Pride and Premeditation (Jane Austen Murder Mystery #1)(11)
“Bingley,” Mr. Darcy acknowledged. “The warden informed me that Caroline had come to visit you, which I had told her was unnecessary as you will be at home by teatime, but clearly—” The owner of such a brisk, authoritative voice broke off when he took in Lizzie’s face and frowned spectacularly. “You’re not Caroline.”
It should have occurred to Lizzie to be embarrassed at being caught in a lie, but she was far too distracted by this person, this Darcy. He was dressed smartly, but not a dandy. His face was somewhat longer than what might be considered attractive, but his slightly crooked nose made his face interesting—like a marble statue where the artist had slipped just the tiniest bit when forming the nose. Lizzie was caught between the urge to stand and curtsy and the desire to stare back defiantly. Mr. Darcy’s dark eyes returned her bold look until Lizzie concluded that he was indeed unconventionally handsome, though she herself could not imagine admiring someone with such a forbidding frown.
“This is Miss Bennet,” Bingley informed Mr. Darcy. “Of Longbourn and Sons. Miss Bennet, my good friend Mr. Darcy.”
“I wasn’t aware that any women worked at Longbourn and Sons,” Darcy said.
Lizzie smiled politely. “I’m happy to enlighten you.”
Darcy’s expression didn’t alter as he continued. “I’m sorry to disappoint, Miss Bennet, but Mr. Bingley has already engaged legal representation.”
“You’re a solicitor?” Lizzie demanded.
Here, Darcy hesitated and Lizzie saw his stony demeanor slip when he glanced at Bingley. It was back in place by the time he looked back at her and said, “I am Fitzwilliam Darcy, of Pemberley and Associates.”
Oh, he was one of the Pemberley Darcys! Lizzie knew the name. Judging by his youth and indirect response, Lizzie guessed that his standing in the firm—surely his father’s—was as secure as her own. “A pleasure,” she said, not quite managing to keep the sour tone out of her voice.
“Indeed,” Darcy replied flippantly, but when he turned back to Bingley he was all concern. “How are you?”
While Bingley responded, Lizzie did her best not to appear annoyed by this intrusion. So Darcy was an explanation after all. It didn’t matter how impressive Lizzie’s proposition was, not if Bingley had Mr. Darcy of Pemberley & Associates as a close personal friend. Pemberley & Associates was one of the finest, most renowned firms in all of London and, by extension, all of England.
“But Miss Bennet and I have been having the most intriguing conversation, and I say, Darcy, she has some good points about my case.” Lizzie looked up just in time to see Darcy cast a disinterested look in her direction. “Perhaps you ought to hear her theories?”
“I detest working alongside someone with whom I am not acquainted,” Darcy said.
“Why, Mr. Darcy, were we not introduced just two minutes ago?” Lizzie asked.
He blinked, and Lizzie knew she had caught him off guard. “I am in no humor to give consequence to young ladies who use . . . wiles to gain entrance to Newgate, Miss Bennet.”
Lizzie stood to face Darcy, indignant. “I don’t need to resort to wiles when I have intellect at my disposal!”
He looked momentarily taken aback at Lizzie’s response. “My apologies, Miss Bennet,” he said, and Lizzie relaxed the slightest bit—until he continued. “Allow me to rephrase. I am in no humor to give consequence to young ladies without common sense.”
If Darcy had slapped Lizzie, it wouldn’t have been more shocking. “What’s the harm in conferring? Would it be so damaging to your pride if it turned out my ideas held merit?”
Ah, that achieved a glint of passion in Darcy’s eyes. It gave Lizzie great satisfaction to see such an insufferable man ruffled.
“I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet,” Darcy said with an uncomfortable laugh. “Naturally, Bingley shall engage the services of whomever he likes and is confident shall handle this case.” He turned to Bingley, who was finishing his fourth scone and watching the volley of words between Darcy and Lizzie with wide-eyed fascination. “I have already secured your release on bail with the warden. Will you be leaving with me, or shall you wait for Miss Bennet to . . .”
Bingley looked sheepishly at Lizzie and said, “I’d like to leave, please.”
“Just as I thought.”
Bingley brushed the crumbs from his hands and said, “Sorry, Miss Bennet. It’s just that I know Darcy from when we were at school together, and he’s a good friend. Please do call on me at your earliest convenience. I’m indebted to you for your faith in my innocence, and the food, of course.”
Darcy cleared his throat, and Bingley added, “You really are quite clever.”
Bingley gave her a small bow and shuffled from the room, shackles clanking. Lizzie thought that Darcy would follow him, but instead the other young man paused to look back at her. Lizzie met his gaze full-on, so he’d know she could not be intimidated. He replaced his hat upon his head and his lips quirked into a small, triumphant smile. “Better luck next time, Miss Bennet.”
Words scrambled about in her head, but before she could arrange them into a witty response, Darcy swept from the room the same way he’d entered—silently and imperiously.
Lizzie struggled to maintain her composure. Oh, this was worse than standing by as Collins took credit for her work. Darcy seemed like just the sort of man that Lizzie had learned very early on to avoid. They were the first to laugh at her aspirations and the first to overlook her when a conversation turned complex. At best they were dismissive, and at worst they were cruel. It hardly seemed possible that Bingley could be associated with someone of this sort, but it was not something she could have foreseen. Therefore, it was not a personal failure.