The Guest | F. Darcy

Chapter 10: Arrival in London

Adele barely stifled a sob of relief as two carriages bearing the Marshall crest rolled to a halt before the Parsonage. Lady Marshall had made the arrangements in advance—Adele was to return to London after spending a respectable number of days in the county. It was sheer fortune that an escape had presented itself at precisely the moment she needed it most.

Yet, she dreaded the moment she would have to face her benefactress, for she knew she would not be able to feign strength. The very sight of Lady Marshall would unravel her, and she could not afford such weakness now.

Her trunks were loaded with swift efficiency, and soon the carriages were ready to depart. Ever perceptive, Lady Marshall had sent a maid as a chaperone, ensuring propriety was maintained.

She endured Mr. Collins's parting bow and allowed him to press a chaste kiss to her hand. Charlotte she embraced tightly, whispering words of gratitude for her friendship. But when she turned to Elizabeth, something in her sister's embrace felt... different.

Hesitation.

Concern.

Elizabeth held her close but kept glancing—almost anxiously—toward the Parsonage entrance. Adele frowned. Was she expecting someone? The thought passed quickly; perhaps it was Richard for whom she waited.

No matter. Whatever the cause of Elizabeth's unease, Adele had enough burdens of her own. She refused to dwell on what she could not change. Soon enough, Darcy would learn the truth, and she did not doubt that the man she had loved for more than a decade would look upon her with the hatred she deserved.

A sharp breath caught in her throat. Her heart pounded.

The letter.

She had left it upon the writing desk.

The moment the words left Miss Elizabeth's lips, Darcy felt his blood run cold.

Adele had left.

For a fleeting second, he did not know what to feel. Anger, perhaps, that she had gone without a word—without affording him the chance to make amends. Or was it hurt? That she had planned her departure so swiftly, so secretly, as though she had never intended to allow him even a moment's redemption? Surely, Lady Marshall could not have arranged a carriage on such short notice. Adele must have written to her well in advance.

The realization stung.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. The woman was infuriating.

"Do you have any notion as to where she might have gone?" he asked, his voice tight with restraint.

Elizabeth pursed her lips in thought but soon shook her head. "I do not. Adele did not tell me of her departure until this morning, and even then, she did not say where she was bound. Only that a friend had sent for her and she would be traveling to them."

A friend.

It was likely Lady Marshall, but there was always the possibility that it was someone else from Adele's London acquaintance. If that were the case, she could be anywhere. Still, if the Season was ongoing, as he well knew it was, then London was the most probable destination.

Darcy straightened, decision settling in his mind.

"Miss Elizabeth," he said with a bow, "I am grateful for your assistance."

Before she could respond, a familiar voice rang out.

"Darcy! Miss Elizabeth!"

They both turned to find Colonel Fitzwilliam approaching them, his expression bright with easy cheer.