Mr. Darcy's Daughter

by Rebecca Ann Collins

  Back at Matlock around the table that night, where Mr Carr and Mr Wickham had been invited to join the family at dinner, the conversation was, quite deliberately, of matters other than the death of Andrew Jones.

  Richard and Cassy were eager for news about Jonathan and Anna Bingley, and Darcy was keen to tell of his conversations with Mr Colin Elliott, who was highly esteemed as a courageous Reformist, while Lizzie and Mr Carr were persuaded to provide the company with some gentle entertainment at the pianoforte. After weeks of anxiety and strain, the family enjoyed the simple pleasures the evening afforded them. The relief after days of uncertainty was palpable.

  Watching them from the corner of the room, where he had sat seemingly lost in thought since dinner, FrankWickham may well have been wishing for a similar life in a quiet domestic environment. It was the sort of normal, happy family life of which he had very little experience.

  Suddenly, there was a loud knocking at the door. Thinking it had to be amedical emergency, for no one else would call at such an hour, Dr Gardiner rose, as the door of the drawing room opened to admit two officers of the local constabulary.

  There was immediate silence, so quiet as if everyone had stopped breathing. Each person in the room had their own private explanation for this intrusion and none of them could have anticipated the news they brought. A man, a certain John Archer, said the senior officer, had given himself up. He had confessed to the accidental killing of Mr Andrew Jones.

  There was general consternation around the room.

  "Who," asked Darcy,"is John Archer and how is he involved in this?"

  Dr Gardiner explained briefly and then asked the police officers,"Has he given you details of how this 'accidental killing' occurred?"

  "He has, Dr Gardiner, but they cannot be revealed until they are either corroborated or contradicted by a witness."

  "Corroborated by a witness? Does Archer say there was a witness to this accident?" Richard asked, somewhat bewildered by this statement.

  "Not to the whole of it, sir, but there was another person involved, at least for some of the time, Archer says, who can confirm that he was there when the incident took place."

  "And might one ask, who this person is? Not any one of us, I do not think?" Richard was increasingly concerned by the direction of this conversation.

  "No sir, none of the persons in this room is in any way implicated," said the officer, looking round at the gathered company,"but, we are here, because we must have a statement from the witness. We know she is here, not in this room but perhaps in your staff quarters. The person concerned is Margaret Baines."

  "Margaret?" said Lizzie, clearly shocked.

  The officer nodded,"Yes, Miss Gardiner, only Margaret Baines can corroborate Archer's statement. Indeed, he has alleged it happened because he went to her aid, when she was attacked by Mr Jones, on the path above the quarry. He claims she called out for help and he responded to her appeal."

  Lizzie rose and ran from the room and her mother followed her out, while Dr Gardiner sent for the housekeeper, who was requested to fetch Margaret Baines.

  At this point, Mr Carr, Darcy, and Frank Wickham, feeling awkward and intrusive, strolled out onto the terrace, leaving Dr Gardiner and his wife to deal with the police and Margaret Baines.

  Mrs Gardiner returned and sat beside her husband on the couch by the fire.

  Margaret Baines entered and was invited to seat herself on a low chair beside her mistress. The police officers sat stiffly before them and asked her questions, which she answered without hesitation. Previously, she had told the story of her brief association with Jones, but had made no direct mention of John Archer, unwilling to implicate him in any way.

  Now, however, as they questioned her about the incident in the woods, she revealed more of what she had already told her mistress. She told them of the evenings she had walked home through the woods and the occasions on which Andrew Jones had walked with her. She told them how she had, on one occasion, noticed a man following them and had told Mr Jones of it, but he had been unconcerned, she said.

  After she had discovered the man was John Archer, she had been afraid of being exposed by him and losing her job, she admitted. Relating the frightening experience of her final encounter with Jones, she revealed for the first time to the police the struggle she had heard taking place after she had broken away and fled from him.

  It took very long, because Cassy insisted that the girl be given time to answer their questions in her own way. Finally, it was done.

  The inquest, they said, would take place next week and Mrs Gardiner had to guarantee that Margaret Baines would attend, tell her story, and be prepared to be questioned by the coroner. Which Cassy, having glanced at her husband and seen him nod, agreed to do. Margaret would continue to stay with the Gardiners until her appearance before the coroner.

  As soon as they were gone, Cassy, having cautioned Margaret to say not a word about her statement to the other servants, sent her directly to her room. Mr Carr had already taken his leave, taking Mr Wickham with him, and Darcy had long gone to bed, more confused than ever.

  Cassy then went upstairs herself to reassure Lizzie and hoping to improve her own understanding by discussing the situation with her husband.

  Richard was tired, too; it had been a long day, but he took time to explain to his wife what would be the most likely outcome.

  "It is difficult to imagine a more extraordinary case than this one has turned out to be," he said, shaking his head."For Archer to confess to the crime is a singularly brave thing to do. He is facing certain transportation or jail for the term of his natural life."

  "Unless the coroner believes he did genuinely intervene to save Margaret from a dreadful fate at the hands of Mr Jones," said Cassy, who had not previously given much thought to Archer's fate.

  "Of course, but is it likely? Jones was the son of a wealthy London family with important business and social connections. They will be well represented. Archer comes from a family of simple tenant farmers. He has had some education and has worked for one or two prominent families in London, but there is no comparison, is there? And not a great deal of hope for him, unless the coroner is a man of absolute integrity, who is not influenced by these matters."

  His wife was not quite so pessimistic and believed that the coroner may well believe Archer's story, especially when heard in conjunction with Margaret's statement."I do hope you are wrong, dearest. It seems so unfair," she said, hoping in her heart that Margaret's evidence would not be used to hang or transport a man, who had indeed acted to save a young woman from molestation, albeit somewhat precipitately and with terrible consequences for Mr Jones. Despite her reservations about Archer, Cassy could not believe he deserved such a fate.

  * * *

  The week following, Margaret Baines, modestly and soberly gowned, accompanied by her mother and the attorney, presented herself at the offices of the constabulary and thereafter attended the coroner's inquest.

  There, John Archer told his story on oath, for all to hear.

  He claimed he had loved Margaret Baines, though she knew nothing of his feelings; he had intended, he said, to apply to her mother first, for permission, before approaching the girl. But, he had loved her since the days when he, as a young man, had lived on the Pemberley Estate, before he had gone to work in London.

  On his return he had hoped to find employment, marry her, and settle in the area, he said, speaking seriously and with such a degree of openness that he had to be believed. That was until he saw her with Mr Jones walking in the woods, he said. Asked if it had made him jealous and angry, he admitted to jealousy but denied anger, saying he knew little of Jones to make him angry at the time.

  Later he had made enquiries about him from contacts in London and on learning"the man was a swindler and a notorious deceiver of young women all over town," Archer said, he had decided to follow the pair, chiefly"to ensure the girl got into no trouble" because he did not trust Jones.

 
; He had followed them undetected for almost two weeks, during which time, he claimed"nothing untoward occurred," until the day he had seen Jones kiss the girl, when she had broken away and run from him.

  It was the day Margaret Baines had first spotted him, he said, but he didn't think she had recognised him.

  Asked if he was, by then, both angry and jealous, he admitted that he was.

  Asked if he wanted to assault Jones, he denied that this was so.

  "I was concerned for Margaret. I was glad she had got away. I was also happy to see that she did not welcome his advances," he said in reply."I knew then she did not care for him and I was very glad of it. But I was sure he would not take no for an answer. His type never does."

  Continuing, Archer told the coroner that, on the following day, he had stayed well hidden and managed to follow the pair, to the point where they had stopped on the path that ran along the lip of the quarry. He had remained at a distance, concealed by a dense thicket. There, as they stood, the girl had spoken in a low voice.

  Archer said he could not hear her words, but then, he had seen Jones reach out for the girl, draw her towards him, attempting to fondle and molest her, whereupon, she had struggled and cried out for help. As he had rushed out towards them, she had broken free of Jones and escaped into the woods. Archer then claimed he had rushed at Jones"in a rage, like a madman" shouting at him, and Jones, taken by surprise, had struck out at him with his stick. Archer said he still carried the bruise upon his shoulder, a fact that was confirmed by the police.

  Archer had carried no weapon, not even a stick, he said. In the ensuing mêlée, he had struck out with his fists and Jones had fallen to the floor and then, as he rose and lunged at Archer again, he had tripped and, losing his balance, fallen over, tumbling headlong down the face of the cliff into the quarry below.

  Asked by the coroner if he had done anything to help the man or to verify if he was alive, Archer shrugged his shoulders and said it was a long way down and the light was almost gone. He had peered over the edge, but had neither seen nor heard anything, he declared.

  "You heard no cry for help?" the coroner asked and Archer swore he had not. As he spoke, without emotion, Margaret Baines sat, her face red with embarrassment, her eyes downcast, blowing her nose from time to time on a large handkerchief provided by the attorney. Her striking auburn hair glowed in the light flooding in through a high window behind them, and each time Archer looked at her, he seemed to be gazing at her hair. Cassandra could not help wondering at his feelings for Margaret. Could he really be so obsessed with the girl, he would risk his freedom, even his life, by making such a plain confession of guilt?

  There was a general feeling of unease in the room, a sense that Archer was already resigned to his fate. No one had suggested that the man was lying. The officers of the constabulary seemed content and most of the public appeared to sympathise with Archer. As for the man himself, he sat quiet and composed, as if nothing mattered.

  After hearing all Archer had to say and questioning both Frank Wickham and Margaret Baines again, the coroner retired to consider the evidence, while everyone else went outside for a breath of fresh air.

  The verdict, when it came, was a shock.

  The coroner had concluded that there was no doubt Mr Jones had died as a result of the fall he had taken into the quarry. But, and here was the salient point, he said,"Archer had been trying to protect the virtue of an innocent, if rather foolhardy young woman, for whom he claims he had a genuine affection and honourable intentions. Had he not acted as he did, she may well have suffered a far worse fate at the hands of Mr Jones. Archer could not have been expected to remain unmoved. He had set upon the man, who had tried to molest the young woman and in so doing, Archer had accidentally caused the death of Mr Jones."

  There was an audible sigh of relief in the room and Margaret Baines sobbed into her attorney's handkerchief.

  Lizzie Gardiner had not been able to bring herself to attend the inquest.

  When Darcy and Mr Carr returned with her mother and Margaret, who was now at liberty to return to her home, Lizzie wept with relief."At least Margaret will not have a death upon her conscience," she said, and it was clear to them that she did not mean the death of Mr Jones."It would have been singularly unfair if a man who had tried to stop a helpless girl being molested was to lose his life or his liberty, because he had, by his action, accidentally caused the death of her attacker," and there was not a dissenting voice to be heard on the subject.

  Cassy was immensely relieved, too.

  While she had no liking for Archer, she was glad the matter had ended without the need for a trial, possibly followed by a hanging or transportation. Some of the tales that were told of the fate of men sent down for murder, sentenced to penal servitude at Godforsaken places like Port Arthur or Norfolk Island on the other side of the world, were too horrible to contemplate.

  Cassy assumed that Margaret would now be free to live and work in the area as she chose.

  "She will probably never want to see the man Archer again," she declared, as they retired to bed that night.

  Her husband smiled and said,"Perhaps, but I cannot believe the girl was not flattered by his admission of a love lasting many years and such a public declaration of his intentions. Besides, just think, by his confession, he was declaring his willingness to give up his liberty or his life for her. Margaret must be touched, surely?"

  "Oh, Richard, do you really believe that?" his wife protested, but Dr Gardiner was unwilling to be cynical, at least not until he had evidence to the contrary, he said, as he put out the light, pointing out gently that men had been willing to die for love, before today.

  Cassy was not in any mood to be contrary; it had been a much more satisfactory day than many that had gone before and she had no wish to indulge in a pointless argument with her husband. Besides, she thought with a smile, he may even be right.

  The police investigation into the death of Mr Jones had led, quite by chance, to the discovery of two other wanted men who had been apprehended at Cromford. They had been involved in setting up a string of fraudulent deals around the county, most of which led right back to Andrew Jones. Clearly he was the man they had been working for, and it was to their hideout, in an old manor house outside Cromford, that Jones used to retreat whenever the inn became too crowded for comfort or a stranger asked too many inconvenient questions.

  News of their arrest brought general relief to the community and especially to the innkeeper, Mr Hand, whose suspicions had increased considerably in recent times.

  Mr Carr, too, was glad to be rid of them; they'd been loitering around his property too often for his liking, yet he had been powerless to do very much about them. Their depredations had troubled many of the farmers and shopkeepers in the area, for they were suspected of thieving and worse. It may well be said that, knowing they were taken into custody and would soon be out of the county, the entire populace breathed a sigh of relief.

  Indeed, it could be stated without fear of contradiction, and Mr Sharp the chief constable did say it:"The end of the investigation into the death of Mr Andrew Jones, and the activities of his henchmen, has resulted in an abatement in the criminal activities in the area and a marked mitigation of the strain that everyone in Matlock, who was in any way touched by it, has endured this last month," he declared."Now, we can all get on with our lives in peace."

  And many a voice said"Amen" to that.

  For the Gardiners, this was indeed a blessing.

  * * *

  Richard was preparing to go to London with Matthew Ward for the presentation of their research to a medical council meeting, while Cassandra and her mother needed to meet and make plans for Lizzie's wedding, which was closer now than ever. Mr Carr and his bride-to-be were especially pleased. They could concentrate upon one another again, as lovers are wont to do at such times. There was much that needed saying and doing and so little time.

  Yet, it was surely Mr Frank Wickham who must
have felt he had most to be thankful for. During the difficult days he had spent explaining his activities and present circumstances to Darcy Gardiner and Mr Carr, the latter had shown some interest in him, apart from his role in exonerating young Josh Higgins. Later, after the coroner's inquest was concluded and Wickham, who had been staying at Rushmore Farm, had been preparing to leave, Mr Carr had offered him the use of a small vacant cottage near Rushford, on his property. Frank Wickham, unable to believe his good fortune, had offered to pay some rent, but Mr Carr had a much better idea.

  He had suggested that Wickham should, in lieu of rent, provide his services to the parish school, where he could teach the children to draw and paint.

  "Unlike the children of wealthy parents, who can afford private lessons, these young people will never learn to draw or paint, because no one will teach them. If you are prepared to do it, you can have Rushford Cottage free of rent," he had said, and Frank Wickham had agreed with alacrity.

  Even at his best, he was not an articulate young man; on this occasion, he was dumbfounded, barely managing to stutter his grateful thanks.

  He was, he said, more grateful than he knew how to say, which fact was quite apparent to Mr Carr.

  When he revealed to Lizzie the agreement he had made with Wickham, Mr Carr did so with some trepidation, knowing the acrimonious state of relations between the Darcy family and the Wickhams. He expected to have to argue and persuade and, to that end, was prepared with chapter and verse of the most logical arguments in favour of his plan.

  He was, therefore, pleasantly surprised to discover that her response was quite the opposite.

  In fact, Lizzie was delighted."That is a splendid idea, I cannot imagine a better scheme, for not only will it give poor Frank Wickham a place to stay in a place where he can work in peace, as well as teach the children of the parish; it also gets him away from his impossible family. If he could only get out of the clutches of his insufferable mother and shake off the reputation of his disreputable brothers, he may be able to make his way in the world," she said, with the kind of illuminating maturity that often surprised him.