“There has to be something,” Darcy grumbled.“Keep your eyes open and watch where you step.”

Again, they moved carefully—looking for another trail—another clue. After several long, agonizing moments, Stafford called out, “Here!”

As quickly as the deep snow and strong wind would allow, Darcy and Worth joined the viscount. “What is it?” Worth asked as he knelt beside Stafford.

“Here,” he said and pointed to the upper branches of a bramble bush. “Threads. Probably from the maid’s dress.”

“And here.” Darcy said. He was kneeling close by, holding the lower branches of a Spanish oak. “See, Stafford, it is the same shape as we found on the tree by the cottages.”

Stafford’s mouth twisted in an all-knowing smile. “The square heel. When we find the man with the square-shaped heel, we will find your murderer, Darcy.”

Chapter 16

A subdued atmosphere enveloped the evening meal. Another death. The murders had taken their toll on the group. Despite how often they tried to put it all behind them—to resume their lives—death reared its ugly head and dragged them all back into the abyss. The serving staff performed their duties—an upper house English servant never neglected his responsibility—but without enthusiasm.

Elizabeth joined Darcy, realizing he needed her support.Tonight, he placed her at his right hand, rather than at the other end of the table. He could reach under the cloth to touch her hand or squeeze her knee—to reassure them both of their affection and their unity. The party dwindled to a handful. His aunt, along with Anne, had chosen to take the evening meal in their chambers. Georgiana kept her cousin company. In addition, distraught over the news of the maid’s demise, Lydia Wickham had sent word that she would dine alone.

When Lieutenant Harwood entered the dining room, the rest of the guests had begun their meals. “I apologize for my tardiness, Mr. Darcy.” Against propriety, the man offered no explanation for his lateness.

“Please join us, Lieutenant.” Darcy gestured to a chair beside Adam Lawrence.When the man had settled, Darcy made the introduction. “Mrs. Darcy, may I present Lieutenant Harwood.”

Harwood nodded an acknowledgement. “It is pleasant to have your acquaintance at last, Mrs. Darcy. Colonel Fitzwilliam speaks so highly of you.”

“My cousin, the good colonel, is one of my wife’s greatest admirers,” Darcy remarked to the rest of the table.

“Our Edward is most generous in his regard.” Elizabeth blushed while slipping her left hand into Darcy’s right.

Darcy drew the lieutenant’s attention to the lady on the viscount’s right. “I might also take the liberty, Harwood, of making you familiar with Mrs. Williams.” The woman slowly raised her chin to meet the lieutenant’s steady gaze.“I am afraid Mrs.Williams escaped the morning room before you joined us, and you had no opportunity to make the lady’s acquaintance.”

Elizabeth’s hand tightened around Darcy’s fingers, alerting him to the fleeting look of surprise crossing Harwood’s face.“I am honored, Mrs.Williams,” he mumbled in apparent awkwardness.

“As am I, Lieutenant. My late husband served this great country’s navy, and I am forever pleased to know any man who takes up the call to arms.”

Harwood looked about. “Am I to assume Miss de Bourgh has chosen not to join us?”

“My cousin and my sister, Miss Darcy, have promised to become members of our party a bit later—for some light entertainment. My sister has agreed to grace us with several musical selections. I hope you will honor us with a song, Miss Donnel.You have a most pleasant voice.”

Although she flushed, Cathleen accepted readily.

“You have a musical talent, Miss Donnel? I envy anyone who can breathe life into a song.‘Butcher’ was the word my tutor always used to refer to my musical expertise.” Harwood smiled charmingly at Cathleen.

“I pray I do not disappoint you, Lieutenant.”

“A lady never disappoints.” He turned to Stafford next. “I neglected to ask,Your Lordship, of your family.Are you simply to tend to a long-suffering relative or to a situation more dire?”

Adam spoke with dignity, trying not to betray his amusement at the lieutenant’s ability to say the right thing to each person. “Actually, it is my cousin’s relative on her maternal side. I am related only through marriage—she through blood.”

“It is my Uncle Kennice,” Cathleen added. “He is quite ill, and we have little hope for him, I fear.”

“Might I ask where in Cheshire your uncle resides, Miss Donnel?” Harwood’s false interest went undetected by her, but Stafford, Darcy, and Worth all listened with great interest.

Cathleen enjoyed speaking of her family, even though they discussed a heartfelt sadness. Her recent decision to abandon Adam Lawrence’s company and return to the bosom of her relations brought her contentment, and she gladly shared the requested information. “Between Warrington and Macclesfield, south of Manchester.”

“Outside Mobberley?” Worth asked. “The Kennices outside Mobberley—I know them.”

Stafford smiled. “I should have suspected you would have knowledge of my extended family, Worth. Is there a family in this part of the country of which you have no acquaintance?”

“My firm holds a reputation for honesty, especially in land dealings. Many seek us out.”

“I expected nothing less, Mr. Worth.” Stafford winked at the solicitor, letting him know he meant no offense.

Harwood recaptured the conversation. “And your Uncle Kennice, Miss Donnel, is of connections?”

“A baron, Lieutenant Harwood.” Cathleen blushed profusely. “But he is of Irish extraction—not as well situated as His Lordship or Mr. Darcy.”

Worth took up her defense. “Yet Kennice owns an excellent tract of land, quite profitable.”

“We will take your word regarding business,” Darcy summarized.

“Of course, Mr. Darcy. The details are dry. We men of law understand that others do not see property deeds and liens as dinner conversation.”


When the party retired to the music room, they found Georgiana and Anne already in preparation for the performance, so Darcy dismissed the required introductions until later.

“Miss de Bourgh, please come join me,” Elizabeth bade as she approached the pianoforte, making sure to steer Anne away from the lieutenant.

Anne gave her a nod of gratitude. “Thank you, Mrs. Darcy.” They took up residence on a small settee facing the instrument.

“Shall I turn the pages for you, Georgiana?” Darcy leaned over to whisper to his sister.

She replied softly, “Thank you, Fitzwilliam, for thinking of it. You know what a ninny I can be when I have an audience.”

“What I know,” he murmured as he arranged the music,“is that when you sit to the pianoforte, my Dear, you are brilliant. Do not forget that, Georgie. We are in awe of your talent.”

His sister shook her head, but his words of approval caused her shoulders to straighten and her chin to rise. For the evening, Georgiana had chosen a varied selection, including “Then Farewell, My Tridonotuse-Built Wherry” and Dibdin’s “The Soldier’s Adieu,” as well as the song cycle “Colin and Lucy.” Georgiana began tentatively, but soon lost herself in the music—the notes swelling and crescendoing in the well-designed room. Mesmerized by her immersion in the performance, Darcy watched Georgiana’s face. He had never seen her look more beautiful. Someday he would have to part with Georgiana—give her to another man, who would protect and keep her. Darcy would consider only a man who would cherish this part of his sister—the creative spirit, which needed nurturing in order for Georgiana to live fully.

“Bravo!” Mr. Worth cheered when Georgiana had completed the first number.

Miss Donnel agreed, saying, “Excellent, Miss Darcy!” Cathleen would sing next, and Georgiana would finish out the entertainment. As Cathleen prepared, the others spoke cordially or sipped on libations.

“Shall you speak to the lieutenant?” Elizabeth asked quietly.

Anne shrugged, looking resigned to the prospect. “Do I have a choice? Fitzwilliam believes I should at least listen to the man, although I do not wish to acknowledge my part in bringing Lieutenant Harwood here. What a gormless, dull-witted action! How could I have fallen for his beautiful face and not noticed his lackluster soul?”

Elizabeth glanced to where her husband sat beside Georgiana. “Sometimes perfection hides behind a mask of ambiguity.”

“I wish I had met Mr. Worth long before the lieutenant. If so, I might not have been so easily fooled.” Anne’s eyes naturally drifted to where Worth sat, interacting with Georgiana.

Elizabeth followed Anne’s gaze. “Then you cannot imagine Lieutenant Harwood’s declaration to be an honest one?”

Anne lowered her voice, hoping for privacy. “I believe the lieutenant honestly desires my dowry, but as to his earnest affection, I am of a different persuasion.”

“Then why allow the man the freedom of voicing his hopes?”

“Because the lieutenant knows intimately of my ruin.” Tears misted Anne’s eyes, and she swallowed hard, trying to disguise her emotions. “Mr. Darcy and Mr.Worth believe my ill-advised actions will cost my mother a pretty sum—my dowry in exchange for a vow of silence. Her Ladyship may never forgive me. I could strike the man dead for his perfidy!” Her heartfelt words signaled the first of her tears.

Elizabeth slipped a handkerchief into Anne’s fisted grasp on the cushion’s edge. “Trust Fitzwilliam, Miss de Bourgh. He has sworn to protect you, and he is a man of his word.You are safe under my husband’s care.”