Lady Catherine acknowledged the introduction with a nod so cool and slight that it could have been mistaken for simply adjusting the balance of her hat.
“My nephew. Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy. What have you done with him?”
“He is currently in gaol awaiting trial for grand larceny.”
“Inconceivable! And entirely unacceptable. A gentleman of his stature, sitting in a common gaol for a crime he did not commit — it is not to be borne!”
Her indignation washed over Mr. Melbourne as easily as had Darcy’s. Though he maintained his deferential stance, the magistrate was clearly unimpressed.
“Bear it he must.”
“Not any longer. Mrs. Darcy has communicated to me the particulars of these ridiculous charges against him. They have no foundation.”
“Mr. Darcy had stolen diamonds in his possession.”
“Do you know who he is?” Lady Catherine strode closer. Were it not for the great walnut desk between them, she and Mr. Melbourne would have stood nose to nose. “Mr. Darcy descends from a noble and ancient family. He is the grandson of an earl. His estate rivals that of any in England. A paltry set of diamonds is nothing to him. He could not possibly have taken them.”
“The trial will determine that.”
“His great-uncle was a judge. A good one. He knew a false case when he heard it, and this one is as false as they come.” She rapped her walking cane on the floor. “I want these charges dropped.”
Mr. Melbourne stepped back from the desk. “I will not do that. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy stand accused of a grave offense. I take justice very seriously, and so does the assize judge.” His voice had lost some of its power.
“Then release him until the trial.”
“I cannot.”
“Name the price.”
The three small words hung in the air as the startled Mr. Melbourne stepped back a second time. “With all due respect, your ladyship, I hope I have not given the impression that I accept bribes.”
Lady Catherine huffed with impatience. “I am not offering one. I wish to post a bond.”
“No.” Mr. Melbourne repeated the denial with a shake of his head. “If Mr. Darcy forfeits, the judge will hang
“Mr. Darcy will not forfeit,” she declared. “You will have his word and my money as assurance. My nephew would not jeopardize either.”
“Nevertheless, I will not release him into his own custody. The risk—”
“Then release him into mine.” Lady Catherine assessed him. Her gaze took in not just his person, but his surroundings — the document he had been writing when they entered, the law book lying open before him, the statue of blindfolded Justice on a shelf behind his desk.
“I see your position and the faithful execution of its responsibilities are very important to you,” her ladyship said. “Have you trained at one of the Inns of Court?”
“Yes,” he said, pride evident in his voice. “Middle Temple.”
“Most local magistrates are not so well studied in the law. Have you ever aspired to administer justice in a more exalted role?”
The look of interest that flashed across Mr. Melbourne’s countenance indicated that he had.
“You know,” Lady Catherine said slowly, “many people owe their situations to me, either directly or through my influence. It is one of the duties of the privileged to help others find their place. I think your proper place is not here, serving merely as a justice of the peace. No — I believe a gentleman with your veneration for the law ought to be a judge.”
“I consider the bench the most noble service to which one can be called.”
“The lord chancellor would agree. Did I mention that I share acquaintance with Eldon?”
“Indeed?” His tone was nearly reverential.
“But we stray from the subject I am come to discuss. We were speaking not of Lord Eldon, but of Mr. Darcy.” She gave him a meaningful look. “Your cooperation in the matter of my nephew would earn my personal appreciation.”
He was silent a moment as he pondered the offer she had not — verbally, at least — made. “Perhaps,” he said, “in light of your ladyship’s willingness to stand surety for him, some accommodation can be made.”
An expression of satisfaction spread across Lady Catherine’s countenance. “I sensed that you were a reasonable gentleman.”
“Even so, I hope I do not regret this.” He cleared his throat. “There is also the matter of Mrs. Darcy.”
Lady Catherine sighed heavily and cast a sideways glance at Elizabeth. “I suppose I will vouch for them both.”
“Very good.” He reached for quill and paper. “As soon as I have your signature, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy are in your keeping.”
“Admittedly, all did not transpire exactly as I had hoped.”
“We are beholden to my aunt for our limited freedom. We are answerable to her for our every movement. And she is coming back to Pemberley with us until the trial. Who of sound mind would hope for that?”
Like Elizabeth, Darcy kept his voice low. Though they had returned to the privacy of their room at the Golden Crown, Lady Catherine had taken the chamber next door. His aunt had stated an intention to rest after her journey from Bath and liberation of Darcy, but they nonetheless did not wish to chance her ladyship’s overhearing a conversation with herself as the subject.
“At least you are no longer incarcerated.”
They sat by the fire, Darcy in a chair, Elizabeth on his lap. He tightened his arms around her as she leaned against him, grateful just for the ability to talk with her this way again.
“But at very dear cost. You
“I did not know girls were allowed to enter Cambridge.” She sighed. “Perhaps I made a poor decision. But Lady Catherine was the only person I could think of who had the force to sway Mr. Melbourne, the proximity to travel here quickly, and as much interest as we in preventing society at large from ever learning of the matter.”
Darcy knew he could rely upon his aunt to keep silent — in that assumption, Elizabeth had been correct. Lady Catherine de Bourgh would never risk exposure, for the stigma of a family member tried for larceny would blacken her own reputation. But others — Mr. Melbourne and Mr. Chase, Henry Tilney, the audience of laborers at the Golden Crown — also knew of the affair, and they possessed no such motive for silence. He could only hope that Gloucestershire was far enough removed from London that word would not spread.
“Too,” Elizabeth continued, “should diplomacy have failed, I thought perhaps Lady Catherine’s dulcet tones alone could break you out of gaol. Either way, you would enjoy freedom more quickly than Mr. Harper could arrange it. How soon do you estimate we will see him at Pemberley?”
“It depends on whether he stops at his London office upon returning to England. If he receives the second letter I just sent, he will know to proceed directly to Derbyshire. If, having read only your missive, he travels here after landing, the detour will delay him.” Darcy hoped to see his solicitor sooner rather than later, so they could immediately begin working on his case.
“He will be a welcome sight no matter when he arrives. I must confess, even your aunt was, today.” Elizabeth smiled at some recollection. “Darcy, you should have heard the manner in which she manipulated Mr. Melbourne. It was really quite understated for Lady Catherine — a suggestion of future favor, but no actual commitment to ever do a thing for him. Do you expect she will indeed use her influence to win a place on the bench for him?”
“If there is one skill at which my aunt excels, it is putting people in their place.”
A knock on the door forced Elizabeth to reluctantly relinquish her seat. Darcy rose and opened the door to one of the inn’s maids.
“There’s a gentleman downstairs, sir, wanting to see you. A Mr. Tilney.”
Mr. Tilney? Darcy, having just started to relax the constant guard he had maintained since his arrest, braced himself once more. He doubted the visit would prove a cordial one. “Show him up.”
