Page 129 of A Debt Inherited

Bennet felt the words like a hand upon his throat. Darcy did not move.

“To Miss Bennet?” Darcy asked.

Wickham’s gaze flickered between them, eyes narrowing. “Darcy may satisfy himself that the lady lives. Payment may then be arranged. Every hour of delay shall cost you.”

Darcy folded the note. “I shall come.”

“Alone,” Wickham said.

“Mr Darcy is not a parcel to be handed over at your convenience,” Bennet said.

Wickham bowed slightly. “Then Miss Bennet is not a parcel to be returned at yours.”

The room went still. Bennet heard the clock in the hall, the faint creak of the window frame, the blood beating once in his bad leg.

Darcy said, “I shall come as surety until the money is called for.”

Wickham looked at him for a long moment. “Then we understand one another.”

“I doubt that,” Darcy said.

Wickham gave a thin smile and turned towards the door. “I shall wait in the paddock.”

The door closed; the latch settled.

For one breath Bennet did not trust himself to speak. Then Darcy moved to the window and looked down towards the drive.

“You will see Elizabeth,” Bennet said.

“I will.” Darcy’s gaze swept the grounds twice over. His face gave nothing away when he turned back to Bennet.

“How shall she know to trust me?”

Bennet beckoned him nearer and gave him the words. Darcy listened without interruption.

“That will do,” Bennet said. “She is her father’s daughter.”

Darcy bowed his head once. “I shall do all in my power.”

Bennet held his gaze. “Then I must be content with that.”

At the front door, Darcy paused and looked down at the gravelled sweep. “May I trouble you for a small canvas bag?”

Bennet followed his gaze. “For a weapon?”

“No. For a message.”

Bennet gave the order quietly. Hill bowed and withdrew.

“You cannot go alone.”

“I shall not be alone for long.”

When Hill returned, Darcy took the canvas bag and stepped onto the drive. He bent, filled it by handfuls from the gravel, and tied the mouth with a quick, hard knot. Stone struck stone with a dull, serviceable weight.

Barty came to his side.

Darcy lowered his voice. “Remain here. Await Colonel Fitzwilliam. The first stone will lie at the lower turn beyond the field.”