“I am still deciding where Lewis and I will live,” said Mrs. Collins. She was considering renting a little house in the area, or perhaps one in Hunsford.
Mrs. Collins’s brothers and Mr. Philips’s clerks all asked her, now that her husband was buried, if she could think of anything that could have led to what happened, and if she knew any reason that Lady Catherine’s coachman and other servants might have wanted to harm Mr. Collins. Mrs. Collins considered carefully, but she could not give them any clues. She knew of no quarrel between Mr. Collins and her ladyship’s servants.
Elizabeth met with Mrs. Collins privately and asked if Lady Catherine had written her why she had traveled to Meryton in the first place, but Mrs. Collins said that her ladyship had not. Then Elizabeth decided to break her promise to Lady Catherine – her promise was important, but if Mrs. Collins was in danger, her safety took priority – and described what Lady Catherine had told her about Mr. Radclyff. Mrs. Collins said Lady Catherine had not mentioned him in her letter. However, now that she thought about it, she had heard of an Elinor Radclyff; she believed that Miss Radclyff was an old friend of Lady Catherine’s. Perhaps Mr. Radclyff had been her brother?
Elizabeth said this was possible. She and Mrs. Collins tried to find a connection between the Radclyffs and the death of Mr. Collins, but without additional information, they had little confidence in their conjectures. Elizabeth kissed the baby, then embraced her friend. Before returning to Netherfield Park, she stopped at Longbourn and did her best to listen to everyone. She also asked Kitty to call on the young widow and comfort her when she could.
CHAPTER XXVII
A few days after Mr. Collins was buried, Mrs. Collins called at Netherfield Park. Jane and Elizabeth were surprised to see her because she was in deep mourning for the death of her husband, but they welcomed her cordially. They explained that Mr. Bingley and his sister were out riding.
Jane rang the bell for tea. After the usual inquiries about each other’s health, which with the recent and the impending events necessitated longer and more detailed responses than usual, Mrs. Collins said she had a particular reason for coming to visit.
“I know it is not customary to make calls in my situation,” said Mrs. Collins.
Jane said that they were such old friends and Mr. Collins had been their cousin, so there was no reason to stand on ceremony.
“My reason for coming is not purely social; I have something to tell you, Jane.”
Elizabeth offered to leave the room if they needed privacy.
“No, no, it is nothing like that. It is not a confidential matter, but rather a warning, especially for Jane. Mrs. Ford is in Meryton. I saw her just yesterday.”
This caused some confusion among the ladies of Netherfield Park, for at first they did not recall who Mrs. Ford was. “Do you mean the woman you hired, and who seemed a perfect nursery maid for Lewis, but who then departed without giving notice?” asked Elizabeth.
“Yes, Eliza, that Mrs. Ford.”
The sisters née Bennet took a minute to understand this.
“How odd,” Elizabeth finally remarked. “Charlotte, are you certain? Where did you see her?”
Jane shook her head. “I have never heard that name associated with anyone in Meryton.”
Mrs. Collins said that she never had either, and that she had never seen the woman before meeting her in Kent, but that she found it extremely odd that Mrs. Ford, who had caused such trouble for her and Mr. Collins in Hunsford, should be here in Meryton. She assured Elizabeth that she had complete confidence in her identification. “My mother’s eyesight is weaker than it used to be,” she said, “but mine is excellent.”
Elizabeth apologized for having expressed any doubt. “Why do you think she is here? You do not think – you do not think that she had anything to do with the death of Mr. Collins, do you?”
“I agree that it is most peculiar and I have wondered if she could have been the person whom Mr. Collins thought he might have seen when he arrived in Meryton. Mrs. Ford caused some unpleasantness between us, and so I now understand why he did not mention her to me on his last day. Although she is certainly not to be trusted or relied upon, I do not see how she could be responsible for my husband’s death. She would not have the strength for such a blow, nor could she move a man as large as Mr. Collins. And, although I cannot recommend her as a nursery maid due to unreliability, she was always extremely gentle with the baby.”
“Yet it is an extraordinary coincidence,” said Elizabeth, and everyone agreed. “Where exactly did you see her, Charlotte?”
Mrs. Collins explained that the day before she had gone out in the Lucas carriage with her sister Maria and her son Lewis to call on Mrs. Long. It was necessary, she explained, to take Lewis out most days, both for his health and happiness as well as the health and happiness of all of those at Lucas Lodge. That was when she had seen Mrs. Ford. Her former domestic had entered a building on F— street, the house with the green casement, near Clarke’s library.
Jane explained that those lodgings were owned by her uncle Philips. “He rented them out to a middle-aged woman, but she is not called Mrs. Ford.”
“Her name is Mrs. Smith,” said Elizabeth, and explained that she had met the tenant at a card game at the Philips’s house.
None of the three ladies could understand what Mrs. Ford was doing in Meryton, or why she was calling on Mrs. Smith.
“Perhaps Mrs. Smith has hired your runaway nursery maid,” said Jane.
“But not as a nursery maid!” said Elizabeth. “Not unless Mrs. Smith has a secret child!”
Elizabeth’s words, uttered as a joke, caused the ladies to pause and wonder. It seemed impossible for Mrs. Smith to be the mother of an infant – she had not been expecting when Elizabeth had met her at her aunt’s only a few weeks ago – but it was not impossible for her to have become responsible for one. She could be a grandmother suddenly left with a grandchild, or an aunt or even a great-aunt. And if the lease under which Mrs. Smith had hired the rooms specified no children, that would explain why Mrs. Smith was avoiding Mrs. Philips.
“If Mrs. Smith has hired Mrs. Ford, it is likely that Mrs. Smith is being imposed upon. But what should we do?” asked Elizabeth.
None of the three ladies were inclined to call upon Mrs. Smith. Both Jane and Elizabeth had met her only once, and Mrs. Collins had never met her at all. Not only were none of them sure that they wanted to pursue the acquaintance, such a communication from a relative stranger would prove extremely awkward, if it did not offend her entirely. However, the solution was simple. Mrs. Collins’s information would be given to Mr. and Mrs. Philips. Even if Mrs. Smith had recently ignored several of Mr. and Mrs. Philips’s invitations, Mrs. Smith was still their tenant; they were best positioned to pass along the warning.
“I will call on Mrs. Philips immediately,” Elizabeth promised. “Charlotte, do you wish to come with me? And perhaps describe this Mrs. Ford? I have never seen her.”
Mrs. Collins expressed her regrets; she had to return to her little boy. “However, I can describe her to you.”
Elizabeth listened carefully, but she thought that Mrs. Collins’s description of Mrs. Ford would fit more than half the middle-aged women in England: medium brown hair that was turning gray, lines around the eyes, average height and a figure that once might have been good.
Mrs. Collins excused herself and departed.
Both Jane and Elizabeth discussed their friend and the mysterious Mrs. Ford. “Very strange,” observed Jane.
“It is indeed,” said Elizabeth. “But you have been advised – do not hire a middle-aged woman as a nursery maid! At least not till Charlotte has seen her and confirmed that she is not Mrs. Ford!”
Jane smiled at this and said that she had spoken to several candidates and none of them were middle-aged. Then she asked, more seriously, Elizabeth’s opinion of how Mrs. Collins was faring. “Everything must seem more difficult for her now.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Y
es – but Charlotte is one of the most capable women of my acquaintance. She will manage.”
They then discussed when Elizabeth should take her carriage to Meryton to call on their aunt. With Mr. Bingley still out riding with his sister, Elizabeth was reluctant to leave, but Jane told her she was being nonsensical. She felt fine, absolutely fine; she would only be alone for an hour or two at most; and finally, she would not be truly alone, for Netherfield Park was full of servants.
“I will go, only if you promise to defend me from Mr. Bingley if he is angry with me,” said Elizabeth.
Jane promised that Bingley’s temper would remain good – it had been so since a few days after they had found the remains of the burnt letter – so Elizabeth ordered her carriage and went to call on her aunt. Mrs. Philips was honored by this unscheduled visit from Mrs. Darcy, and quickly ushered her wealthy niece into the best seat. Her uncle and his clerks had come upstairs for tea, and so Elizabeth communicated Mrs. Collins’s information to all of them, her delivery hindered by interruptions and misunderstandings.
“Who exactly is Mrs. Ford?” asked Mr. Clarke.
“Why does she even matter?” asked Mr. Morris.
Elizabeth explained that Mrs. Ford was a middle-aged nursery maid who had quit working for the Collinses without giving due notice.
Mr. Morris remained skeptical. “And what exactly does Mrs. Collins wish us to do? Sue Mrs. Ford for breach of contract? Or compel her to return to service?”
Mrs. Philips said, “Surely Mrs. Collins cannot want her back! This Mrs. Ford sounds most unreliable. It is a blessing when an unreliable servant leaves of her own volition.”
Elizabeth said that she did not believe that Mrs. Collins was seeking any sort of recompense, but that she only wished to warn Mrs. Smith about her. As Mrs. Collins had never met Mrs. Smith, she hoped for someone else to deliver the warning.
Mr. Clarke sighed. “I suppose the death of Mr. Collins has made Mrs. Collins suspicious of everyone.”
Mr. Philips remarked that the woman Mrs. Darcy had described hardly seemed dangerous.
Mrs. Philips agreed with the gentlemen, but she was still determined to oblige her wealthy niece. “Perhaps it is nothing, but I will tell Mrs. Smith, Lizzy. Even though Mrs. Smith has no reason to hire a nursery maid.”
Elizabeth decided not to relate her conjectures on this point to her uncle and his clerks; what had seemed plausible to the ladies at Netherfield, seemed too fanciful to mention in this room with so many men.
Mr. Clarke explained that he handled Mrs. Smith’s rent and that he could bring her the message, but Mrs. Philips insisted on undertaking the errand herself.
Then Mr. Clarke asked about Mrs. Collins. “Will she be returning soon to Hunsford?”
“At some point she must, if only to retrieve her possessions,” said Elizabeth, but added that she did not know what Mrs. Collins’s plans were; it was possible that Mrs. Collins did not know them herself.
“Poor Mrs. Collins!” exclaimed Mrs. Philips. “To be widowed so young, and to be facing life’s challenges entirely alone.”
Considering how crowded Lucas Lodge was these days, alone was not the best word to describe Mrs. Collins’s situation, but despite being diverted, Elizabeth agreed with her aunt.
Mr. Morris cleared his throat. “If Mrs. Collins needs any assistance or advice, your uncle’s firm is always available. You could tell her that, Mrs. Darcy.”
“I will,” said Elizabeth, then said she had to return to Jane. She was satisfied that she had done what she could to protect the reclusive Mrs. Smith, and now that her uncle’s employees were attempting to use her to solicit business, it was time to depart.
CHAPTER XXVIII
Two days later, Elizabeth was sitting on a bench with her sister at Netherfield. They were discussing their aunt Philips’s report of her visit to her tenant Mrs. Smith. It had, apparently, not gone well. Mrs. Smith did not know a Mrs. Ford, she was not planning to hire a Mrs. Ford, and she certainly had no intention of hiring a nursery maid!
Mrs. Philips had been diligent and had inquired at the other apartments, but no one in them had ever heard the name in question either. “I have done what I could, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth thanked her aunt and wondered what she could do to compensate her for her trouble. Mrs. Philips did not stay long, and then Elizabeth and her sister went outside to enjoy the fine weather.
“Do you believe Charlotte was simply mistaken?” asked Jane. “Normally Charlotte is extremely level-headed, but these days she could be overwrought.”
“Perhaps,” said Elizabeth, who truly did not know what to think.
A servant then approached with a letter for Mrs. Darcy. It was not the usual time for the post so Elizabeth was a little surprised – and a little concerned, for generally bad news was the news that could not wait for regular delivery. Perhaps the vicar at the village of Kympton had died?
“From Mr. Darcy?” inquired Jane.
“This is not his handwriting,” replied Elizabeth. She did not recognize the hand, which was very plain.
“From whom, then? Aunt Gardiner?”
“I do not know,” said Elizabeth, inspecting the back. “There is no return address.”
“You have a secret admirer!” teased Jane. With difficulty she rose and said she would return to the house. When Elizabeth said that she would return as well, Jane told her to stay where she was. “I know that you prefer to read your letters in private, and I also know that you would like to walk to the pond and that I could not manage it. Come inside after you have had a little exercise.”
So Elizabeth remained on the bench and opened her letter; within she found two pieces of paper. The first was addressed to her:
Dear Mrs. Darcy,
Congratulations on your successful marriage. I hope you are very happy with your husband. If you wish to remain so, you will not want the following – and I have many other examples from your pen – sent to Mr. Darcy. To prevent me from doing so, you will need to comply with my instructions exactly.
The note then continued with the instructions to leave several bank notes at a certain spot in Meryton.
Mystified, Elizabeth turned to the next page, which was on a different type of paper, the type she had used when she was unmarried and living with her parents at Longbourn House.
My dearest Wickham,
began the letter, and continued with:
I have missed you so much.
The letter continued with expressions of affection, and with hopes that they would see each other again soon.
Elizabeth was horrified, for she recognized the handwriting: it was her own!
But she had never written such a letter.
Distressed, she folded up the pages and clutched them tightly. She took Jane’s advice and walked to the pond – she had not intended to take the walk, as the day was warm and she was a little fatigued – but now it seemed important to get as far away from the house and any other sets of eyes who might perceive her shock and embarrassment. She reached the pond, seated herself on a stump near the water’s edge and re-read the letter and the demand for cash.
Someone was blackmailing her! But was not blackmail usually applied to those who had done wrong? She had never written such a letter to Wickham. Yet how could she prove it?
She studied the letter that was supposed to be from her. Someone had managed to imitate her letter-writing style, from her handwriting to her expressions to the very paper and ink that she had used at Longbourn. Someone had somehow created a letter that would cause her terrible embarrassment if Mr. Darcy ever saw it. If she were not so upset she could almost admire the thoroughness of the criminal, who had showed tremendous attention to detail.
What should she do? If she paid the money – and she could afford it, although it would leave her rather short of cash – then perhaps the problem would go away.
But if she paid the money, what would she say to Mr. Darcy? He was as generous a man that she could hope for, bu
t this sort of expenditure would have to be explained. There were all sorts of excuses that she could give: baby presents to Jane, money for her younger sisters, or better yet, some money to Mrs. Collins to help her with her expenses in this difficult time.
Elizabeth shook her head at her own folly. What was she thinking, coming up with lies to tell to her husband? She had never lied to him, and she did not want to start now. Besides, they were all such transparent lies, that they would not serve the purpose. Darcy certainly knew that most baby presents could not cost this much, and at some point he could ask Bingley about it. Even the excuses of money to her younger sisters or to Mrs. Collins were impossible; she could not count on their silence.
Besides, if she gave this forger money once, what was to stop him from returning to her with demands in the future? She would never be free.
A branch broke behind her; startled, she jumped and gave a cry of alarm.
Elizabeth turned and saw one of Netherfield’s gardeners only a few paces away. He was tall and dark and he looked very strong; given what she had been thinking about, and the still-unexplained death of Mr. Collins, she was not sure whether to be reassured or unnerved by his presence.
“Apologies, Mrs. Darcy,” said the man, bowing awkwardly. “Did not mean to frighten you.”
“Of course you did not,” she said, “I was startled, that is all.” She glanced at the tools that he carried: a long stick and a veil, but noted that he did not proceed to his business. “Do you have something particular to do?”
“Yes, Mrs. Darcy. There’s a wasps’ nest in the tree over there,” and he gestured. “I want to take it down, seeing as you and Miss Bingley keep walking here. But if you wish to stay here, I can destroy it later.”
Elizabeth stared at the nest, and wondered how she could have missed it and the wasps buzzing in the vicinity. It was amazing that she had not been stung. “No, Brown,” she said, finally recalling the undergardener’s name, “you have everything you need with you to remove it. I will leave so that you can work.”
The Meryton Murders Page 16
