by Jennifer Joy
"But we are in mourning," Jane said weakly.
"Since when do we allow society's expectations to dictate our behavior? I will thumb my nose at any individual while openly proclaiming them to be the worst sort of fool for insisting on prolonging our sadness when life is meant to be lived and enjoyed. You do not know what tomorrow will bring, and I wish you joy every day you are given the gift to continue on this earth."
Jane sprang from her chair, embracing Father and showering his face with kisses. Chloe wiggled between them, intent on receiving more attention than Jane from Father.
As only Jane would do, she apologized at appearing too happy when her dearest sister was, as yet, admittedly not as joyous as she was.
Elizabeth’s wit restored to her, along with her humor at seeing Father returned to his senses and much improved, she said with a saucy grin, "Do not worry about me. I am not afraid of dragons."
Father laughed. "That is my girl. Now, I had best see if my bath is ready. I do not know how you have managed to live here without pinching your noses with clothes pegs, but I thank you for your patience and will assault your senses no further." He set Chloe on the floor. "You, little pest, must have a broken nose. Go find your mistress." He stood by the door and waited for the puppy to leave the room before he went in search of a warm tub of water and soap.
He would be well. Jane would be well. Kitty, Lydia, and Mary would be well. Everyone would be well. No matter the trials and tribulations they might experience, life had a way of continuing on, lessening the pain as the days passed, and even offering small gifts to entice a smile. Happiness always prevailed … and Elizabeth would pursue hers.
Chapter 26
Darcy accompanied Richard and Lord Harvisham back to the haberdashery. Neither of the Burks could remember anything they had not already mentioned, much to their chagrin when there were more coins to gain in the telling.
They asked Mr. Burk if the tables were arranged in the same manner as they had been before the murder, and they examined the edges of the furniture for evidence of a fall.
"This one here would have stopped her fall. I moved the inkwells over to a shelf, but there were three on the table," Mr. Burk offered, greedily helpful to provide any information for which he might see a reward.
"Solid, English oak," sighed Lord Harvisham, knocking his knuckles against the surface. "You did not notice any blood when you polished the table?"
"No. Nor have we found the missing inkwell."
Richard walked over to the window, peering out of the glass. "I see Tanner. Shall we call him in to see if he has met with greater success than we have?"
Darcy cleared his throat to prevent a chuckle. He really should not laugh when Tanner had been given the thankless job of searching through every bush, bucket, and body of water for an inkwell the size of his fist.
"Call for him," said Lord Harvisham with a twinkle in his eye.
Minutes later, Richard returned to the shop followed by a surly, grumbling constable.
Tanner's trousers clung to his legs and his boots bore evidence of having been hastily scraped of mud. Darcy looked away to compose himself.
Richard grinned beside Tanner, as comfortable and warm in his dry clothes as Darcy was.
Lord Harvisham said dryly, "Good afternoon, Tanner. You look … damp."
With a glower, Tanner crossed his massive arms. "Thanks to the pointless task you have assigned to me. How in heaven am I supposed to find one inkwell when we have no indication to its whereabouts? It could be hidden inside someone's home for all we know and have nothing to do with Mrs. Bennet's murder. As if I have nothing else to do." He looked in the direction of his inn.
A snicker escaped Darcy, drawing Tanner's glare to fix on him.
"Aye, you may laugh. You do not have to beat through every bush or search through every pond and mud puddle. You ought to join me in the search on the morrow. I would like to see you laugh then."
Lord Harvisham moved forward, patting Tanner on the shoulder. "I appreciate your thoroughness, Mr. Tanner. I am confident a certain lady will also be grateful when it is found as well."
Mr. Burk, assuming the earl spoke of his own wife, said, "It is true. Mrs. Burk has been most anxious about the missing item. Most of the residents of Meryton are honorable, and we have not had many incidents of thievery in our shop."
Nobody corrected him. They would not spread the news of Lady Lucas' confession until it could not be helped. Tanner knew it too.
Lowering his head and bunching his cheeks in stubborn resignation, he said, "I will begin at first light on the morrow. I only came back when I did to help Mrs. Molly receive the passengers from the afternoon coach. She has been doing much more than her fair share of the work lately."
Darcy looked at his tired, damp, elder brother and was moved to offer, "I will search the Netherfield property with what daylight remains of today and first light tomorrow. I only have one brief call to make before I may begin."
Tanner heaved a sigh. "I am much obliged."
Richard, too, added, "I have a special interest in this search. Tell me where you have yet to look and I will go."
Uncrossing his arms, Tanner relaxed his shoulders. "Is there anything else I need to know? Any new developments?"
Darcy looked at Lord Harvisham, who shook his head and said, "No. We can manage for now while you warm yourself by the fire. Mrs. Molly will be glad to see you."
It made Darcy proud to see how seriously Tanner took his responsibilities, but it was clearly time for his brother to rest. Darcy and Richard would pick up the slack while Lord Harvisham spoke with the villagers in their search for the truth.
Tanner bowed his leave, once again ensuring he was no longer needed before departing. He stepped to the side on reaching the door to allow passage to Mr. Thorne. Tanner, who had not attended services in years, moved past him gingerly, crossing the square in long strides to distance himself from the vicar. The heathen.
"Mr. Thorne, how good to see you," greeted Mr. Burk, quick to attend a potential customer.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," said Mr. Thorne. "Is all well?"
"The truth will soon set us free from our conundrum, dear sir," replied Lord Harvisham. "What brings you here?"
The vicar blushed, looking down at the floor with a pleased smile on his face. "Mrs. Thorne reminded me of an important event in our history together when she recently presented me with a token of her affection to celebrate the day we married. I thank the Lord in heaven every day for blessing me with such a righteous, caring woman for a wife."
"Congratulations! How many years of wedded bliss are you celebrating?" Lord Harvisham clapped the vicar on the back vigorously.
"Ten years. What sort of gift is appropriate for that amount of time? I had hoped to seek out Mrs. Burk's counsel, but I would appreciate your opinion as well." Mr. Thorne looked at Lord Harvisham.
Darcy caught Richard's eye. It was time for them to depart. There was nothing else to be found in the haberdashery, and they had an inkwell to find. Had Tanner not looked so miserable, Darcy would have regretted his offer. Bingley had three small lakes on his property. Darcy would ask a few trusted servants who would require no explanation to help him, but he would have to do most of the dirty work. It would be a long evening.
Taking their leave, they rode to Longbourn where Mr. Bennet received them in his study in good spirits. Darcy caught a glance of Elizabeth and was gifted with a smile which he would remember with each squishy step in the mud during his search for the inkwell.
Departing from Longbourn, they galloped to Netherfield Park where Bingley's butler greeted Darcy with a message.
It was from Mr. Hammond, a notable doctor in London.
"When did this arrive?" Darcy asked, waiting to break the wax seal until he could read the letter in private.
"It was delivered by messenger a quarter of an hour ago."
"Thank you." Darcy signaled for Richard to follow him to Bingley's library. He had grown r
ather fond of that room. It held many pleasant memories, and Darcy needed something good surrounding him before reading what the doctor had to say regarding his inquiries.
Closing the door behind them, Richard asked, "Is it about Anne?"
Cracking the seal, Darcy examined the tight, neat handwriting covering the page. If the doctor was as efficient in his practice as he was with his letters, he would do well.
Darcy read quickly, then handed it to Richard while he organized the new information and its consequences in his mind.
Dropping his hand to his side, Richard said, "There is hope. This is good news."
Darcy was inclined to think so. "We only have to convince Aunt Catherine of it."
Richard's contented expression faded. "She will not approve. She is too much a creature of habit to agree to what he suggests."
"And yet, we must convince her. If Anne is to have any future, we must be persuasive and pray the doctor's optimism is justified in her case." There was no time to lose.
Sending for Lawrence, for they could delay no more in the search for the missing inkwell either, Darcy asked for him to assemble a few of the most trustworthy servants at Netherfield Park and begin the search. He would join them as soon as he had seen to Aunt Catherine. The cold water of the lakes would cool him after what was sure to be a heated confrontation.
To Richard, who shuffled his weight from one side to the other in anxiety, Darcy suggested, "Perhaps your energy is best spent assisting Miss Lucas' family.”
"Thank you, Darcy. Are you certain you do not need me? I hate to leave a man behind when he must face the enemy."
"She is not so much the enemy as she appears to be. I have had my man busy making inquiries since Aunt's horrible display at Longbourn." If what his man said was true, and Darcy had no reason to doubt him — he had never erred before — then Aunt Catherine's desperation was understandable, albeit dramatic.
"What did he find?" asked Richard.
"Allow me to speak with her first, and I will tell you everything I know."
"Very well. I will return when the darkness prevents any further searching." Returning the letter to Darcy, Richard marched out of the library.
Darcy read the letter again, taking confidence from Mr. Hammond’s words. It would be a drastic change, but if it helped Anne, it would be worth the effort. His words suggested freedom — for Anne and for Darcy.
On inquiring, Darcy found Aunt Catherine and Anne in the music room. They were alone, Miss Bingley having been cut to the core from Aunt Catherine's comments against her and choosing to avoid any further humiliations.
Anne held a book, her finger skimming over the page as she read. Aunt Catherine stared blankly at the piano as if she heard the ghost of music past.
Darcy crinkled the paper in his hand and cleared his throat so as not to startle them as he stepped across the carpeted floor.
Anne looked up and smiled weakly, casting a worried glance at her mother. "How is the day treating you, Darcy? You appear to have the weight of the world on your shoulders."
She always had been too insightful. Darcy had thought he carried his burdens better than she implied. He straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin.
"There have been some advances in the case. It would appear you are no longer under suspicion." He would say nothing of Lady Lucas, but neither would he allow his aunt to believe she might be found guilty. He would never insist she reveal her secret publicly when she had kept it from her family and closest friends for the better part of a year.
Aunt huffed. "I never should have been under suspicion in the first place."
"Mother," Anne reprimanded, "you insulted a lady and threatened her in her own home. Of course you were under suspicion."
"Do not agitate yourself, Anne," warned Aunt Catherine.
Anne's eyes roved around the room. "I feel strong today. I only have these episodes when I am overly tired. In fact, I feel well enough to attend services on the morrow. I am eager to see the people you have told me of in person."
"I would rather you not."
Before they could forget he was in the room, Darcy held up the letter. "I received a reply. A doctor who is in charge of a sanatorium ascertained the nature of my inquiry, and he writes with encouragement. He even relates a successful case similar to your own by way of comparison."
"A doctor who can treat patients like me? You are certain it is not a lunatic asylum? You are certain you penned your inquiry in such a way so as not to imply my condition too directly?"
It had taken every ounce of Darcy's intelligence to structure his inquiry in such a way as to suggest at the falling sickness without committing to it should the doctor prove to uphold the common views most held. That the doctor was able to reply in an equally misleading manner without the fear of misunderstanding was a testament to his intellect.
"I am certain. I only sent my inquiry based on the excellent reputation the doctor has earned in our circles. Richard can attest to it as well. He read my letter before I sent it, as well as this reply."
Aunt Catherine held out her hand, waving it in the air impatiently. "Let me see."
Darcy handed it to her. She turned the pages over, her pale face coloring when she saw the name.
Ripping the paper in half, she proceeded to shred them while Darcy looked on in astonishment. He did not stop her, for there was nothing in the letter he had not already committed to memory, but the violence with which she shredded the paper captivated his attention as much as it did Anne.
"Mother!" she exclaimed.
"Measure your breaths, Anne. Do not agitate yourself." Aunt Catherine, not content to have shredded the letter to bits, thrust the tiny pieces into the fire.
What had she seen to cause such a reaction? It had to have been the name. She had seen nothing more.
“You know Mr. Hammond?” Darcy asked.
"How dare you!" Aunt Catherine stood before him, stretching to her full height so that the feather in her turban towered over Darcy.
Her refusal to be forthright was growing tiresome. "Explain yourself, Aunt. What objection do you have to Mr. Hammond?"
She stepped forward, and he swatted the assaulting feather away.
Her complexion reddened. "Do not say that name in my presence. I would sooner die than have a Hammond assist my daughter."
Now, that made him angry. "You would deny Anne a future to satisfy your foolish pride?"
She clamped her mouth shut and lifted her chin, standing as firmly as an unyielding statue.
"Hammond is the doctor's name?" Anne asked quietly, her jaw mulling from side to side and her eyes narrowing. "I have heard that name."
Aunt Catherine turned on her. "That name is nothing to us. We will have nothing to do with it."
Anne's bright eyes loomed wide against her pallid skin. "If he can help me, then I will go so far as to act against your wishes, Mama. Now that my secret is known by my cousins, I trust them to convey me to London to Mr. Hammond as soon as the hearing is done and we are free to depart."
"You would not dare!"
Anne rose. "You have been ill for months. I have been sick for a lifetime. I have hidden away and followed the treatments given to me by our trusted family doctor whose ways are so antiquated as to belong in a museum. He has drained enough blood from me to give life to another person and if I have to look at another leech, I shall scream in frustration. No, Mother, it is time I took my life in my own hands. On Monday, after the hearing, I will go to London in search of the doctor. You may come with me, but I will go regardless."
Darcy wanted to applaud Anne's bravery.
Aunt Catherine did not — or, more probably, could not — say anything until Anne left the room. Her bold speech had exhausted her.
Stabbing his cravat with her pointy fingernail, Aunt Catherine said, "I blame you for this. Anne has never dared defy me before."
Her refusal to accept a solution other than her own filled Darcy with pity. "Perhaps, then, it was time."<
br />
He left her standing by the fire, sending for Mrs. Jenkinson so Aunt would not be alone while he joined the servants outside to search for a missing piece of the puzzle in Mrs. Bennet’s murder.
Chapter 27
Elizabeth let her vision wander, the vicar’s sermon fading to unintelligible babble in her ears, to where Lady Catherine sat with her daughter, Miss de Bourgh. At first sight, Elizabeth felt Mr. Collins' comments on Miss de Bourgh’s appearance highly unjustified. Elizabeth saw nothing aristocratic nor extraordinary about the lady. Such catty thoughts passed quickly through and just as swiftly out of Elizabeth's mind, dismissed completely when she remembered how perilously that lady's life hung in the balance. She could no more resent her for her mother’s attempts to conceal her illness than to blame her for falling ill.
Kitty reached over and squeezed her hand, drawing Elizabeth's attention away from Miss de Bourgh and to the vicar. He would read the banns soon. Elizabeth squeezed Kitty's hand in turn and smiled at her father.
The transition from doom and gloom in Mr. Thorne's sermon to the happy news of a hopeful couple soon to marry was a welcome change. Elizabeth heard a collective sigh from the parishioners gathered.
Elizabeth kept one eye on the vicar as he read Kitty's full name aloud, and her other eye on Lady Catherine. She would not put it past the lady to object just to give her family trouble.
The vicar paused, looking around his congregated flock for exaggerated seconds. Seriously, did he want someone to oppose?
Elizabeth felt Lady Catherine's glare on her person, and she returned it in full force. If she distracted the lady long enough, it would be too late for her to make a scene.
William must have had the same idea. Elizabeth noticed how he had arranged to sit beside his aunt. His shoulder covered hers, though there was enough room for them to sit comfortably. If she meant to rise, she would have to shove him to the side to do so. What a fine man.
