Darcy's Trial

by M. A. Sandiford

  Helena was suddenly alert. ‘No, there has been no further problem of—that kind.’

  The unspoken words since my father’s death hung in the air, and after an uncomfortable silence Elizabeth took the plunge. ‘Helena, there is something I need to discuss with you. It concerns a maid who left your family’s employ a few months ago. By chance I have become acquainted with her since she is now working for my aunt. Her name is Bertha. Bertha Dobbs.’

  ‘Oh!’ Helena blinked with shock, her previous confidence now revealed as a veneer, and Elizabeth was careful to conceal her alarm as the girl fought to regain her composure. ‘But how …’

  ‘Don’t worry, Bertha is quite well,’ Elizabeth replied quickly, trying to sidestep the issue of how this coincidence had come about. ‘She has fitted well into my aunt’s household, and is now accompanying me on my travels as my maid. At this moment she is with her mother, whom she has not seen since the spring.’ She paused a moment to gauge Helena’s reaction, before continuing: ‘Bertha told me that she filled in sometimes as your ladies maid, and liked working for you.’

  Curiously, this approving report from a servant seemed to calm Helena. ‘I’m pleased to hear she is safe and well.’ She looked away, and in a small voice said: ‘I do—worry.’

  ‘About the welfare of girls who have had to leave?’

  ‘Yes. The trouble is …’ Helena leaned forward and dropped her voice. ‘Usually they would simply disappear. With no warning, I would be told that they had left suddenly, and a chambermaid like Bertha had to fill in until a replacement was found. Did that happen to you too?’

  Taken aback for a moment, Elizabeth recalled just in time that while visiting Helena in London, she had laid claim to a similar experience. ‘Yes, it’s most upsetting, especially when it happens with no warning and no explanation.’

  ‘There was one maid in particular.’ Helena looked dreamily into the distance. ‘Her name was Lucy Clover. She joined me last summer, promoted from chambermaid, and we got on very well. From the beginning I loved the way she styled my hair, and her taste in selecting the right clothes for each occasion. Then one evening after we moved to London in December, Mrs Partridge told me that she too had left.’

  ‘Were you able to discover why?’

  ‘Mrs Partridge hinted that Lucy had done something wrong, but could give no details. This upset me so much that I asked my father.’ She reddened. ‘He was angry and said I should not concern myself with the servants, and that the house was being run with my best interests in mind.’

  ‘But you were not being critical,’ Elizabeth said gently. ‘You were only sorry to lose Lucy, and concerned for her future welfare.’

  Helena frowned, as if this favourable interpretation of her behaviour had never struck her, then nodded. ‘That is still how I feel.’

  ‘Have you tried asking Lucy’s family?’

  Helena thought for a few seconds. ‘They live some way outside Wistham but I suppose I could visit easily enough. To tell the truth, the idea never occurred to me. You must think me very foolish.’

  ‘Shall we go tomorrow morning? Apart from anything else, it might make a pleasant outing if the weather is fine.’

  Helena was suddenly enthusiastic. ‘I would like that very much.’

  Chapter 24

  Next morning, still favoured by fine weather, they set off after breakfast in a curricle, driven by the groom Abel Harte who obviously had Helena’s full trust. After an evening spent talking of pleasanter matters, and a good night’s sleep, Elizabeth’s spirits were restored to their normal optimism. Yes, the chances of success in her enterprise might be small, but at least there was some hope, and for the time being she had a clear plan and a base from which to operate. She also had her luggage, which a servant had retrieved from the inn; however, with her dresses creased and in need of washing she had taken advantage of Helena’s offer, and was now robed in a light muslin dress that was a little long but otherwise a good fit.

  As they left the estate, a tall thickset man approached riding a large bay horse. He halted to await their arrival, and Harte, also slowing down, called out: ‘Good morning, Mr McGill!’

  Acknowledging this with a grunt, McGill lined up his horse with the back of the carriage and greeted Helena with a bow of the head.

  ‘Miss Kaye.’ He switched his gaze to Elizabeth. ‘I see you have company this morning.’

  Helena blinked uneasily, as if this was some kind of accusation, but managed to reply in a steady enough voice:

  ‘My friend Miss Bennet visited yesterday, and will be staying a few days. Elizabeth, this is Mr McGill, who is my father’s—I mean, my brother’s gamekeeper.’

  Sensing that McGill was a man of few words, Elizabeth merely smiled and nodded, making no attempt to engage him in conversation. He paused a few seconds, then shifted his gaze back to Helena. ‘It must be a pleasant change to have a friend here, Miss Kaye. Was Sir Arthur aware that Miss Bennet was planning to visit?’

  Elizabeth shivered, partly from the reference to Helena’s brother, but also because she found McGill’s even monotone unnerving. She decided to reply on Helena’s behalf. ‘He cannot know yet, Mr McGill, since I passed by on impulse, without prior arrangement. However, Sir Arthur and I have been introduced in London, so we are already acquainted.’

  ‘And where are you bound on this fine day?’

  Helena glanced anxiously at Elizabeth. ‘Mowsley Lake …’

  ‘For a picnic!’ Elizabeth said brightly, pointing back to the hamper.

  ‘Then I’ll not be delaying you any longer.’ With a tug on the reins, McGill pulled the bay round, and set off at a gallop in the direction of the house.

  Temporarily upset by this encounter, Elizabeth remained silent until they passed through Wistham village, where she leaned across so that the groom would not hear, and asked: ‘How long has Mr McGill worked for your family?’

  ‘He came about ten years ago, just before mother died …’ Helena’s voice faded away as she completed this sentence, and Elizabeth waited a few seconds for her to rally.

  ‘He must be well-regarded if he has stayed so long.’

  ‘My father spoke highly of his loyalty.’ Helena dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘It used to scare me to see him with his rifle, and such a stern expression. I hate to think of him trapping and killing animals, although I’m told it is necessary. But fortunately our paths cross infrequently. I meet him occasionally on the road, that is all.’

  At Mowsley Lake they left Harte alone with the curricle, and proceeded on foot to a hamlet half a mile further on, where Helena became suddenly indecisive. At a crossroads Elizabeth spotted a carter approaching, and ran to ask directions.

  ‘Lucy.’ The man scratched his bald pate. ‘You won’t find her here, ma’am. She’s left these parts a year or more. Doesn’t live here no more.’

  ‘We’re looking for her family,’ Helena said. ‘Mrs Clover.’

  He pointed to a row of small stone cottages. ‘On the end, like. Nearest to us. You see, right there. Mrs Clover. She’s Lucy’s ma, like. But the girl, Lucy, she left these parts long ago. Doesn’t live here …’

  ‘Thank you, I understand you perfectly.’ Struggling not to laugh, Elizabeth took Helena’s hand and they made their escape from the carter. The end cottage had the benefit of a larger garden, where a small thin woman with greying blonde hair was kneeling at a vegetable patch collecting lettuce thinnings. The woman stood as they approached, gathering the thinnings in her apron, and bobbed awkwardly.

  Helena stepped forward. ‘Mrs Clover? I’m Miss Kaye from Wistham Court.’

  ‘I know, madam. Lucy pointed you out at the village fair.’

  ‘I’m sorry I’ve never visited before.’

  ‘I wouldn’t expect that, madam, us being so far out.’

  ‘By the way, this is my friend Miss Bennet.’ Helena moved a step closer. ‘Can we have a moment? I wanted to ask about Lucy, who as you know used to be my maid.’

&nb
sp; The woman reddened. ‘I’d ask you in, madam, but since I wasn’t expecting a visit …’

  ‘We can talk here,’ Elizabeth said, pointing to a bench in the yard.

  Mrs Clover hastened to the kitchen with her load, and returned with a three-legged stool which she placed beside the bench. ‘Have you news of Lucy?’

  Helena shook her head. ‘Mrs Clover, Lucy was an excellent maid and we got on very well. I was upset when she left suddenly last year, and tried without success to find out where she had gone. Do you have any idea of her whereabouts?’

  Mrs Clover reddened again, and in whisper replied: ‘None.’

  ‘Were you informed that she was no longer working for Miss Kaye’s family?’ Elizabeth asked gently.

  ‘Mr Pritchett called.’ Mrs Clover’s face creased up with pain. ‘He said my daughter had misbehaved in London and been dismissed.’

  ‘My father’s steward,’ Helena explained to Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth nodded. ‘And did Mr Pritchett say where Lucy went after her dismissal?’

  ‘He said they offered to bring her back to Wistham, but since she ran away there was nothing further they could do.’

  ‘Was the nature of this alleged, ah, misbehaviour explained?’

  Mrs Clover’s eyes moistened. ‘She was never a bad girl, not when I raised her.’

  Helena leaned forward and touched her arm. ‘That was also my experience, Mrs Clover. She performed her duties conscientiously and never said or did anything improper.’

  With this, Mrs Clover burst into tears and ran into the cottage, returning seconds later with a cloth to dab her eyes. ‘Sorry, madam. It’s just so—heart-rending to hear you speak well of her.’

  They stayed a few minutes more, allowing Helena the opportunity to elaborate on Lucy’s accomplishments, before taking their leave with the promise that they would pursue the matter further—and a warning that in the meantime it would be best not to mention it to anyone else.

  Back at Mowsley Lake, Harte had already laid out the hamper on a blanket, and was seated on a short nearby jetty next to his net and fly box, trying his luck at fishing for carp. With excitement Elizabeth opened the hamper and pulled out a series of intriguing parcels which Helena unwrapped: bread, drumsticks, pears, cakes, even a bottle of white wine with a corkscrew and two glasses. Suspecting that the wine might calm Helena’s nerves—not to mention her own—Elizabeth poured two generous portions, clinked glasses, and they tucked in.

  After refilling Helena’s glass, Elizabeth decided the time was ripe for a further foray into delicate territory, and asked:

  ‘Helena, what do you think happened to Lucy? Do you think she ran away as Mrs Clover was told?’

  Helena frowned. ‘She had no reason to run away, except …’

  ‘Yes?’ Elizabeth was tempted to propose a reason herself, but was afraid that Helena would comply with anything she suggested—in which case she would learn nothing.

  Helena dropped her voice, although the groom was too far away to hear. ‘My father had begun to notice her and pay her compliments.’

  ‘How old was she?’

  ‘Sixteen. She had silky fair hair, and I remember once my father ran his fingers through it and told her how pretty she was.’

  ‘Did she like these attentions?’

  Helena shook her head. ‘She tried to hide it, but I saw she was terrified.’

  Elizabeth looked into the distance, observing a flock of geese that had just landed on the far bank. ‘Helena, I have an idea about what might have happened to Lucy. Would it upset you to talk about it? I realise this must be painful for you, especially so soon after your father’s death.’

  Helena looked uneasy, but whispered: ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘It seems that your father, like many gentlemen, was in the habit of, ah, having his way with girls that took his fancy. We know this because of what happened to Bertha, which led as you know to the duel. Bertha has told me how this came about. Sir Osborne found a pretext for taking her to a house owned by a woman who rented rooms. In a remote bedroom on the upper floor he undressed her by force, and—well, you can imagine. This had not happened before, so Bertha was shocked and frightened. She believed she had been taken there to do a cleaning job. The rest you presumably know. Another man heard her cries and broke into the room. After your father left, he looked after Bertha and took her to her aunt’s house.’

  ‘Mr Darcy,’ Helena said, still in a whisper.

  ‘Yes. However, Mr Darcy’s intervention was mere happenstance, so we have to consider what would have happened to Bertha if your father had been left undisturbed. I think there are two possibilities. First, he might have brought her back to resume her duties, with a warning that she would be punished and dismissed if she spoke of her ordeal. Or, if he thought she could not be bullied into compliance, he might have dismissed her straight away. In that case, I think it would have served his interests to place her in someone else’s keeping, so that she could not make herself a nuisance. For instance, he could have given or sold her to a bawd …’ She glanced at Helena with a slight grin. ‘Are you familiar with that term?’

  Helena also grinned, to Elizabeth’s surprise, and quoted: ‘Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds, the better to beguile.’

  ‘Was that in Hamlet?’

  ‘Act one scene three,’ Helena said. ‘Polonius to Ophelia.’

  ‘My word, you are an enthusiast.’ Elizabeth noticed again how Helena’s expression softened whenever she was praised. ‘Anyway, we cannot say for sure whether Bertha was taken to a bawdy house, or simply to the house of a somewhat unscrupulous landlady who might have numbered bawds among her acquaintances. However, I think it likely that this is where she would have ended up, but for Mr Darcy’s intrusion. And to come back to Lucy, I think she might have been taken to the same house—or somewhere similar— and left in the care, if that is the right word, of a woman who would either preserve her for your father’s subsequent use, or offer her services to other gentlemen.’ Sensing Helena’s distress, she touched her arm and continued gently: ‘I’m sorry to be so explicit.’

  ‘She was so kind to me,’ Helena said through tears. She looked up. ‘Elizabeth, do you think there is any chance …’

  ‘Of locating Lucy and helping her? Yes I do.’ Elizabeth swallowed as this implausible reply slipped out; in reality, she feared there was little hope of tracing Lucy. ‘However, what I have been saying is partly guesswork. We need to find out as much as we can from the other girls who were dismissed.’

  ‘Do you know who they are?’

  ‘Bertha gave me some names. Maggie, for instance, in Midhurst, or Ellen who might still be living in Wistham. Would you like to visit them this afternoon?’

  Chapter 25

  That night Elizabeth remained awake until the early hours reviewing the events of the afternoon. As hoped, the interview with Maggie had proceeded quite differently in Helena’s presence, and a sordid tale emerged of repeated journeys to a cottage just outside Wistham, ostensibly equipped for ‘guests’, with a double-bed and a well-stocked drinks cabinet, but actually a refuge where Sir Osborne could accost his victims in privacy. Unfortunately Maggie knew nothing of Lucy Clover’s whereabouts, but she had heard rumours of a similar establishment in London from which girls never returned.

  The other maid, Ellen, was no longer living in Wistham, having found work on a neighbouring estate. With a little persuasion her mother confided a story similar to Maggie’s, except that Ellen had left without being dismissed and then suffered an early miscarriage, so that the pregnancy never became common knowledge.

  After returning from Midhurst they sent Harte back with the curricle, and made their way around Wistham village on foot. First they visited the infamous cottage, which although empty looked neat and well-maintained. They also paused for refreshment at the inn, where Elizabeth noted the times of passing stagecoaches towards Leicester and thence London.

  Back at Wistham Court, Elizabeth went directl
y to her room and wrote a letter to be sent by express to Darcy House.

  Dear Mr Darcy

  With a certain event just a few days away I think it urgent that you prepare evidence on Sir O’s character, which might be revealed in all its splendour if you interrogated Mrs Y in regard to all her interactions with this gentleman, in particular concerning one Lucy Clover who disappeared last summer after serving as HK’s maid.

  I am returning tomorrow with evidence of two more deeds of a similar nature for which I have statements from the victims or their parents. I can also identify the cottage where these ignominies took place.

  Sincerely, EB

  Joining Helena before breakfast, Elizabeth explained her plan to collect Bertha later that morning and depart for London.

  Helena looked crestfallen. ‘But Elizabeth, why must you leave so soon? Are you uncomfortable here?’

  Elizabeth returned her most reassuring smile. ‘On the contrary, dear Helena, you have displayed exceptional hospitality, and helped me more than you could possibly know. But I have pressing business in London of a—personal nature, and regrettably can stay no longer.’

  Helena frowned, and Elizabeth wondered whether she was plucking up the courage to enquire into this business of a personal nature. In the event Helena remained silent, accepting Elizabeth’s vague explanation along with her decision. Guiltily Elizabeth observed how easily the girl could be led; indeed, for two days now she had facilitated Elizabeth’s investigation into her father’s activities without once questioning her friend’s motives. From Helena’s perspective, it was if Elizabeth had been helping her, Helena, to understand what had befallen Lucy Clover and the other maids. Darcy’s impending trial had never been mentioned.

  Ever obliging, Helena offered to accompany Elizabeth in the curricle as far as Wistham village. By now Elizabeth’s clothes had been washed, and assisted by Helena’s maid Agnes she quickly changed her dress, packed the carpet bag, and descended to the forecourt. Here she expected to find the groom Abel Harte driving the curricle, but instead she was faced by a man she had never met.