The Lady's Jewels

by Perpetua Langley

  Lady Castlereagh ignored Mrs. Bennet’s hope. “And here is Miss Jane Bennet, who rode off like quicksilver to procure help on the day.”

  Jane curtsied. Mr. Darcy’s eyes had already passed over her, but Mr. Bingley seemed rather struck.

  “Like quicksilver, you say?” Bingley said softly.

  “And there is Miss Lydia Bennet and Miss Katherine Bennet, though I am not certain who is who. And at the end there is Miss Mary Bennet, who likes to read.”

  Mary beamed at this introduction. She generally spent an inordinate amount of effort and planning to apprise each new person of her acquaintance that she was a very great reader. Here was Lady Castlereagh done the job for her.

  “Ah, and Mr. Quinn,” Lady Castlereagh continued, “I remember you always do like to speak with everybody who was at the scene. Therefore, may I bring your attention to Jimmy.”

  Jimmy and Matthew had just then been approaching to take the horses, Jimmy chewing on a stalk of hay. He spit the stalk to the ground and tipped his cap.

  “Jimmy, you shall understand, Mr. Quinn,” Lady Castlereagh said with a gleam in her eye, “stayed with the empty carriage and guarded it like a badger until it could be removed here. A veritable badger, Mr. Quinn.”

  Jimmy nodded vigorously, as if it must be a badger and not any other creature.

  Mr. Quinn took out his quizzing glass and aimed his discerning eye at Jimmy. “Yes. I see. I will interview him in good time.”

  “I stayed by it, Mr. Quinn,” Jimmy called. “I stayed right by the carriage and nary took my eyes off it.”

  Mr. Bennet, always of a practical mind and knowing Jimmy could be counted on to keep talking for any number of hours, said, “Shall we go in?”

  Elizabeth was not certain that Longbourn’s drawing room had ever held so many people for anything other than a dinner. There was ample seating for all, it being a commodious room, but she was so used to the family sitting in their various favorite spots. On a usual day, Jane and Elizabeth stayed in a sunny corner, far enough away from their younger sister’s inquisitive ears. Now, to accommodate everybody, Hill had moved a large table from the center of the room to against a wall and brought miscellaneous chairs forward.

  While they’d waited for tea to be brought, Mr. Darcy had interviewed Lady Castlereagh on her health after her adventure and the lady had spoken in glowing terms of Doctor Kellerman. Mr. Darcy offered to bring his own man down from town, but Lady Castlereagh did not suppose that man was any better than her own London man. Doctor Kellerman was of a mind to allow her to keep all of her own blood, and she was of a mind to agree with him.

  Mr. Bingley was seated next to Jane and took to asking questions about her riding like quicksilver. Jane assured him that she had only ridden at a modest canter, but he was not at all convinced.

  Tea had finally been served and the various conversations died down. Expectation hung in the air. Now that the men had arrived, some action must be taken.

  “Well, Darcy?” Lady Castlereagh said. “What shall you do?”

  Mr. Darcy, who had so far appeared supremely confident to Elizabeth’s eyes, seemed to falter somewhat upon being asked the question. “There has been some discussion of setting up a war room and examining all the facts. Or, the facts before the facts,” he said. He looked hopefully at Mr. Bingley, as if that man might add something.

  Mr. Bingley shrugged, as if he could not be expected to add anything at all.

  “Perhaps it would be best if Quinn explained it,” Mr. Darcy said.

  Lady Castlereagh turned and looked expectantly at Mr. Quinn. Mr. Quinn, seeing he was to be singled out as the expert on the matter, rose and looked gravely at his audience.

  “What is required, my lady, is a room we can commandeer to commence operations. A war room, as it were. We require a large table, such as that one,” he said, pointing to the table Hill had pushed to the side. “There, we will begin to write out all the facts. The facts of the day in question, and the facts of the days or even weeks leading up to it. It is only by that method that a picture will begin to emerge, insights will be gained, and a path forward will become clear.”

  Mr. Bingley nodded vigorously. “Just like that poor lodger.”

  “I see,” Lady Castlereagh said. “I suppose I feel rather silly, having hoped that you would miraculously know who it was you were after and where they could be found. But I see that was a foolish notion. Oh dear, as more and more days pass by, I become very frightened for the safety of my coachman and grooms.”

  “Indeed?” Mr. Darcy said. “I rather thought they must be behind the mischief. Or at least in league with the thieves.”

  “I will not believe it, Darcy,” Lady Castlereagh said. “Warpole might have made off with my jewels a hundred times before now. And what would he do once he’d taken them? He could not remain in England and if there is one thing I know about Warpole, it is that he despises the whole world, but for England. He would no sooner make himself a Frenchman than he would pronounce himself mad and deliver himself to Bedlam.”

  “Naturally,” Mr. Quinn said, “convicting the coachman would be the easy and obvious conclusion.”

  Elizabeth noted that Mr. Darcy bristled at being accused of reaching an easy and obvious conclusion.

  “Though in my experience,” Mr. Quinn said, “easy and obvious often leads one astray. I must count on Lady Castlereagh’s understanding of her own coachman to convince me that he may not have been the culprit. He may have, but then he may not have.”

  “The question is, Mr. Quinn,” Lady Castlereagh said, “what has happened to him and the two boys with him?”

  “I would not be surprised, my lady,” Mr. Quinn said, “to hear news of those fellows shortly. One thing I have already given much thought to is if the coachman was not involved, how is it that he’s disappeared? Then it occurred to me how it might be. Ransom.”

  “Ransom!” Lady Castlereagh cried. “Of course, that must be it. And so they must keep Warpole and the boys in good health if they are to collect it. My Lord will pay whatever is asked.”

  Lady Castlereagh leaned back in her chair, appearing vastly relieved. “I hadn’t liked to speak of it too very much, I did not wish to burden my hosts with my fears. As you know, Darcy, my Lord always says that one must put a good face on it. Privately, I have been exceedingly distressed in my imaginings of their fates.”

  “I cannot promise that ransom is in the works, my lady,” Mr. Quinn said. “I only say it is a reasonable possibility.”

  “A reasonable possibility that has given me a great deal of hope, Mr. Quinn.”

  Mr. Quinn nodded. “Now Mr. and Mrs. Bennet,” he said, “have you such a room that contains a table as large as the one in this room?”

  “My library would be at your convenience,” Mr. Bennet said, “though my desk is only half the size of that table.”

  Elizabeth could see that Mrs. Bennet made rapid calculations. Her eyelids fluttered ever so slightly as every possible configuration was gone through, all with an eye toward keeping eligible gentlemen very much in their midst.

  “It is settled, then,” Mrs. Bennet said. “You must take over the drawing room. It is the only suitable room for your purposes.”

  Lady Castlereagh appeared gratified by such munificence. “My dear Mrs. Bennet, I am not so certain we can take from you your own drawing room. Where would you put yourselves?”

  “It is no inconvenience!” Mrs. Bennet said hastily. “You shall have the table for your work and there is ample room in other corners for the family.”

  Elizabeth was both embarrassed and excited. She knew perfectly well the machinations that had rolled through her mother’s mind to finally land upon this happy arrangement. Mrs. Bennet would fight through storms and ford overflowing rivers to bring her daughters to the notice of any single gentleman in the neighborhood and certainly would never fail to do so when those gentlemen stayed in her own house. However, if they were allowed to sew quietly in a corner, Elizabeth
would be privy to all that occurred in attempts to solve the mystery. Never had such an interesting thing unfolded at Longbourn and she desperately wished to hear all of it.

  “It is the right sized table,” Mr. Quinn said.

  “There really cannot be any further conversation on the subject,” Mrs. Bennet said with an air of finality. “It must be the drawing room and no other. After all, my girls will only be sewing and reading, inordinately quiet activities that should not disturb you in the slightest.” Mrs. Bennet glanced at Mary. “There will be no playing the pianoforte during the day.”

  Mr. Quinn appeared surprised. “Perhaps, Mrs. Bennet, reading and sewing is how your younger daughters will employ themselves. However, the eldest Miss Bennets were on the scene! The very scene!”

  Mrs. Bennet seemed struck by this notion, though Elizabeth could see perfectly well that her mother did not at all understand what Mr. Quinn hinted at. Elizabeth did not know herself.

  Seeing his meaning had not been taken, Mr. Quinn said, “The Miss Bennets will reveal everything they witnessed. Every sight, every sound. As they do so, more details may emerge in their minds. It is always so. You see, Mrs. Bennet? Your eldest daughters are important witnesses.”

  Elizabeth felt a shiver of anticipation. She and Jane were to be part of it. She had no clear idea of exactly what they should be a part of, but they would not be in a corner, reading and sewing. They would be in the war room itself.

  The whole matter of the war room had been settled satisfactorily by all parties. The table had been moved away from the wall to afford chairs all round. Paper and quills lay at the ready and they would begin on the morrow. Mr. Quinn had impressed on them all that there could be no leisurely breakfast, as he had heard took place in the country. Tea and rolls on the war room table would do.

  Mrs. Bennet had disputed that point but seeing that Mr. Quinn could not be prevailed upon to sit at the breakfast table, she determined that a proper breakfast would be set up on a sideboard in the drawing room. It was unusual, she said, but then one must make allowances for a war room.

  Mr. Quinn remained resolute that he would only take tea and a roll. Mrs. Bennet countered that they would all see if that was so when Mr. Quinn was faced with Longbourn’s bacon, which was reputed to be very good.

  Elizabeth thought Mr. Bingley appeared particularly in favor of the scheme, as he had asked Jane twice whether she was in the habit of being an important witness in a war room. Twice she had said that she was not and twice he had congratulated her on being a witness in a war room now.

  At dinner, Mr. Darcy had been placed to Mrs. Bennet’s right, and Elizabeth was to his right. She thought it was just as well, as her mother was sure to ask an impertinent question before the meal was through and Elizabeth might go some way to altering the direction of the conversation.

  That afternoon, Elizabeth had noted a letter arrived for her mother from her aunt. She did not know its contents, but as her mother had been rather joyous at the reading of it, she could guess that the details of Mr. Darcy’s estate were now known.

  For his part, Mr. Darcy seemed a serious sort, handsome as he was. Elizabeth wondered if he ever permitted himself to be lighthearted. Perhaps, she thought, he was so serious because of the situation he found himself in. He might be a very different gentleman if viewed at his own hearth, surrounded by family and friends.

  “Miss Bennet,” Mr. Darcy said, “I am afraid we have very much inconvenienced your household.”

  “I shouldn’t think of it, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said. “I had much rather be inconvenienced by some interesting event than left to my sewing at my dull convenience.”

  “And do you find Lady Castlereagh’s plight interesting?” Mr. Darcy asked, surprise evident in his tone.

  “I rather do,” Elizabeth said. “Naturally, I was quite distressed at coming upon the lady in such a state. I am still distressed over what might have become of her coachman and grooms and only hope Mr. Quinn’s idea of a ransom is correct. Still, I cannot quite make myself immune to the charms of considering a mystery.”

  “I cannot say with any confidence how charming it will be if the thing drags on,” Mr. Darcy said.

  “But it cannot, certainly,” Elizabeth said. “Lady Castlereagh has assured us that you and Mr. Bingley and Mr. Quinn must solve the case promptly.”

  Darcy smiled ruefully. “I am afraid the lady may have placed too much confidence in my abilities in that direction. We must all be guided by Quinn, I think.”

  “I will be exceedingly interested in this war room of his. I cannot imagine how it will be.”

  “Nor I,” Mr. Darcy admitted. “When last we employed Quinn, Bingley and I remained in London while he raced from place to place and we mostly communicated with him by letter. We executed any little tasks he asked of us, but that was the extent of our involvement.”

  “But do you not find it fascinating?” Elizabeth asked. “To have something wholly unknown before you? To learn of a world that you had not known, in this case, the investigative techniques of Bow Street?”

  “I had rather not learn it as a result of my dear friend being hit on the head.”

  “That is certainly true, but neither you nor I had any way of preventing the mishap. My father always says we must take that which the world dishes out and meet it head on with as much good humor and grace as possible.”

  Mr. Darcy was silent for a moment and appeared thoughtful. He suddenly smiled. “My own father used to say that life was in the habit of giving you what you least expect, and so it would be wise to plan for the unexpected.”

  “Ah,” Elizabeth said. “And so there is the difference between our two fathers—my own is perfectly happy to be surprised and your own would attempt a plan to waylay a surprise.”

  “Mr. Darcy?” Mrs. Bennet said from his other side. “I understand you are from the north. I am exceedingly interested in the north.”

  Elizabeth sighed as Mr. Darcy reluctantly turned. She had begun to enjoy her conversation with Mr. Darcy. They were of a different temperament, of that there could be no doubt, but he was not as stern as she had first made him out.

  For now, Elizabeth would listen to her mama’s words as best she could and interrupt if she felt it imperative, but did not hold out much hope. Mrs. Bennet would get a detailed description of Pemberley before the meat was served.

  Lydia was to Elizabeth’s right, deep in conversation with Kitty. As she had nobody to talk to, Elizabeth looked up and down the table. Mr. Bennet was entertaining Lady Castlereagh with some story or other. Mr. Bingley and Jane were across from her and Elizabeth was delighted with their conversation.

  “Ah,” Mr. Bingley said, “you do like horses, then?”

  “I can only claim real affection for my own horse, Mr. Bingley. Delilah is of a gentle temperament and has never attempted to throw me or gallop off.”

  Mr. Bingley appeared shocked at the very notion. “A horse attempting to gallop off with Miss Bennet? Well, I would…I would have a rather stern talk with such a horse.”

  Elizabeth bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. Mr. Bingley’s gallantry was admirable—it was not every gentleman who would be caught sternly talking to a horse.

  “Then you can have no cause for stern talking with my Delilah,” Jane said, smiling. She glanced across the table and said, “She is an angel, though my sister Elizabeth’s horse, Mercury, is not so reliable.”

  Elizabeth nodded. It was perfectly true that Delilah was an angel and Mercury was mercurial. However, once he was convinced, Mercury could fly across fields and fences while poor Delilah must be let through a gate.

  “I must implore you, Miss Bennet, to vow you will never mount that devil, Mercury,” Mr. Bingley said with fervor.

  At which, Miss Jane Bennet did prettily vow never to ride her sister’s horse.

  Elizabeth leaned ever so slightly to her right, so that she might overhear how Mr. Quinn got on with Mary.

  “Certainly,” Mary said wi
th a confident air, “one’s skills at investigation must equal one’s education. Without knowledge, there can be no discovery.”

  Mr. Quinn waved his hands as if to dismiss the point. “Learning is all well and good. I have quite the library myself and never know which little fact I pick up may prove illuminating. However, Miss Bennet, it is an understanding of human nature that will always show itself invaluable.”

  Mary did not reply, and Elizabeth was not surprised by it. The last thing that interested Mary Bennet were the people around her. They were only the foil upon which she could foist her knowledge. What they were thinking and feeling were the least of her concerns.

  The dinner went on, and Elizabeth did not have much further conversation with Mr. Darcy. Mrs. Bennet quizzed him on everything to do with Derbyshire, once Derbyshire had been identified as the location of Mr. Darcy’s estate. Through all manner of questions, the lady was able to firmly locate Mr. Darcy’s house near the village of Lambton. It was as if Mrs. Bennet were Christopher Columbus, sailing bravely forward to discover the new world.

  Once the geography had been settled upon to Mrs. Bennet’s satisfaction, it was on to the estate itself. Between talking to Lydia, Elizabeth was able to hear that there was a lake at the front of the house that provided good fishing.

  The women had retired to the drawing room, with the exception of Lady Castlereagh, who found herself very tired. Hill led her up the stairs, keeping a close and suspicious eye on Monday and Tuesday, who followed them. The drawing room door had not been closed a moment before Mrs. Bennet rushed to Elizabeth and Jane’s sofa.

  “It is better than even I imagined,” Mrs. Bennet said, “and you girls do know my skill at imagining. Taking your aunt’s letter into account and adding to it that which I was able to elicit from Mr. Darcy, I have a full view of these gentlemen’s circumstances. With the exception of Mr. Quinn. I find him quite the mystery.”

  Elizabeth turned her eyes to her lap. Whatever was to come next, she was sure she should not hear it.