the house to find out why Sally hadn’t come to visit us like we knew she was. She was a good girl, Sally was.” Her mother nodded. “She wouldn’t have run off or done anything wicked.”
“Is there anywhere else she would go?” Lizzy asked.
“No.” The woman shook her head. “There aren’t any other farms nearby – not that I know of, and I’ve been living here all my life. Except—” she paused, as if thinking, “—there are plenty of fells around here, and who knows what’s on the other side?” She shivered. “I’ve never been keen on exploring them, that’s a fact.”
“We’ll continue to search for her,” Lizzy told her gently.
“You’ll let me know what you find – good or bad?” The woman’s voice wobbled.
“Of course,” Georgiana said just as gently.
“God bless you.” Sally’s mother wiped a tear from her eye.
Lizzy and Georgiana left the farmhouse. Although Lizzy would not have minded something to drink, she could scarcely intrude on the poor woman’s grief.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the footman at the water pump, dousing his face in a stream of water, but did not think she should say anything – the poor man certainly looked hot and uncomfortable, and she did not want him passing out on the way back because his thirst was denied.
“We must return to the house immediately,” Georgiana said. “I cannot wait to show the ribbon to Fitzwilliam.”
“I just wish we could explore some more,” Lizzy said wistfully. But they had been searching for at least a couple of hours, and they still had to return to the estate.
Lizzy turned back to the farmhouse. What lay beyond it? Moorland. And in the distance she could see grass covered mountains – or fells – but would Sally have walked that far? And why? The notion that something had happ
ened to Sally on her way to the farmhouse that Sunday grew stronger.
“We will tell my brother we must continue our investigation tomorrow,” Georgiana said.
Lizzy hesitated, halting. “You do not think we have time to do more exploring now?”
Georgiana looked tempted for a moment, then shook her head.
“No,” she replied. “Fitzwilliam will be very cross with us if we do so. And he might be worried if we do not return before dinner.”
“You are right.” Lizzy nodded. “And I did promise that no harm would come to you today.”
The two young ladies looked at each other in understanding and then struck out toward Pemberley, leaving the footman to bring up the rear.
CHAPTER 12
“I asked you to return the moment you found something.” Darcy paced the length of the drawing room, looking frustrated.
When Lizzy and Georgiana had arrived back at the house, it was obvious he had been waiting for them by the worried set of his brow.
“It was my decision to walk a little further and see if we could find the farmhouse,” Lizzy spoke up, not wanting his sister to get into any trouble.
“I thought you had better sense than that.” Darcy halted and raked a hand through his hair.
“I did not think we would come to any harm,” Lizzy replied. “And we had a footman with us.”
“Instead, I had to wonder why the two of you had not returned,” he replied. “I was just about to send the men out to look for you when you strolled into this room, acting as if you did not have a care in the world.” He scowled.
“Fitzwilliam, please don’t be cross,” Georgiana said. “We have found an important clue!” She held out the scrap of ribbon to him.
He raised his eyebrow in surprise as he studied the yellow strand.
“Sally’s mother said she thinks it belongs to her,” Lizzy said. “Apparently it was a bonnet trimming.”
“Where did you find this?” His eyes sharpened.
“On a bush on the way to the farmhouse,” Lizzy explained.