“Colonel Fitzwilliam will be living at Darcy House with me. It will not be easy for you.”
“No more ’n I deserve, sir. Leastways, my conscience is finally clear.”
Darcy stood. “Then you should follow us back. It is getting dark.”
Josiah and Isaac Anders were outside speaking to another man he recognised.
“Evening, gentlemen,” Hardiman said. Unlike the Anders men, he was nearly as tidy as he might be after spending the day inside Longbourn’s drawing room. “I see I have arrived at just the right time.” He gestured to the five men tied up and under guard. “Miss Elizabeth was correct. Youarein need of a constable.”
Darcy smiled to himself. Clever woman. “So it would seem, Hardiman. I thank you.”
“The Anderses have agreed to assist me. May I recommend the two of you head to your home before dark?”
The sun was even now dipping below the horizon. “Very well,” Darcy said, determining that he would have some clothes made up that would not so clearly mark him out as a man of means. “Thank you for your help, Hardiman. Oh . . .” He reached into his boot and removed the knife. “I believe you will need that.” He handed it over. “Return to Darcy House when you are finished, if you would,” Darcy told the men. “I would appreciate an opportunity to discuss all of this.”
“In the morning,” Fitzwilliam added. Even he must be weary.
“In the morning,” Darcy agreed.
Elizabeth ought to have waited in the carriage, but she was too anxious to sit still. She stepped down without assistance and joined her father, who stood on the steps. He growled a little when he saw her.
“Impatient girl,” he told her. “You ought not be loitering on the steps when we are not certain to be asked inside.”
“I cannot sit still, Papa,” she told him. “I am all nerves.”
“You have inherited them from your mother,” he said, shaking his head.
“I have inherited more than this,” she said seriously.
Her father gazed at her. “You have, my dear,” he said at last. “I simply do not wish to admit it.”
Suddenly, the door opened to reveal the butler. He was a pale, spindly sort of man, and Elizabeth was momentarily diverted when he heaved a sigh so deep that it seemed to originate in his toes.
“Yes?” he inquired, the word almost quivering with disdain.
Papa pulled himself up to his full height. “I am General Bennet, here to see Mr. Darcy.”
The man’s eyes searched Papa from head to toe. “He is not at home. You may leave your card.”
“He will wish for me to wait.”
“He did not leave word of your arrival.”
“Darcy did not expect us, but he will be quite angry if you leave his future wife and father standing on the steps.”
The butler’s eyes narrowed. He did not believe them. “Get on with you.” He moved to shut the door.
Elizabeth shivered with more than the cold. She had spent nearly four hours in the carriage imagining the worst, that she might lose another man she loved. To be sent away now was too much.
Papa glanced at her, then shoved one foot between the door and the jamb. He held his hand out to her, and she took it.
The butler did his best to push Papa away, but he was hardly a match for a man who had spent most of his life leading men into battle. Papa shouldered the door open, and Elizabeth stepped inside behind him.
“I have had enough foolishness today,” Papa said with a grunt at the butler. “You may send Mr. Darcy a message that we are here and await his return. My daughter requires a chair.”
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself, but the trembling would not cease.
The butler strode off in a pique, no doubt to call a few footmen.