by Jennifer Joy
Mr. Darcy appeared grave indeed.
Mr. Collins opened the door before they could knock, such was his eagerness to receive his beloved patroness.
"What an honor that you should call at my humble home, Lady Catherine. Such a privilege is worthy of the finest refreshment we are capable of offering, though it be nothing in comparison to the bounties proffered at your table."
Calling the maid, he ordered that she bring in some tea and the little bit of sugar he allowed himself to indulge in for the benefit of one who had little appreciation for their frugality. Not once had he offered sugar for their tea at the breakfast table.
Sitting in the chair he normally sat in, Lady Catherine said, "Some news from Hunsford has been brought to my attention, Mr. Collins. It seems that you have not taken care to oversee your household in the manner expected of one in your position." She stopped to breathe, her manners agitated.
Mr. Darcy continued before she could. "Our inquiries of the household staff are complete, and it only befits a thorough investigation to question the remainder of those who have visited Rosings since the diamond earrings went missing. That has led us here."
Lady Catherine glared at Mr. Darcy, but Elizabeth could not help but rejoice at how effectively he had cut her off. She looked down at the floor in an attempt to hide her smile. She was certain that one lady in the room would find it incredibly inappropriate.
Feeling someone's eyes piercing into the top of her head, she looked up when she had regained her composure. Lady Catherine glowered at her as she continued, "As my nephew pointed out, we have come to investigate. Now, Mr. Collins, I know that you effected your own search recently, so I know that you will have no qualms when I recommend another one. When your maid returns with our tea, I will instruct her to search each room along with my most trusted housemaid under Darcy's watchful eye. I will remain here until the search is complete." No doubt enjoying her tea and sugar as the house was ravaged yet again in a search for something that would not be found.
Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy. He hid it well, but the tips of his ears had turned red. So, she was not the only person in the room to be shamed by her family. This newfound discovery comforted her, and when he met her glance, she smiled encouragingly to him. It was how she would have preferred he react before the crass comments of her mother, the excruciating indifference of her father, the over-exuberant displays of poor instrumentation by Mary, and the blatant flirtations of her two youngest sisters. She would be kinder than he had been, for though he witnessed the worst her family had to offer, he still saw fit to respect her and Jane. He had misunderstood Jane, but he was not so proud to have refused her correction, though poorly given. His honor and sense of justice had set the problem right. All of this, and Elizabeth had no doubt that he had come with Lady Catherine not only to offer his assistance in the investigation, but to soften her cantankerous blows to those who would be most affected by them. Elizabeth's respect for him grew as surely as her breath escaped her in his presence.
Charlotte said, "Mr. Collins, I suggest that we let Miss Elizabeth accompany the maids as they look upstairs. Maria and I shall remain with you as you entertain our guest. Do you mind, Miss Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth knew what Charlotte was about. Several times in Meryton, she had suggested that Mr. Darcy preferred her, and she knew of his proposal. If Lady Catherine suspected any such thing, she would surely object. But she did not. She seemed to be glad that she would not have to endure her company any longer than necessary.
They entered the first room— her own— and Mr. Darcy spoke, "Miss Elizabeth, I must apologize for my aunt's behavior. She is convinced that we will find the earrings here today. She has even ordered an older carriage to wait outside so that her own coach might not be corrupted by having a thief transported to the village constable in it. She shall leave here disappointed."
The thought of her bringing two carriages was so ridiculous, Elizabeth tried to stifle a giggle. Not completely successful, she covered her mouth to keep the noise down. She did not want to get Mr. Darcy into trouble by drawing Lady Catherine's attention upstairs.
Under Lady Catherine’s maid’s watchful eye, Betsy searched everywhere. Mr. Darcy, too, watched but had the delicacy to turn his back when she got to certain articles of clothing, saying that he trusted the maids’ judgment when they declared that nothing was found.
"If I ever am tempted to steal valuable jewelry, Mr. Darcy, I shall know where to hide it," Elizabeth teased, trying not to feel awkward standing in the room where she slept. She knew that— considering the gravity of the situation— she ought not to make light of it, but she could not help herself.
With his lips curled upward, he said, "You ought not say such things, or else I will suggest that Aunt Catherine conduct the search herself."
Raising her hands up, she said, "Pray do no such thing. I am not afraid of her, but Charlotte would be miserable." The mention of her friend's name and the seriousness of Mrs. Baxter's accusation against Maria made Elizabeth ask, "Has Lady Catherine's opinion of my cousin and Mrs. Collins changed in any way lately?"
Mr. Darcy's smile melted away to show his concern. "Mrs. Baxter sent her a message. I surmise you know what she wrote."
Elizabeth nodded. "It was a foolish mistake made by a silly girl offered more freedom than she is accustomed to. She has learned her lesson, and she is not the kind to repeat the same mistake."
"Do you think Miss Lucas capable of stealing worse?" he asked.
"Absolutely not. She is a girl who has never stepped off the straight and narrow path. When opportunity and temptation collided, it proved to be too much. But I can tell you in all truthfulness that her conscience has tormented her since. The experience startled her so greatly, she will never allow herself to stray again. I believe that with all my heart."
That seemed to be enough to convince Mr. Darcy. As they moved to Miss Lucas' room, the search continued in the same manner. Attention was given to every detail— not that there was much to give with the room's simple furnishings.
After some moments in nervous silence, as they oversaw the search of Miss Lucas' room, Elizabeth asked, "Mr. Darcy, do you think your aunt has any inclination toward dismissing Mr. Collins from his responsibilities as the rector? I have been quite anxious on the subject of late." Wringing her hands, she waited longer than she had hoped for him to respond.
She wanted him to reassure her that nothing was amiss; that his aunt, for reasons unknown to anyone else, would act like a friend toward her cousin and his wife; that her worry was unheeded. But no such reassurances came.
His silence answering more clearly than any words he could have pronounced, Elizabeth pursed her lips to keep her tumult in check.
Turning toward her, he reached out as if he would touch her gloveless hand. He stopped himself just in time, leaving Elizabeth's fingers twitching. She clasped them together.
"Miss Elizabeth, I do not for a moment believe that the earrings will be found here. Thus, your friend's home is secure. It is, and has been, my firm opinion that the earrings are merely a ploy used by my aunt to keep me here. Otherwise I should have left a week ago."
He had proposed a week ago. Regret filled Elizabeth's heart as she saw the hurt in his eyes, the same expression he wore before stepping out of the front parlor. He remembered too. Would she answer differently now? Now that she had cast her own prejudices aside to see the man as he really was? The speed with which she had accepted others' gossip and snide remarks shamed her, and she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She was glad he had stayed and honored that he cherished her good opinion enough to explain his actions in a letter. But, he would have gone…
Her throat felt tight, but she asked the question, "You would have gone? So soon?"
Mr. Darcy's head rose to give her his full attention; his expression was one of hope.
Lady Catherine’s maid pronounced firmly, "There is nothing here, sir. Shall we inspect the master's room next?"
Mr. Darcy nodded, never once looking away from Elizabeth. She felt warm from the intensity of his gaze.
She tried to pay attention to the actions of the maid, but it grew increasingly impossible not to look at Mr. Darcy. He did not even attempt to distract his gaze, his mouth open like he wished to say something but was uncertain how to proceed. Elizabeth, unlike herself, found that she had no words either. So much could be said, but how to begin? This was hardly the time or place, and there were other matters which demanded their complete concentration.
Her attention was caught as Betsy held up a collection of baby bonnets, gloves, socks, and gowns on a chair on Charlotte's side of the bed. There was enough there for a newborn.
As realization hit, she reached out and smacked Mr. Darcy across the arm in her shock. How had she not seen it before? "Oh, I do apologize. The realization hit me rather violently," she tried to justify. She could not help but appreciate how solid he felt under her touch.
Mr. Darcy rubbed his arm and chuckled. "Thank you for the reminder that I ought not stand so close." Dramatically taking a large step away, he smiled and continued rubbing where she had hit him.
Playful banter felt much more comfortable at that moment than the serious thoughts she had entertained over the past few minutes. She embraced the humor wholeheartedly.
"It is the best of news, and now that I see the evidence, I wonder why I did not see it before. Look at the clothes on the chair."
Mr. Darcy nodded with a happy smile. "The only way to be certain is to confirm it with Mrs. Collins herself. It is all the more reason to end this search and this nonsense with my aunt so that Mr. Collins' position is secure and no harm is done to your friend's security."
Conspirators in their newfound knowledge, they returned downstairs of lighter heart than when they had gone up.
The Rosings maid looked to them for instruction, clearly wanting her work to be over, so that she could attend to her normal tasks.
"Since it is the ladies whom her ladyship suspects, let us go into the sitting room," suggested Elizabeth once they stood in the front parlor. Curious faces looked toward them. All except Mr. Collins, who soliloquized on the advantages of raising their own pig over buying butcher meat. Lady Catherine appeared bored and ready for any interruption on the subject on which she had advised Mr. Collins several times. As if she were an expert on raising livestock.
Mr. Darcy was left no option but to interrupt Mr. Collins to inform them, "We have found nothing, nor do I suspect we shall."
Lady Catherine harrumphed, and Mr. Collins continued, switching from swine to his precious rose bushes in the front garden.
Charlotte's room being small, and having little besides some chairs, a table, and her sewing box to occupy it, the maid did her work quickly. Not that anybody besides Lady Catherine thought she would find anything.
The great lady, growing tired of the one-sided conversation in the parlor, soon waltzed into the room to admire the recent improvements she had given the space. She inspected the paper on the walls and set about telling Charlotte how better to arrange the room.
"I wonder why you should choose this room in the back of the house for your use. The light is not so good as the front, and I wonder how you are able to do any needlework, reading, or writing in here," she commented, unconcerned with the fact that she was the one responsible for the positions and proportions of the rooms.
"Mr. Collins needs the daylight much more than I do for his reading. That is why I chose this room for my own particular use. However, I do spend a good deal more of my time in the front parlor. The window seat you added was such a lovely detail," said Charlotte smoothly.
Satisfied, Lady Catherine continued about the room. "Darcy, are we done? There are other matters which require my attention at Rosings."
The search was being called to an end. Glory be!
Interrupting Elizabeth’s high humor at Lady Catherine's attitude toward the Collins, the Rosings maid said, "There is only the sewing box in the corner to check."
The maid, determined to complete her assigned task no matter how fruitless, moved Maria’s white work draped over its lid and flipped the top open to rummage through the bits of lace and thread neatly arranged in their compartments. When she reached the buttons, she froze. She looked as if she had come upon a cockroach hidden in the buttons.
"What is it, Betsy?" asked Charlotte, thus sending her housemaid over to see what the fuss was about.
Betsy peeked into the box, then backed up against the wall, speechless.
Everyone stood fixed in place, wondering what could have affected the women so greatly.
Elizabeth, unafraid of unsightly insects, walked over to the box and her heart felt like it would leap out of her chest. Mixed into the buttons, she saw a set of sparkling diamonds.
Chapter 27
"What is it, Lizzy?" asked Charlotte. Elizabeth heard her steps crossing the room to join her.
Spinning around to face the audience, which now included every inhabitant of the house as well as their visitors, Elizabeth reached into the box to grab the earrings with one hand and held her other out to stop anyone from nearing.
With one regretful look at Mr. Darcy, she addressed Lady Catherine. "I know where the earrings are, but I will not give them to you until I have your promise that what I am about to reveal to you in no way affects the inhabitants of this parsonage."
Lady Catherine balked. “Whose white work is that on top of the case?” she asked.
Ignoring her question, Elizabeth repeated, "Do I have your promise?" Trying to add more weight to her negotiation, Elizabeth held the earrings out in front of her, pinching the tops so that the delicate diamond drops dangled and cast rainbows against the wall. Everyone admired her find, but she pulled her arm back so that they were out of reach. She would not risk them being snatched away until she had secured Charlotte's home.
“Elizabeth—,” started Mr. Darcy, his hand held out as if he would help her.
How she cherished hearing him call her by name, but it was a dreadful mistake.
Lady Catherine, her face red, looked between the two of them. “I see,” she hissed.
A hush pervaded the room. Elizabeth watched as the heat in Lady Catherine’s aspect chilled. In a voice as cold as ice, she asked, "Do you really think that you have the power to negotiate? It is obvious to me who took the earrings and hid them away in her sister's sewing box. You have made it clear through your speech and example that you possess none of the accomplishments a lady capable of doing fine white work has." She cast a withering stare at Maria, who did her best to disappear in the corner she stood in.
Raising her head and steeling her voice, Elizabeth said, "Yet, I am the one holding the earrings. On my honor, I will not give them to you until I have your promise that the Collinses' position under your patronage remains unchanged."
Mr. Darcy stepped toward his aunt. In a calm voice, he said, "The earrings are worth much more than the price of this harmless promise. You have no doubts about the devotion of Mr. and Mrs. Collins."
The color of her complexion soothed, Lady Catherine, never one to give up the final word, said, "I will promise that Mr. Collins continues here with his wife so long as word of the events of the past few days does not spread. There is something particular I should like to discuss with you and him.” Her eyes glinted in satisfaction at Mr. Darcy. Looking overly pleased with herself, she said, “I have a carriage outside to haul the thief to the village constable. Darcy, be so kind as to escort Miss Lucas out to the carriage."
Worry filled Elizabeth. What scheme had Lady Catherine conjured in her mind, so that she agreed so easily? Elizabeth sensed that she had complicated matters for Mr. Darcy. Oh, when would she make a decision that did not lead to disaster? She clutched the earrings in her hands.
Maria, as white as her neglected embroidery, sunk to her knees before Mr. Collins, who stood next to her, could react. Mr. Darcy helped her into a chair. It was all Elizabeth could do to not
allow her eyes to linger on him. She had a horrible presentiment that he was lost forever to her. That would please her ladyship.
Forcing down her anxious thoughts, Elizabeth focused on Charlotte. Her dear, sweet friend of many years held a handkerchief to her mouth as tears ran down her hands.
Elizabeth begged Lady Catherine, "Why do you assume Miss Lucas committed the crime? It could not possibly have been her doing."
"I am not a fool, Miss Bennet, and I thank you not to insult my intelligence. I know that Miss Lucas stole a valuable magazine from Mrs. Baxter's shop. I know she had access to Anne's room and was present when her diamonds were put into her jewelry box. She knew where to find them, and she hid them in a place so open to the other members of the parsonage, they were sure to remain undiscovered unless I insisted on this search. That, Miss Bennet, is why she must go to trial to pay for her crimes against me. Now, hand over the diamonds." Her words came out like the crack of a whip, and Elizabeth flinched every time the lady pronounced her name with such derision.
Maria rocked back and forth in her chair, weeping loudly, unable even to defend herself. Charlotte, Elizabeth could see now, had rallied her strength and would soon make her stand against her patroness in defense of her sister. Elizabeth could not let her fall into disfavor with Lady Catherine— not at the price of her home when she was convinced that her friend's family would have a new member before the end of the year. Not while it was in her power to prevent it.
"No!" she exclaimed over the weeping and exclamations in the room. "You cannot send Maria away when it was me who stole the earrings. It is me you should send away, not her!" Her chest heaved, and she blinked her eyes furiously to hold the tears back. She would not cry in front of Lady Catherine.
Mr. Darcy stepped forward, his hands out, but he stopped himself short, the emotions on his face changing as quickly as Elizabeth could feel them in her own breast. She whispered so low, only he could hear. “I am sorry.”
