Page 47 of The Engagement at Longbourn

Darcy’s face darkened. “Do not call her that to distract from risk.”

“It nearly worked.” Richard knelt beside Lydia. “You have nothing more to do tonight. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“Good.”

He stood.

Darcy held out his hand.

Richard clasped it.

“Be careful,” Darcy said.

“I always am.”

“You are never careful.”

“Then why ruin a fine farewell with lies?”

He left.

At eleven-fifteen, the false commotion began at the Red Lion.

At eleven-twenty, Wickham, Harris, and Cole slipped from their quarters. They had acquired a key to the storehouse from a clerk who thought he had merely misplaced it. Wickham opened the outer door. Cole remained at the corner as lookout. Harris forced the quartermaster’s inner lock with a pry bar. The chest was where expected.

Heavy.

Locked.

Real.

Or so they believed. They carried it out beneath a canvas and loaded it onto a small supply wagon.

One hidden sergeant watched them pass within ten feet.

He did not move.

The orders were to let them leave the camp.

The conspiracy must be undeniable.

Wickham took the reins. Harris climbed beside him. Cole jumped into the back.

They drove south. A quarter mile from the camp, they passed the first hidden rider. Half a mile farther, the road narrowed between hedges.

Richard sat his horse in the darkness beyond the bend with Colonel Forster and eight armed men.

“Now?” Forster murmured.

“Not yet.”

The wagon came nearer.

Wickham was laughing.

Richard recognized the sound and felt something inside him go cold.