The Phantom of Pemberley

by Regina Jeffers

  The five men plus Darcy’s two footmen started to take things apart. Moving furniture and looking behind and under the room’s fixtures, they studied the minutest corners with a renewed interest.

  “Nothing in the chest,” Worth announced as he let the lid to the storage at the foot of Mrs.Williams’s bed slam shut.

  “I found nothing beneath the bed either, sir.” Jatson St. Denis scooted out from under the bed.

  Darcy mused aloud, “If not under the bed, maybe in the bed. Possibly the lady literally slept with her secrets.”

  Instantly, Darcy and Sir Phillip attacked the bed simultaneously, pulling back the coverings and flipping over the pillows. Reaching for the bottom brocade pillow, Darcy’s fingers brushed against something hard. “I have something.” He pulled the drawstring pouch from the folds of the pillow’s silken covering. “What have we here?” He loosened the golden string and dumped the contents of the bag upon the bed.

  The other men now circled about.Worth expelled a low whistle when the gold coins tumbled from the black velvet bag. “Solid gold.”Worth turned one of the coins over in the palm of his hand. “A small fortune.”

  “Where would a woman of Mrs.Williams’s station get so many gold coins?” Edward questioned as he ran his fingers through them and let them plunge to the mattress.

  “A man’s ring,” Darcy said as he cupped a jeweled band in his outstretched hand.

  Sir Phillip picked up the velvet bag and turned it inside out. A folded piece of paper drifted to the floor. Carefully, the magistrate retrieved it.“Let us see what the lady conceals.” Slowly, he unfolded the item, smoothing the edges as he spread it upon the bed. The men all craned their necks to understand the marriage document. Sir Phillip read the words aloud,“Robert Lewis Harwood to Evangeline Ruth Whitmore.”

  “Evangeline? I thought Mrs.Williams’s Christian name was Evelyn,” Worth thought aloud.

  “Well, apparently if her name was Whitmore and not Williams, the lady might purposely call herself Evelyn instead of Evangeline,” Stafford summarized.

  “You are both missing the most obvious connection.” Edward took the marriage certificate from where it lay on the bed. “Angel Harwood, as the lieutenant identified his wife, is really Evangeline Whitmore.The lieutenant called the lady Angel, short for Evangeline.”

  “If what we suspect is true,” Sir Phillip started to place the items back in the bag, “the lady is an angel—an angel of death.”

  CHAPTER 20

  “ELIZABETH,” GEORGIANA pulled her sister into the music room, “might we talk?”

  Elizabeth anticipated the nature of the ‘talk,’ but she readily agreed. “I am all ears, Georgiana,” she responded as they took up residence before the fireplace.

  Then a nervous silence followed. Elizabeth watched with amusement as Darcy’s sister fidgeted.“Why do you not just tell me what is on your mind, Georgiana? I will not judge you.”

  The girl swallowed hard and flushed. “Could-Could you,” she stammered, “could you t-tell me when you knew you loved my brother?”

  Elizabeth smiled kindly. “I suspected as much.” She rolled her eyes upward, trying to visualize the moment. “It would be prudent to say from the first moment he walked into the Meryton Assembly Hall, but Fitzwilliam managed to insult me with his refusal to ask me to dance, and I set myself against anything he could offer. So, from the beginning we verbally tussled for supremacy, but I suppose, in many way that was love. I hated that Fitzwilliam might find me wanting—that he might think poorly of me—might think I was lacking in some essential. Therefore, I pretended, even to myself, to despise him. I once told Jane that I knew I loved him when I realized how many depended upon him for their existence, and I realized he needed someone upon whom he could depend. I cannot say the exact moment; we were connected from the beginning. Your brother brought sunlight to my heart.” Elizabeth nudged Georgiana’s foot with her own.“Is there someone you affect, Georgiana?”

  “Would it disappoint Fitzwilliam if I did not want a Season?” The girl blushed thoroughly.“I would be so out of place in a room full of strangers.”

  “Do you not wish to meet a young lord? Once you became familiar with Viscount Stafford, there was no awkwardness.”

  Georgiana looked off to the side. “Then Fitzwilliam would object? I thought as much.” Her gaze fell to her hands resting in her lap. “I had simply hoped—.”

  “Hoped for someone more familiar?” Elizabeth understood perfectly. “Perhaps with my encroaching confinement, we should seek entertainment in Derbyshire—give you time to build a rapport with some of the local young people—give you a chance to meet someone new.”

  Georgiana looked devastated, but she said, “Yes, maybe that is what I need.”

  Elizabeth knew better—knew what stirred Georgiana’s heart—what the girl truly wanted. She would see how things developed before she spoke to her husband in that regard. “Lydia loves a social gathering,” she began. “Why do we not show her some of Derbyshire? Bakewell’s celebration is next week. What do you say, Georgiana? Might I send for Lydia, and we can plan an excursion?”

  “Why not?” Georgiana’s lack of enthusiasm rang clear to her sister.

  ��

  Silence filled the room as the men froze in a horrified tableau. “Can it be?” Darcy breathed the question.

  Sir Phillip turned slowly toward Pemberley’s master, a grim frown furrowing his forehead.“I fear we must speak to the lady immediately.” He returned the coins and ring to the bag and refolded the paper. “Colonel, might you and Lord Stafford take Mr. Darcy’s men and examine Mrs.Wickham’s room?”

  The colonel nodded.

  “Mr. Darcy and I must question Mrs. Williams or Mrs. Harwood or whatever we are to call her. Worth, I want you there to ensure that the lady’s rights are protected.”

  “As you wish, Sir Phillip,” Mr.Worth said automatically.A poker face hid his complicated feelings.

  “Come, gentlemen, we have a mystery to unravel.”

  Peter searched the antechamber for his belongings. Consumed by his frustration, he did not try to hide his anger. “I am personally exhausted by your need to control every situation. I do not know why we must take our leave so soon. I love Pemberley; it could be my home again if I could simply find a way to please my father. He wanted me here—wanted me to have the lessons of a gentleman—to take my place alongside Darcy—to have a superior life. Now, you say we must abandon the place we have established here.” He slammed a stolen Pemberley book against the wall.“And do not place the blame solely upon my shoulders. I told you the woman would not allow me to leave the room. She would have sent up an alarm for the whole household. It is just as much the fault of both of you as it is mine. You killed the footman and you the lieutenant.Tell me how it is my fault! You do not own me, you know. I do not have to do what you tell me!” Peter stormed away to sulk. “I will show them,” he grumbled. “They want to get Darcy’s attention—make the man sorry for his former snubs—well, I know how to do that better than anyone!”

  Sir Phillip led Darcy and Worth to the room holding Mrs. Harwood. “Allow me to do the talking,” the magistrate warned before they entered. When the door swung open, the woman rose slowly to stand defiantly before them. “Your shoes, Mrs. Harwood.” Sir Phillip extended his arm and offered her the footwear.

  The lady took her slippers and stepped into them before returning to her previous stance. “So, now you know my secret,” she whispered.

  Darcy and Worth circled slowly to stand behind the widow. “Would you care to explain your part in the lieutenant’s scheme?” Sir Phillip motioned for her to return to her chair.

  A slight shake of her head said she refused his kindness.“Robert…Robert,” she faltered, “was the love of my life. I married Samuel Whitmore when I was seventeen, but ours was a troubled joining. My parents thought it a brilliant match, and as they had a household of daughters, they readily gave me to the first man who offered.” With her descrip
tion, Darcy could not help but think of Mrs. Bennet trying to pawn Elizabeth off on Mr. Collins. “Admiral Whitmore, some twenty years my senior, wielded power aboard his ship and within his quarters. He tolerated no question of his authority. When the admiral lost his life at San Domingo, I rejoiced at being free. I spent a little over a year in mourning for a man I truly despised, and then I met Robert Harwood.”The lady swayed in place, and Darcy moved forward instinctively to catch her. He gently lowered her to the seat before moving away.

  “I knew Robert’s failings—women always know. Society accuses us of wanting to reform a rake, but that is never our intention. We simply want to give them the love they have never known, no matter what it costs us. One night in the arms of such a man is worth all the nights of loneliness.” The lady’s voice trailed off in memory. She sat in silence, unmoving for several long moments. Sir Phillip took the seat beside her and quietly took Mrs. Harwood’s hand in his own. He said nothing, but the gesture caused the lady to regain her confidence.

  “Robert joined the Regulars in order to escape a trail of gambling debts in his home country.” Darcy instantly thought of George Wickham. On three different occasions he had taken it upon himself to pay his former friend’s debts. Darcy had done so around Lambton and in Cheshire prior to the costly escapade involving the man’s ruination of Lydia Bennet. Mr. Wickham, at the time, was in debt to every tradesman in Meryton, and it took more than a thousand pounds to clear his expenses in Brighton. The British military, Darcy mused, seemed the place to hide a gamester.

  “My poor darling could never quit a card table while he was ahead.” Mrs. Harwood shook her head in sad memory. “Then he stumbled across an opportunity two years ago, and everything changed.A gentleman’s daughter outside Stratford found my Robert most attractive. My husband convinced me to remain quiet, and our first profit became a reality. The baron paid two thousand pounds for Robert to disappear from the lady’s life and to secure his silence.

  “Robert tasted success twice more: in Berwick and in Hull. Yet, neither was enough. The amount he won from the scam—and more—was the amount my dear husband lost at the tables. Then Colonel Fitzwilliam introduced Robert to Anne de Bourgh. When we considered the possibility, we thought ten thousand pounds was assured.”

  Sir Phillip asked quietly, “And your role in the lieutenant’s perfidy?”

  “I was to discover Miss de Bourgh in Robert’s company—the outraged wife—a role I could play easily. I hated every minute Robert spent with another. Unfortunately, Mother Nature played a hand neither of us had expected.When I joined Mr.Worth on the public coach outside Nottingham, I planned to go to Liverpool. Robert had sent word that Miss de Bourgh had arrived and that he would move her to the Salty Sailor, but the storm waylaid me at Pemberley. How was I to know that Anne de Bourgh would be here also?”

  Behind her, Mr. Worth asked, “When did you realize the lieutenant was in the area?”

  Mrs. Harwood glanced over her shoulder at him. “When Robert walked into the morning room with Mr. Darcy. From my first introduction to the de Bourghs, I assumed that Robert nursed a bruised ego because his plan had fallen through. I had no idea he had followed the lady to Pemberley.”

  “Could the lieutenant have been in the house without your knowledge?” Darcy moved where she might see him.

  “Do you mean could Robert be your murderer, Mr. Darcy?” Her tone became defensive again.

  Darcy nodded.

  “No…Robert had many faults…gambling chief among them… but except on the battlefield, Robert would never take another’s life.”The lady paused, looking off to the left as if seeing something only she could know. “To do so…to take another’s life, one must have known pain and love and passion. Robert knew none of those. He would chase a scheme only if it had a quick ending and a decent monetary outcome. Robert never knew hard times—even in debt, he still lived as if each day belonged to him. And Robert never truly loved anyone but himself. No…no, Mr. Darcy, Robert was not your killer.”

  Sir Phillip gently squeezed the lady’s hand; he waited patiently for her eyes to meet his.“And you, Mrs. Harwood, have you known pain and love and passion?”

  The woman knew she could hide her secrets no longer.“I have, Sir Phillip,” she said flatly.

  “And Mrs. Jenkinson? Were you the source of the dear lady’s demise?”

  Silence boomed through the small room—no one breathed—no one blinked. “They all thought it was the cup of tea. The remains of the arsenic on my fingers rested on the rim of the cup, but it was really the last of the broken pieces of ice Mrs. Jenkinson consumed. I broke them from the tree and offered them to her after spreading the arsenic up and down the icy surface.The lady herself placed the flavoring over the frozen powder, thinking it was sugar. Mr.Worth was correct; the ice deadened Mrs. Jenkinson’s taste.We all know the poison can be easily mixed with water, and several drops in a glass of wine or water might kill a person. So why not freeze the deadly liquid?”

  “Why ever for?” Worth could not control the question. “Why Mildred Jenkinson? What did the lady do to earn such a fate?”

  Mrs. Harwood still stared into Sir Phillip’s eyes. “That day on the sledding hill, she thought she recognized me from Kent—asked if I had not been often at Colonel Cavendish’s table. Twice, Mrs. Jenkinson had accompanied Miss de Bourgh to one of the colonel’s weekly dinners. As an officer in the colonel’s unit, Robert was expected to attend, and as his wife, I was part and partial to the Regulars. Of course, society never seats a man and his wife near each other, but Mrs. Jenkinson noticed me just the same. As plain as I am, I still caught the lady’s eye. She asked if I had been at Dover, and even though I denied it, Mrs. Jenkinson kept staring at me. I knew it was only a matter of time before she said something to Miss de Bourgh, and then Robert’s plans would be for naught. I could not let that happen; I loved Robert too much for that. I could never bear to see him disappointed. I knew from the tidbits I overheard, mostly from the servants, that Miss de Bourgh had been found by her mother in Liverpool and brought to Pemberley. Her ruination was obvious.That was why I objected to Mr.Worth’s attentions to the lady. If she accepted Mr. Worth, Miss de Bourgh’s reputation would no longer be an issue. Robert’s big pay day and our ability to leave for Italy would be lost. You must understand; Robert and I planned to see Florence—to leave England. A person can live cheaply abroad. Mrs. Jenkinson stood in our way.”

  “And so you planned to eliminate the lady?” Sir Phillip asked quietly.

  Evangeline Harwood looked shocked by his accusation. “Planned…planned?” she asked. “I planned nothing…truly, it was never my intention.” She stared past the magistrate—through him actually. “The situation simply developed. My petticoat, you see… the lace pulled loose when we came down the hill the last time—hung below my clothing—and I asked Mrs. Darcy for help. I did not think I could reach the house without someone seeing. Mrs. Darcy suggested a nearby tool shed. While the men climbed the slope for the final ride of the day, I slipped into the building to repair my undergarment. And once I finished pulling the thread to free the lace trim, I realized what the building held—shovels and hammers and spades and other gardening tools—and of course, the fertilizers and other compounds. I wrapped the lace into a tight ball and thought to place it in my outerwear pocket, but when I tucked it away, I found a letter from Robert there, and a plan developed before my eyes. It was as if Robert told me what to do. I took the paper from my inside pelisse pocket and put some of the powder in my husband’s message to me. It seemed only appropriate, after all. I did not know how I would use it, but the arsenic was there for the taking; and it was as if I could not resist it.

  “Again, I thought of nothing but repairing my clothing when I entered the building.When I left the building, I thought of nothing but the poison. The opportunity seemed to present itself. When I returned to claim my spot among Mr. Darcy’s party, I still held no scheme, but when Mrs. Jenkinson herself suggested the frozen stic
ks, everything fell into place. Providence sent me to the tool building, and Providence gave me the means by which to remove Robert’s obstacle, without his approval or even his knowledge. I quite imagined my dear husband would congratulate me for my ingenuity.”

  “So you offered Mrs. Jenkinson the icicle that you had laced with arsenic?”

  Mrs. Harwood grimaced. “The powder clung to my hands and gloves—it was very difficult to use. Later, I burned the gloves and dumped the extra powder from the packet out my window into the snow. Mr. Darcy’s roses should do well in the spring.” She laughed as she gazed at her hands. “No matter how often I wash them, my hands still feel gritty.” She raised her hands to carefully inspect them. “Do you suppose it will ever go away, Sir Phillip?”

  “I cannot say, Mrs. Harwood.”

  “Might I see my husband, sir?” she asked suddenly.

  Sir Phillip looked about uncomfortably. “I do not think that prudent, madam. The scene is not fit for a lady’s eyes.”

  “I must say farewell—I never knew where Samuel Whitmore found his grave—buried at sea in the West Indies, but I can offer Robert my final prayers and see to his burial.”

  The magistrate reluctantly nodded his agreement. He stood and offered the lady his arm. Motioning for Darcy and Worth to lead the way, he squired the two-time widow from the room.

  Sir Phillip motioned for the footman to unlock the door.The magistrate caught the lady’s hand before they entered. “I must caution you against this once more, Mrs. Harwood.The lieutenant’s condition is quite repugnant.”

  “I understand your concern, Sir Phillip, but I must see Robert for myself.” She seemed unusually composed.

  Resigned, Sir Phillip reached for the door handle. He swung the door wide and stepped inside. Reaching back, he caught Mrs. Harwood’s arm at the elbow to support her weight, expecting the woman to collapse as soon as she saw her husband’s bloody body.