The Phantom of Pemberley

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The Phantom of Pemberley Page 13

by Regina Jeffers


  Elizabeth came to her sister’s defense. “I assure you,Your Lordship, you are in error.”

  “I pray I am, Mrs. Darcy, but it seems even more of a concern when one takes into account that it was Mrs. Wickham who returned to the house to arrange for the hot cider.” Adam staunchly defended his beliefs.

  “I have never heard such poppycock!” Lydia protested. “What motive would I have for hurting Miss de Bourgh’s companion?”

  Lawrence countered,“Possibly, Mrs. Jenkinson was not your target.”

  “And who would that be?” Lydia turned red with anger and embarrassment.

  “My cousin.”

  “And why, pray tell, would I wish to hurt Miss Donnel?”

  “To get to me.”

  Lydia charged across the room at him.“I have you know, sir, that I am a married woman!”

  “You would not be the first married lady to find her way to the bed of a man not her husband.”

  Darcy moved to whisper to Georgiana, excusing her from the room.

  “You think a great deal of yourself, sir!” Lydia shrieked.

  “It was you, Mrs. Wickham, who suggested that I send a cup of the cider to my cousin. It was you who clung to me on the hill in a most suggestive way. It was you who followed me to my cousin’s room after her accident, and it was you alone in the hallway.” His voice rose with each accusation.

  Elizabeth stepped forward to insert herself between them. “Do you not think it more likely,Your Lordship, that the man Mrs. Jenkinson saw in the hallway is to blame?”

  “Let me remind you, Mrs. Darcy, that Mrs. Jenkinson took the last cup on the tray, a cup she offered to you, and you adamantly refused.”

  “So I am a suspect now,Your Lordship?” Elizabeth steamed with anger and contempt.

  “I would say we all are, Mrs. Darcy.” Lawrence declared.

  Darcy placed Elizabeth in the curve of his body. “Neither Mrs. Darcy nor Mrs.Wickham were involved.”

  “How do you know?” Nigel Worth, a man used to dealing with evidence, ventured.

  “I questioned my cook, Mrs. Jennings, after Mrs. Jenkinson’s death. She reported only the presence of the new footman in the kitchen after Mrs. Wickham left to find Mr. Baldwin to see that he stoked the fires in the blue drawing room.” He paused to allow that vital information to become part of the room’s collective knowledge, and then he added, “I have no new footman on my staff.” Total silence again. “My purpose this morning was not to frighten you, but to make you aware of what is happening. Unfortunately, with the storm, it is impossible to reach a magistrate to investigate the matter, so it falls to us to do our own inquiry. I will ask His Lordship and Mr. Worth to join me in my study. We will discuss this in detail, and we will ask each of you to make a statement. We will need you to bring to our attention any detail that you might have thought insignificant. Such information may lead us to our wrongdoer. Exercise care until we discover the source of this perfidy.”

  Slowly, reluctantly, the group rose to their feet. No one made eye contact, but each warily watched the others from behind lowered lashes and furtive side glances. Mrs. Williams helped Cathleen, and Lydia arrogantly flounced away.

  Elizabeth came to where Anne now stood. “Let me help you, Miss de Bourgh.” She slid her arm around the woman’s waist. “I have asked Mrs. Reynolds to move your personal belongings to the room next to Georgiana’s.”

  “I will tend to my daughter,” Lady Catherine objected and reached for her only child, but Anne flinched at her mother’s touch.

  “I will go with Mrs. Darcy,” Anne spoke softly but with determination. “Thank you, Mother.”

  Lady Catherine’s eyes reflected the pain she felt, but she regained her composure before saying, “As you wish, Anne.” Slowly, she let her hand drop to her side.

  Having observed her mother’s broken composure, Anne remained motionless for a long moment, but she turned to Elizabeth’s welcoming friendship. They left the room, arms encircling each other. Darcy watched as a dejected-looking Lady Catherine followed them from the room. It was a moment he had long hoped to see. He did not wish any pain on his aunt, but he had often wanted to see his cousin Anne assert herself.

  Soon, only the three men remained. “Gentlemen,” he said at last, “if you will join me in my study, I will send for breakfast.”

  Glumly, first Worth and then Lawrence followed Darcy from the room. Darcy was master of his estate—his staff hustled to do his bidding. But any guest who looked closely at him would see less crispness in Darcy’s step and less authority in his gaze. Darcy would see this through, but the smear to his family name physically hurt him more than anyone knew. He did not look back to see the men following him—Darcy knew they were there. A woman has died— been murdered under my roof. The thought pounded in his head. He had to find whoever had carried out mischief in his house. Darcy would not rest until then.

  CHAPTER 8

  “SO WHAT DO WE DO NOW?” By consensus, the three men led a party of footmen and searched the house, looking for any clue to the culprit’s identity.

  Nigel Worth, who appeared frustrated with the process, seemed inclined to believe Darcy. He knew Fitzwilliam Darcy as a man of honor—the kind of man to make good on a scoundrel’s debts to safeguard his family’s name. Plus, they questioned every servant. Many of them spoke of encounters with a new footman—a man who did menial jobs about the estate without complaint—a man who offered genial conversation as he completed his duties. These staffers described the same man: dark, wavy hair; approximately six feet in height; muscular build; clean-shaven; chocolate-brown eyes; a square jaw; and a firm jaw line. Lucinda had spoken to the man on three separate occasions. The chambermaid described him as “extremely fair of face.” The only differences in their stories were the names he had given them. They knew him as Samuel, as Giles, as Layton, and as Harry.

  Viscount Stafford, on the other hand, had insisted that they satisfy their need to know the truth of Darcy’s revelations. Being young and a bit impetuous, Adam Lawrence wanted the business resolved immediately.

  “I suggest we take a few hours to digest what we know and what we do not know and meet again after luncheon. I need time to rethink my way through this.” Darcy,Worth, and Lawrence stood together in a tight circle in the middle of an unused bedchamber in the east wing. Pemberley’s master absentmindedly ran his fingers through his hair.

  Worth jammed his hand into a side pocket, seeking a snuffbox, which he nervously opened and closed. “I do not like to walk away when answers are not readily available, but it appears we have no choice.”Viewing Mrs. Jenkinson’s body had affected him more than he cared to admit. He had taken a liking to the woman, although he suspected that she was several years older than he. They had enjoyed conversations over the past few days, and yesterday afternoon, the conversation had taken a more intimate turn. Mildred Jenkinson had told him of her late husband, and also of herself, and Nigel Worth wanted to know more. Something about the woman—probably her graciousness and her intelligence—attracted him. He grieved for something that might have been.

  “I am too distracted to sit around for a few hours. Despite the snow, I will take a look outside. Maybe our reprobate does not stay in the house at all—maybe the outside sightings are the clue,” the viscount asserted.

  Darcy nodded in agreement.“I was thinking something similar. Do you mind some company?”

  “I would appreciate it; you know exactly where the other sightings occurred. I will meet you in the main hall in a quarter hour.” The viscount left the room immediately, agitation showing on his face and in his gait.

  Darcy touched the solicitor on the shoulder.“Mr.Worth, might I prevail upon you to keep an eye on the ladies while we search the landscape? I fear their sensibilities are thinly stretched, and several may need someone with a clear head when they realize the depth of our situation.”

  “Of course, Mr. Darcy.”

  “It is too far to reach the field that Mrs. Darcy and I
rode across on the morning of that first sighting,” Darcy explained as he and the viscount walked the main drive to the nearest hedgerow, their going laced with difficulty because of the snow accumulation. Beyond it laid the cottages that Elizabeth and Georgiana had visited. “But we will see the landscape that Miss Darcy described.”

  “I do not like this business, Darcy,” Lawrence grumbled.

  “None of us do, Stafford.” Darcy pointed to the copse of trees where Georgiana claimed to have seen the stranger. “With the snow and the ice, we are not likely to find anything, but it will not hurt to look around.”

  They separated, each of them circling the trees, looking for broken twigs, loose threads, or anything unusual. Darcy inspected the tree against which Georgiana had sworn the man leaned. “Look here,” he called to the viscount as he bent to examine a brown smear some two feet high on the tree.

  Lawrence knelt beside Darcy. “It is just a glob of mud,” Stafford intoned, his irritation evident.

  “Not exactly.” Darcy removed his gloves and lightly touched the damp dirt.“My sister said the man leaned against this tree—his back along the trunk—his foot resting against the bark.” Darcy took a similar stance on the other side of the tree—mimicking the position Georgiana had demonstrated when he questioned her. In doing so, his wet, muddy boot left a similar mark along the tree. “See what I mean,” he summed up.

  “Our man was here.” Stafford touched the dark smudge—this time with more interest. “Whoever he is, the man is several inches shorter than you,” he observed. “See—your mark rests higher on the tree.”

  Darcy knelt to examine both marks again. “The heel of his boot,” he pointed out, “has a squareness about it.” He compared the shapes. “What kind of footwear might this be?”

  The viscount stood and braced his hand against the tree for balance. He raised his foot to look at the bottom of his boot. “Like yours, mine resembles a horse’s shoe—half an oval.”

  “If we decipher this clue, we might solve our mystery.” Darcy looked back toward the house.“I would prefer not to tell the others until we have more to go on.”

  The viscount followed Darcy’s gaze. “You remind me of my father,” Lawrence observed. “Your passion is this estate.You can bear nothing that might tarnish Pemberley’s reputation. The earl is as obsessed with Greene Hall as you are with your home.”

  Darcy turned slowly, taking in Stafford’s smirk. “There was a time, Your Lordship, that your words would have rung true. That was before Mrs. Darcy, literally, danced into my life. It would grieve me to have what my father spent a lifetime creating to go away.Yet, I would abandon it all to keep Mrs. Darcy with me.When you observe my angst, it has nothing to do with this house or the reputation of this estate; instead, it is my need to protect my wife and my sister and those people who have served me well over the years... I must protect them—all of them—from this madness.” Darcy’s gaze returned to the house. “Have you ever been in love, Stafford?”

  The future earl smiled slightly. “No.”

  “Someday,” Darcy mused. “Someday, it will happen to you. I attended a country assembly with my friend Charles Bingley, and my world shifted on its axis.A woman not of my society caught my eye, and I could not withdraw my attention. Much to my chagrin, Elizabeth Bennet consumed my every thought.When I returned to Pemberley, I wondered what she might think of it.”

  Lawrence crossed his arms over his chest. “I am sure that Mrs. Darcy saw the advantage of marriage to you.”

  Darcy barked out a laugh. “Oh, yes, Mrs. Darcy expressed herself quite well. When I proposed the first time, Elizabeth told me that I could not have made the offer of my hand in any possible way that would have tempted her to accept it. Adding insult to her injury, she told me that I was the last man in the world whom she could ever be prevailed on to marry.”

  “The lady refused you?” Lawrence’s eyes lit with mockery.

  “Definitely. I had thought that Elizabeth Bennet lacked the proper connections and would seek the opportunity to better her situation. She, on the other hand, thought me devoid of feelings. From her, I have learned to value what is really important in life. When we met again by chance, I used every civility in my power to show Elizabeth I was not so mean as to resent the past, and I hoped to obtain her forgiveness and to lessen her ill opinion, by letting her see that her reproofs had been attended to.”

  “You changed your ways to please a woman? Good God, man, they are meant to please us.”

  Darcy gestured toward the house, and they began their return to Pemberley’s warmth. “It seems to me, Stafford, that you have gone out of your way to please Miss Donnel.Yet, even if that were not true, with God’s grace, someday you will meet a lady who will see you for the man you want to be. Pleasing Mrs. Darcy makes me a better man. I would attempt anything for the woman. Do not speak to me of brick and mortar. Any concern you detect is for the people I affect.”

  The viscount said nothing for several minutes. “I always knew you to be a rich man, Darcy; I just never knew the extent of your wealth.”

  Darcy smiled and nodded.Then he continued,“What I mean to say, Stafford, is if Miss Donnel is of importance, then do not allow your pride to keep you from happiness.”

  “I care deeply for Miss Donnel, but the lady is not my future countess, and it has nothing to do with our current relationship. Cathleen stirs my senses, but I have never known someone whom I could love. However, I assure you that if I meet such a woman—whether she be a fine lady or of genteel birth or a commoner—I will attempt anything to make her mine. Maybe then I might become the kind of man my father thinks I should be.”

  Darcy accepted the man’s words as truth.“For what it is signifies, I need your strength and your intelligence to solve this mystery.”

  Lawrence chuckled. “That is something, I suppose, although I am sure that the earl would disapprove somehow. My father reeks with disapproval, and I have perfected the art of disappointing him.”

  Darcy thanked his lucky stars that he and his late father had rarely argued about his position in the world. He even thought that his father would approve of his choice of Elizabeth Bennet as his wife. “You are young, Stafford. The responsibility of a title weighs heavily on you.You will find your way. I see a greatness in you.”

  The viscount looked sharply at Darcy, trying to read the sincerity of his remark. After a moment, he said, “Listen to us discussing our legacies as if we knew the dates of our own demises. I appreciate your confidence in me, Darcy, especially after I so out-and-out accused your wife’s sister.”

  “Ah, Mrs.Wickham. If you made the acquaintance of my wife’s mother, Mrs. Bennet, or her aunt, Mrs. Phillips, you would understand the source of the lady’s boldness, as well as her need for attention. However, despite my constant dismay at Mrs.Wickham’s self-absorption, I do not believe the lady possesses the kind of evil needed to orchestra Mrs. Jenkinson’s death or Miss Donnel’s accident.” They reached the main entrance; Mr. Baldwin held the door for them. Neither man spoke of their search before the servants. Handing the butler their outerwear, Stafford followed Darcy into his study before they returned to their conversation.

  “Is it possible that Mrs. Wickham is an accomplice?” Adam could not shake the feeling that somehow the mystery involved the lady.

  “Anything, I suppose, is possible.” Darcy knew Lydia to be easily misled and knew her blind loyalty to a man that Darcy despised. Still, he could not imagine her participating in murder. “Yet I remain far from convinced of Mrs.Wickham’s involvement.”

  Darcy gestured to a tray, and Adam poured himself brandy. “I will bow to your assessment, Darcy.”

  “No,” Darcy demanded sharply.“I want to hear every motive—every possibility. I want no stone unturned.”

  Adam had no response to his host’s insistence. What would his father do if this was Greene Hall? Everything Fitzwilliam Darcy had said to him swirled through his mind. He paused for several long moments before saying
, “I believe I will check on Cathleen and spend some time in my room.” Stafford moved toward the open door. “I will see you at luncheon, if not before.” A few moments later,Adam Lawrence climbed the stairs to his quarters. He had told Darcy that he would call on Cathleen first, but Darcy’s earlier question about Adam’s regard for Cathleen still rang in the viscount’s ears. He was indeed protective of Cathleen.Yet, it was not the same feeling that Darcy held for his wife. He did not know Fitzwilliam Darcy’s financial worth, but Adam suspected that he was to inherit a fortune comparable to Darcy’s. But Darcy had found true happiness, which outweighed the financial gain either of them would attain. Adam wished that he had the focus—the control—his host possessed. Even though Darcy had said he needed Adam’s help, the viscount wondered if the truth was not the reverse.

  “Murray, I have not spoken to Lawson. Did you not tell him I wished to see him?” Darcy had summoned his footman to his study.

  Murray looked about, in real concern. “No one has seen the lad today, sir. I have checked the boy’s quarters, the house, and the stables.”

  “Mr. Steventon?” Darcy did not need to ask the question. Murray would understand.

  “The steward reports not seeing Lawson since late yesterday afternoon.”

  Darcy nearly groaned with frustration. He did not need another mystery. “Let me know the moment Lawson returns to the house, Murray. In this weather, he could not have gone far.”

  “Yes, Mr. Darcy.”The man bowed and exited the room.

  “Mr.Worth, I wondered where you were!” Elizabeth had found the solicitor sitting in a darkened library corner.

  The man rose slowly to his feet, his mind engaged elsewhere. “I apologize, Mrs. Darcy. Did you have a concern I could address?”

  “I thought that you might need some company.”

  Worth gestured to a nearby chair. “I am afraid that Mrs. Jenkinson’s fate has affected me more than I anticipated.The lady was so happy when we last spoke. Now, she is no more. I am beyond distraction.”

 

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