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After finishing dinner with the servants, Lizzy hurried to her room to await Miss Darcy’s summons, and to think.
She had not found anything that afternoon that could have been a clue to Sally’s disappearance. The small section of forest she’d searched had yielded nought.
However, she was determined to press on with her investigation. Sally could not have simply vanished into thin air!
When Lizzy heard the tinkling bell requiring her assistance, she left her bedchamber and came across Mrs. Annesley leaving Miss Darcy’s room.
This was her chance!
“Mrs. Annesley,” she greeted the older lady. “I hope you do not think I am being impertinent—” she had to think like a lady’s maid, not a young lady from a respectable family, “—when I ask you this, but—” she dropped her voice “—I have heard rumors that white slavers are in the area.”
“White slavers?” Mrs. Annesley paled. “Goodness, no. I have never heard of such a thing!”
“That is a relief,” Lizzy replied, relaxing slightly.
“Where did you hear such news?”
“A friend told me,” she said hastily, thinking of Hill.
“We are perfectly safe here,” Mrs. Annesley assured her. “But please, do not mention anything to Miss Darcy. I do not want her to worry.”
“Of course not,” Lizzy promised as she entered Miss Darcy’s room.
Although Mrs. Annesley had reassured her, it made Lizzy wonder just how the subject of white slavers abducting Sally had come about in the first place. Was there really a thrilling novel about white slavers, and that was where the servants had conjured up the idea? Or was there actual truth to the suggestion?
Lizzy helped Miss Darcy get ready for bed, brushing her hair once more.
“Oh, I finished The Mysteries of Udolpho today,” Miss Darcy informed her sleepily as she snuggled under the covers. “So tomorrow we can discuss it, particularly Montoni’s character. Wasn’t he terrible?”
“I shall look forward to it,” Lizzy replied, her mind only half on the conversation. She could not stop thinking about the possibility of white slavers in Derbyshire.
***
A FEW DAYS LATER, LIZZY had just returned from her morning walk with Miss Darcy. A bramble had made a small tear in Miss Darcy’s gown, and Lizzy promised to fix it as soon as they returned to the house.
She settled in her bedroom, near the window where the light was good, to make the repair. Just as she was setting to with her needle and thread, she heard the clip-clop of horse’s hooves from the drive.
She stilled. They were not expecting company – at least Miss Darcy had not informed her of such. Who could it be?
She bent her head to her sewing, but strained her ears to hear what was going on below.
A few minutes later, she heard a shriek! Startled, she dropped her needle and raced to the hall. It sounded like Miss Darcy.
“Fitzwilliam!” she heard Miss Darcy shout joyfully from the front door.
Oh no! Mr. Darcy was here? But how could he be? He was supposed to be in London with the Bingleys!
“You did not say in your letter you were coming home yet,” Miss Darcy continued, hugging her brother as they stood in the hall below her.
Lizzy froze, then whirled into her bedroom and shut the door. He must not know she was here!
Her scheme was ruined! How could she stay here, searching for Sally, when he – Mr. Darcy – the gentleman who had proposed to her at Hunsford – had returned?
She had been completely wrong about championing Wickham when he had told her his tale of woe. She had not seen Mr. Darcy since she had received his letter explaining his history with Wickham, and his part in separating Jane from Mr. Bingley.
Nor did she wish to.
Although she had been offended by his proposal, she was also embarrassed that she had misjudged Wickham, and perhaps Darcy as well. She, who prided herself on her discerning judgment of people!
How could she show her face now that Darcy had returned? He would recognize her the moment he saw her and would no doubt order her out of the house, if he did not have her arrested for impersonating a servant!
Lizzy paced the room, ordering her heart to stop hammering so loudly in her chest that she could not think.
No, Darcy would not have her arrested – she did not think. Surely that would make him look foolish as well, and she did not imagine he cared to be thought of in such a way.
But she was certain he would order her out of the house – immediately!
Yet how could she abandon her scheme of searching for Sally? She could repair to Lambton, but a young lady staying at an inn by herself would invite the most terrible kind of gossip – or perhaps worse. No, she could not do that.
If she wanted to stay and continue to look for Sally, then she would have to make sure Darcy was not aware of her presence.
Yes, that would be best. Servants were usually not seen, anyway. Not by a toplofty gentleman like Mr. Darcy. And since she was his sister’s lady’s maid, she would probably not run into him at all.
Once she settled that in her mind, she crept toward the closed bedroom door. What were they saying to each other? Why had he come home earlier than expected?
She pressed her ear to the keyhole, and heard two sets of footsteps climb the stairs.
She had not locked the door! If Miss Darcy had a mind to, she could knock on the door and enter. Would she?
To Lizzy’s relief, the footsteps trod past her door, Darcy’s firm tread and his sister’s lighter one.
“I wanted to surprise you,” she heard Darcy explain to his sister.
“You have.” Miss Darcy laughed, sounding delighted. “Oh, Fitzwilliam, I have the most wonderful lady’s maid! She is good at everything! She has even read the same books I have!”
“I must meet this paragon,” Darcy said in a teasing voice, his tone unlike anything she had heard before.
Who was this Darcy? It was certainly not the proud gentleman she had met in Meryton.
Lizzy sank on the bed. He must not meet her!