by Jennifer Joy
Aunt Catherine and Anne were engaged in conversation, leaving Mrs. Jenkinson off to the side to feign as if she was not listening. Aunt Catherine, who had been in a snappy mood all day with Darcy, hardly acknowledged him as he walked in. Richard followed closely behind him, and the distraction proved to be enough for Darcy to sit down on the other side of the couch, next to Mrs. Jenkinson.
In a voice loud enough for Aunt Catherine to overhear, he said, "I have some questions I should like to ask you. Might I speak with you in the morning at your earliest convenience?"
Mrs. Jenkinson's cheeks crinkled up, pushing up her eyes until only slants appeared on her face. "Of course, Mr. Darcy. What delicacy of manners to ask about my convenience. That is very kind of you, when you know very well that if you ask to meet early, I would have to acquiesce."
Darcy smiled kindly at the woman. He did not know much about her history, but she had been in Anne's company ever since she no longer required a governess. Living in the de Bourgh household could not be easy for her.
Aunt Catherine resumed talking about whatever it was she was talking about with Anne, and Darcy added under his breath, "I wish for Anne to be there as well. Could we meet in her sitting room at eight in the morning?"
He chose that hour knowing that Aunt Catherine was never disturbed from her slumber before the hour of nine. That should give them plenty of time to discuss matters and for him to depart before anyone noticed. He would not have Aunt Catherine believing that he had proposed to Anne.
With a fleeting glance behind her, Mrs. Jenkinson said with a twinkle in her eye, "That suits me well, and when I tell Miss Anne, she will be pleased to know your reason for calling."
Darcy's face fell. How could she possibly know his reason for calling? Unless she thought he was coming to propose. He shook his head and opened his mouth to clarify, but could utter no words without causing an unnecessary scene. The butler announced that dinner was ready, and he had no further opportunity to talk with Mrs. Jenkinson.
Aunt Catherine had a good deal to discuss with them at the table during the course of the meal.
"I received a letter today from Mrs. Baxter. She is the owner of the shop in town. Apparently, my suspicions were well-founded about Miss Lucas and Miss Bennet. They robbed her of one of her most expensive magazines after Miss Lucas artfully flustered Master Baxter with her coquetries. Mrs. Collins returned the magazine as if nothing awry had transpired, which was all the proof Mrs. Baxter needed. She saw fit to inform Mrs. Collins of the transgressions of her house guests, and she wrote to me that Mrs. Collins appeared to be sincerely ignorant of the goings-on of her own household. In my mind, that is just as grave an error. I take it as my responsibility to know everything transpiring in my household and in Hunsford. It is my duty to be aware and give counsel where needed."
Darcy noticed every pause and intake of breath as his aunt spoke. He asked no further questions, as Miss Elizabeth had already told him in much greater detail what had transpired. "What do you intend to do with this new information?" he asked when she had finished her rant.
"Conduct such as this, especially from family and friends of my parson who is to be an example in morality, cannot go unpunished. I have decided that it is time that we call at the parsonage on the morrow. They must know who they answer to or else risk losing their place at the Hunsford parsonage."
Never mind that a parson was answerable to God. Aunt Catherine would make sure they understood where their loyalty and devotion lay.
He swallowed a mouthful of wine. "At what time do you intend to call?"
"Certainly not before ten. Though what I have to say is of great importance to them, I would not hasten to bear ill-tidings."
"Ill-tidings?" asked Darcy, his sense of foreboding increasing by the second.
"Of course. Depending on what we find tomorrow, they will have to leave. I will not have a thief on the property."
"You do not think that Mr. or Mrs. Collins stole the diamonds, do you?"
"Of course not. But I have made it no secret to you that I highly suspect their guests of committing the crime against me. Though I dislike Miss Bennet’s outspoken character, I think that the fault lies with Miss Lucas. A fashion magazine seems too frivolous for one as plainly dressed as Miss Bennet. If we find Anne's earrings on the premises, then they would have housed a criminal in the home I graciously improved for them to live in. I could not in good conscience or my fair sense of justice allow them to continue dwelling there when there are others more worthy to fill the role of parson in my parish."
"Find the earrings? Do you mean to search the house? Was Mr. Collins' search not enough?"
"Initially, I trusted Mr. Collins to do a thorough job of searching his home. But that was before I had reason to doubt his loyalty. Perhaps his wife has tainted him to believe that he should seek out her advantage rather than that of his patroness. His lack in judgment will not go unnoticed by me. Or unpunished. No, Darcy, we must conduct the search ourselves to ensure that it is done properly. My reaction will depend a great deal on our findings.”
“I can go with your housekeeper and save you the trouble,” he suggested.
Before he had time to hope, she answered. “Absolutely not. The search must take place under my direction and instructions. If the earrings are found, I will waste no time in dismissing Mr. Collins from his position and Miss Lucas shall be sent to the constable to be dealt with properly.”
The food on Darcy’s plate lost its flavor. They would not find the earrings at the Collins’ home. Of that he would bet his fortune. But he had to accompany Aunt Catherine while she insisted that their home be searched. Any trust Miss Elizabeth had in him would be lost. She would see him as the villain coming to accuse her and her friends of a crime he knew none of them could have committed. Still, he could not let Aunt Catherine go alone.
Chapter 25
Darcy walked on the balls of his feet down to the door of Anne's sitting room. Aunt Catherine would not awaken for another hour. However, he did not trust her not to catch him entering Anne's room at the worst possible moment, thus increasing her expectation and making his refusal to propose even more awkward.
He had spoken to Richard after dinner, and they had decided that one of them needed to talk to Mrs. Baxter about what had happened at her shop. Since Darcy was to go to the parsonage that morning, Richard volunteered to go into the village.
The door was open and Mrs. Jenkinson stood by the door, ready to receive him.
"How glad I am to see you, Mr. Darcy. I have been waiting for this moment too many years. Her ladyship will be pleased." Her congratulatory smile made Darcy feel guilty that he could not correct her misunderstanding the night before.
"I am afraid that you mistake my reason for calling. I have not come to propose, but rather to inquire about Anne's missing earrings."
Mrs. Jenkinson raised her hand to her mouth, and her eyebrows bunched together in confusion. "Oh, dear me. I apologize, sir. I had assumed…" she lowered her hands, wringing them in front of her. "I had assumed that, after all these years of waiting, that…. Well, never mind what I thought. It is of little import." She turned abruptly, leading him to the seating area where Anne was comfortably settled on her couch.
As her companion of many years sat beside her, Anne reached out to take her hands, holding them between her own. "My dearest Mrs. Jenkinson. You have been so good to me, but there are some things I prefer to keep to myself. However, it is time that you know that I have no intention of marrying Darcy. I do not love him, nor does he have affection for me."
Darcy could see the multitude of questions coursing through Mrs. Jenkinson's mind, but she knew her place too well to ask them. Only one question did she allow herself the indulgence to ask, "What will her ladyship say when she finds out?" Her voice was a low hush.
Raising her head, Anne said, "You leave Mother to me. All I ask is for your support."
Patting Anne's hands and taking a deep breath, Mrs. Jenkinson nod
ded resolutely, "You know that I will do whatever you bid me. You have become like the daughter I never had, and I would do nothing to jeopardize your happiness."
The women smiled at each other, and it brought comfort to Darcy to know that his cousin had a friend in the household. Aunt Catherine would not take kindly to their news. Not that they ever were engaged, but in Aunt Catherine's mind, their marriage had been eminent since Anne's birth, and she had thought of the scheme.
Darcy cleared his throat. Now that the misunderstanding had been clarified, he had some questions for Anne. "I requested to see you because of what you said yesterday. You said that your earrings had not been stolen; that it was all an unfortunate misunderstanding. What did you mean?"
Anne looked down at her lap, then all around the room— anywhere but at him.
"It was true. At the time, my earrings had not been stolen. I had… misplaced them." She looked up at him, willing him to ask no more, which, of course, only made him all the more curious.
“Misplaced them? Anne, please do clarify.”
“It happens all the time. I am rather careless sometimes,” she said in a rush.
"Why did you not say anything?"
"I tried to, but once Mother had heard and alerted the whole household, it became increasingly difficult to set matters straight. When all of these horrid accusations mounted, I spoke up only to find that my earrings really were gone! Mrs. Jenkinson and the maid searched where I indicated to them. Just to make sure, I also searched on returning to my room."
“They really are stolen, then?” he asked.
“I hate to say it aloud, but it is so. They are gone.”
"Whom do you suspect?" asked Darcy.
Anne's eyes grew large. "I really have no idea."
Darcy sighed. "I am to accompany Aunt Catherine to search the parsonage today. Do you have any reason to suspect any of its residents?"
Anne considered, her face growing long as a thought struck her. "Miss Bennet and Miss Lucas were here with me when my maid found my earrings. I had misplaced them as I am wont to do, and Miss Lucas found them. Hortense put them away that instant."
Darcy looked through the doorway. Anne's jewelry box was arranged on top of her chest of drawers in the corner of her room just visible through the frame of the door. But the jewelry case was not where Anne had sent her maid to look for the earrings.
"If your lady’s maid put the earrings in the case, why did you instruct her to look for them in your desk?" he asked, looking between Mrs. Jenkinson and Anne.
Mrs. Jenkinson shrugged her shoulders and looked to Anne.
Anne picked at the lace trimming on her long sleeves. “It was foolish of me, and I know it. I had every intention of speaking plainly to Mother, but could not find the appropriate opportunity to do so. She has been incredibly agitated of late. So, I hid them where nobody would look until I could speak to her.”
“Nobody knew the earrings were in your desk?” he asked for confirmation.
“It is a locked drawer. Not even Hortense or Mrs. Jenkinson knew. I do not see how Miss Bennet or Miss Lucas could possibly have known they were there— much less stolen them without the key.”
Darcy was well-aware that Anne left out some details. He could only pray that they were unnecessary. Surely, she would not allow someone innocent to take the blame. Why could she not speak plainly? What was she hiding?
Exasperated, he asked, just to be certain, "Did anything in Miss Bennet or Miss Lucas' manners make you think that either lady is capable or desirous of stealing an article of value?"
"No. I enjoyed their visit whilst waiting for the doctor and, had my health allowed it, I would have made more of an effort to become friends. Miss Bennet has the kind of outspokenness and ease of opinion which I admire greatly. Miss Lucas is a sweet girl, who I suspect does not get away from Hertfordshire much." Anne smiled at the mention of the girl. Darcy had to agree with her and, with the exception of illness, could see several similarities between her and his cousin.
Mrs. Jenkinson nodded in agreement with Anne. "The two young ladies have been a welcome addition to our usual company, and I would hate for anyone to defame their name. I cannot freely share my opinion in front of her ladyship, but I find it difficult to give much credence to her suspicions toward them. Unless the earrings are found in their possession, I would not give much credit to it."
Darcy was happy to hear that others doubted their guilt.
"Very well." He slapped his hands against the top of his thighs to stand and take his leave.
He had not fully abandoned his chair when Anne's door opened from the hallway without so much as a knock. When he saw who stood there, he almost fell back into the cushioned seat.
Aunt Catherine had her hands clasped at her breast, a calculating smile on her face. "And so it has finally come to pass!" Entering the room, her stiff silk gown swishing with every step, she gave Anne a kiss on the cheek. Her display of parental affection startled Anne, and Darcy inwardly groaned.
She next took him by the hands, holding them between her own, the stones of her rings digging into his flesh. "We can talk to Mr. Collins about reading the banns. He will be happy to oblige, and given his precarious position here, he will be overjoyed to have an opportunity to render service to me."
Darcy could not let her continue. "I have not come to propose, but rather to ask my cousin and Mrs. Jenkinson some questions regarding our visit to the parsonage this morning."
Withdrawing her hands as if she had touched unwashed linen, her smile vanished into a cold countenance that bode ill for the day.
"Oh. I see. You did not see fit to alert me to your intentions, but you thought it best to sneak around, so that I would not know what you were up to?" She looked between him and Anne, dividing her blame evenly between them.
Anne wilted in her chair, blanching where only minutes ago she had beamed contentedly at her mother's kiss. Darcy had not seen Anne smile since he had spoken with her and Richard in the garden. Had she enjoyed the same healthy glow to her skin as Miss Bennet, she would have been noted in all of Kent for her beauty.
"I had every intention of discussing our conversation here with you once you were awake and seeing people." There was truth in that, though he had hoped that she would not find out about his visit at all. He had hoped to avoid the scene which was presently transpiring in Anne's sitting room.
"Mother, I feel a headache coming on. Will you please excuse me? I must lie down." Anne departed, followed by Mrs. Jenkinson.
Alone in the sitting room with his vexed aunt, Darcy clenched his fists at his side. The anger he felt toward the woman standing before him choked the words he might otherwise have spoken. So, he stood— angry and silent.
"Have you nothing to say for yourself? I am horribly displeased with your conduct in my home during this visit. You give every indication that you mean to propose, yet you refuse to do so. Why have you prolonged your visit if it was not to spend more time with Anne? Why would you arrange to meet her, and secretly I might add, if you have no intention of declaring what you know very well it is your duty to declare?" Aunt Catherine's icy eyes bore into him, demanding answers he could not give her. No matter what she would threaten him with, he could not marry her daughter. His heart belonged to another.
"Do you ask in earnest, or is this another attempt to get what you want through the implementation of the guilt you suppose I should feel?" he asked slowly, measuring each word before he spoke. He would not risk any more misunderstandings.
She sniffed and lifted her chin.
"I wish Anne great happiness, but she will not find it with me. She has made that clear, and I suggest you take more of an interest in her wants than in forcing her to bend to your will. As for me, my heart will not be denied. I love one woman, and I shall love her until my last breath, though she would not have me."
Aunt Catherine stepped back, horror stricken. "You would waste your life and your fortune on someone so undeserving as to refuse
an offer from you? Why would you want such a woman as a wife?"
Thanking the stars above that Aunt Catherine had not asked who the object of his affection was, he said, “I cannot give up hope that I might win her heart yet. She is worth the struggle.” Before she could ask anything further, he bowed. “If you want to leave at the assigned hour, I must attend to some business.” Never mind what business that might be, but it needed attention. He was done answering her questions, and he would not degrade Miss Elizabeth by speaking of her to someone who did not appreciate affairs of the heart. It was only wasted breath against a brick wall.
Chapter 26
It came as no surprise to see Lady Catherine's opulent coach with her family crest emblazoned on the side stop in front of the parsonage.
Mr. Collins yelled from his book room facing the road, "She has come!" He came out of his study— the happy, self-satisfied smile of a man ignorant of the goings-on of his own house covering his oblivious face.
Charlotte looked up from her knitting. She was finishing a pair of socks for baby feet in an ambiguous yellow color. Elizabeth had not thought to ask them who they were for until that moment, then felt guilty for allowing her thoughts to be so distracted that she had not thought to do so until the worst possible moment. She would ask later.
Maria, who had neglected her white work the past day, set aside the novel she had attempted to read between dreamy-eyed stares out of the small window and her audible sighs.
Elizabeth put away her quill and papers, setting them on top of the table near the sewing box in Charlotte's sitting room.
Standing up in unison with her friends, they went into the front parlor. Charlotte looked nervous, as did Maria. Mr. Collins knew nothing of the stolen magazine, and Charlotte had hoped to keep it from him.
One look at Lady Catherine's face as she descended from her carriage with the help of Mr. Darcy increased her anxiety all the more. She squeezed Charlotte's hand on one side, and Maria's on the other.
