The Elizabeth Conspiracy

by Jennifer Joy

  The cork squeaked in protest when he pulled it out and held it to his nose, his frown deepening. Darcy had to remind himself to breathe. Was the clue they needed contained within the tinted glass?

  The doctor smelled it again, then he dipped the tip of his finger in the liquid and tasted it, his face contorting at the unexpected flavor. Richard handed him a silver flask, and he drank from it, swishing the spirits around in his mouth before swallowing.

  Breathe, Darcy, breathe.

  Wiping his mouth with his coat sleeve, the doctor set the bottle down with a resounding clank. "I was very clear in my instructions to Miss de Bourgh that she not take laudanum with the remedies I gave her. She was aware of the danger of mixing sedatives."

  Aunt Catherine grasped her cane between both hands, leaning on it. "She disposed of her laudanum bottle as you recommended."

  "What did she do with it?" Darcy asked, his nerves on point.

  She ignored him. "There is nothing more to discover here because the bottle belongs to me. Distress has made me forgetful. I requested some laudanum tea for my own use on the eve of Anne's death, and the maid must have left it here on Anne's tray. I will have to reprove her for her carelessness. We must thank the doctor for his trouble and send him on his way."

  Without so much as a rest from his travels or a repast, Aunt Catherine hurried the doctor out of Anne's bedchamber and closed the door firmly behind her with a steely look at Darcy and Elizabeth.

  Darcy would slip the doctor some coins for his trouble — enough to inspire forgiveness for his aunt's oversight … and belief in her blatant lie.

  Mrs. Beeton stood at the top of the landing as they filed out of Miss de Bourgh's room, a hatbox in her hands.

  Lady Catherine arched her eyebrow. "What is that, Mrs. Beeton?"

  Without pause, Mrs. Beeton replied, "The milliner requested we retrieve this for Miss Bennet a couple days ago, and I have only now been able to send someone for it."

  Elizabeth attempted to mask her surprise. Jane had said nothing in her last letter about a bonnet, and Elizabeth could think of nobody else thoughtful enough to have a bonnet made for her. Unless…. Her breath caught in her throat.

  She dared not look at William, but while she could force her eyes away from the one person she suspected was responsible for the delivery, she could not prevent the heated blush from creeping up her neck.

  "I wonder why they could not be troubled to deliver it themselves. And they wonder why I refuse to frequent their shop." With a huff and a nod, Lady Catherine dismissed Elizabeth from their group to accompany Mrs. Beeton to her room.

  The housekeeper closed the door behind her, saying, "I fear I have made a mess of things, Miss Bennet. Mrs. Jenkinson saw me coming upstairs with the hatbox too. I should have hid it with Cook in the kitchen, but I worried how you would have managed to get it upstairs unseen."

  Elizabeth asked, "Is this Mr. Darcy's doing?"

  Mrs. Beeton smiled in answer. "He is such a gentleman, he wished to replace it after the incident in the conservatory. It would have been done sooner, but I had some difficulty making arrangements after Miss de Bourgh's death. Understandably, Mr. Darcy could not see to it himself or I am certain you would have received it sooner."

  Elizabeth opened the box and lifted the bonnet delicately between her fingers. It was an exact replication of the bonnet she had last worn in the conservatory, only the straw was of a better quality and the flowers were freshly picked. He had remembered every detail down to the soft pink of the rosettes. It was perfect.

  "Mr. Darcy especially insisted on the rosettes. Did you know there is only one bush on the entire estate and its surrounding country with flowers of that particular color? Mr. Darcy scoured the entire property to find them," added Mrs. Beeton.

  Elizabeth's elation was only tempered by the knowledge that she must maintain the utmost discretion. If it became known he had given her a gift, even one his honor had bound him to give, Elizabeth dreaded to think of the consequences.

  She would have to go about the rest of the day pretending as if she had not been the recipient of William's kindness. Uncertain whether or not she would have the opportunity to thank the originator of the gift, she embraced Mrs. Beeton. "Thank you."

  Mrs. Beeton patted her back, then stepped out of the embrace. "I had best return to the parlor. If her ladyship sees a speck of dust after receiving so many visitors, it will be me to whom she speaks." She crossed the room, adding before she reached the door, "I have a feeling things will work out well for you in the end, Miss Bennet. I am happy for Mr. Darcy."

  Elizabeth was happy too. She nestled the bonnet back inside the box, letting her fingers trail over the silky ribbons. She would not be able to wear it until she could leave Rosings. She could not wear the bright, happy colors while the household was in mourning, nor would she replace the cheerful rosettes with a black ribbon when everything about that bonnet would forever remind her of William's smile and laughter. She would not alter it for the world.

  With every intention of entertaining herself in the library until the dreaded moment Lady Catherine should require her presence, Elizabeth went downstairs. She had not yet reached the door when Mrs. Jenkinson appeared.

  Clasping onto Elizabeth's forearm with her shaky hand, the elderly companion said, "What are you up to, Miss? Not content to take my place, have you set your sights on Mr. Darcy as well? Catching him would be quite the feather in your cap."

  A loud crack behind them echoed through the marble hall. Elizabeth looked over her shoulder to see Lady Catherine flanked by her two nephews. Had they heard Mrs. Jenkinson's accusation? Their stern expressions suggested as much.

  "Unhand Miss Elizabeth, and tell me where Anne's laudanum bottle is, Mrs. Jenkinson," Lady Catherine ordered.

  Mrs. Jenkinson lowered her hand and stepped away from Elizabeth. "It is in my apothecary chest, your ladyship. Do you wish for me to fetch it?" she asked, eager to please her patroness.

  "Have you used any of it?"

  "It remains unopened, your ladyship."

  Elizabeth had not believed Lady Catherine's story that the bottle was hers. Given the esteem with which Lady Catherine regarded her own family, Elizabeth guessed she did not wish to see her name in the gossip section of the London newspapers. A murder in the de Bourgh household would be the talk of the ton.

  Lady Catherine demanded, "Show it to me."

  William asked, "Why did you tell the doctor it was yours?"

  Lady Catherine gripped her cane. "I am more certain now than ever before that someone killed my Anne. Do you think I would have him returning to London where he would spread it in the newspapers? A pretty piece of news that would be."

  Colonel Fitzwilliam pointed out, "It will happen anyway once you make an accusation. You cannot keep this a secret forever."

  "If I am the one to give the information, I control what is revealed and how it is told. I will use my influence to garner support from my peers and sympathy from the public. A stranger would only drag my name through the mire."

  William folded his arms over his chest. "And what if you determine that someone closer than you suppose is responsible for the crime?"

  Lady Catherine snapped, "Then God help him for I will not. Justice is rarely merciful."

  Elizabeth was stunned. Was Lady Catherine so consumed with grief, she would lash out at her remaining relatives? "What of your family? Do you not feel it your duty to protect their interests too? Or would you make yourself the victim of their wickedness at the expense of your innocent relatives?" She would not name Miss Darcy or mention the young lady's precarious future were Lady Catherine to condemn William, but it was foremost in her mind.

  Lady Catherine jabbed her cane against the marble. "You," she said, stepping closer to Elizabeth. "Why do you think I had you accompany us to Anne's room if not to witness your reaction? Do not think I did not notice, Miss Bennet, how you did not act surprised when the doctor found the bottle of laudanum. Why is that unless
you already knew what was in the bottle?" She paused long enough for her scorn to scorch Elizabeth's peace of mind.

  Lowering her voice, Lady Catherine added, "Rest assured, I will uncover any secrets you have. If you are responsible for my daughter's early demise, you need not concern yourself with the consequences to my family when it will be your family to suffer from your unforgivable sin against me."

  "I was not surprised because I had already drawn the conclusion that your daughter must have been poisoned. The doctor only confirmed what I had already suspected. Surely, your ladyship suspected it before I did," Elizabeth answered, praying for the love of all that was holy and just that the lady asked no further questions. Elizabeth would not lie, but it would not help her or William for it to be revealed that they had inspected Miss de Bourgh's room and seen the bottles the night before.

  Thankfully, Colonel Fitzwilliam intervened. "I suggest we find Anne's laudanum bottle. There is no time to lose."

  Chapter 24

  Darcy struggled to control himself. His mind ought to have been on the more urgent matter at hand — that of finding Anne's laudanum bottle — but what he most urgently wished to know was if Elizabeth liked the bonnet. It had been more difficult than he had supposed to have a replica of the original made, but the finished product was an exact copy of the image in his memory.

  He felt no remorse at the breach of propriety in replacing her bonnet. He had been the one to mangle it after all, and Mrs. Beeton was eager to assist him (having witnessed the unfortunate event). What proved surprising to Darcy was how much delight he took in picking out every detail — from the color of the rosettes to the smoothness of the ribbon. It was only a pity he had to deprive himself of seeing Elizabeth's reaction on its receipt.

  They followed Mrs. Jenkinson into her bedchamber, a comfortably proportioned room with ample space for a pianoforte near the door adjoining her room to Anne's.

  She opened the lid of a large mahogany chest on the opposite wall. The bottles tinkled as she searched through them, occasionally holding one up to better see it in the light of the window above the apothecary chest. She took a long time about it.

  Darcy grew impatient. Aunt Catherine twisted her cane between her hands, and Richard shuffled his weight between his feet.

  Only then, after he had observed everyone else in the room, did Darcy indulge in a glance at Elizabeth. It would be more conspicuous for him to look at every other occupant of the room with the exception of her. As a justification, it held up well.

  And his efforts were rewarded when she met his gaze, a smile turning up the corners of her eyes.

  Mrs. Jenkinson turned to them, her hands fluttering over her breast and her mouth wide in astonishment. "I do apologize. My eyes are not what they once were. I distinctly recall placing the bottle of laudanum in here, but I do not see it. Perhaps one of the young gentlemen will be able to see what I am unable to, if it pleases her ladyship."

  Darcy stepped forward before Aunt Catherine could prevent him.

  "Fitzwilliam," she snapped. "Assist Darcy."

  Your confidence astounds me, thought Darcy. God forbid he attempt to tamper with the evidence or cast the blame off of himself to Mrs. Jenkinson by a sleight of hand.

  Richard must have had a similar thought. He said, "I think it best for you to let me search through the bottles so there is no doubt in Aunt Catherine's mind. On the chance we find some evidence."

  As much as Darcy detested standing aside while his cousin did all of the work, he saw the wisdom in Richard's suggestion. He contented himself by reading every label aloud as Richard turned them over between his hands.

  As the amount of bottles searched became greater than the bottles remaining, Darcy's anxiety grew. If they did not find the bottle, they would not know where to begin to search for it. It could be anywhere by now.

  The last one was empty, but Richard lifted it to the light of the window anyway. And Darcy saw it.

  Richard gasped aloud. "I would not have thought it true, but it would appear I was wrong."

  "Laudanum," read Darcy.

  Aunt Catherine snatched the bottle away from Richard, and Darcy watched Mrs. Jenkinson for a reaction. Had she murdered Anne? While she certainly had motive enough, and as much as he wished for himself and Elizabeth to be free from all accusation, her shock was either sincere or she was the best actress Darcy had ever seen. Her face blanched, and he had to reach out to catch her before she swooned. Even when he had seen her safely to a chair, he maintained his hold on her arm lest she topple over.

  Aunt Catherine held the bottle out to Mrs. Jenkinson impatiently. "How do you explain this? Why is this bottle empty when you told me it had not been opened?"

  Mrs. Jenkinson's face bunched up like a pug dog, and Elizabeth reached out to steady her on the other side of her chair.

  Richard handed her a handkerchief, which she fumbled in her trembling hands.

  Aunt Catherine jabbed her cane at the floor, clearly unimpressed with their ministrations. "Did you murder my Anne?"

  Violently shaking her head, Mrs. Jenkinson denied it. Between heaving sobs, she said, "When your ladyship has been so kind to take me in? How could I do such a thing when I am grateful to you for keeping your promise to my brother?"

  In a kind but authoritative voice, Richard said, "Come, Mrs. Jenkinson, now is not the time for secrets. If you held anything against Anne, now is the time to reveal it."

  The elderly woman sniffed and dabbed at her nose. "It will distress her ladyship to hear it."

  Darcy could understand her hesitancy. She would have to reveal Anne's selfish disregard for propriety and kindness, unladylike qualities to which Aunt Catherine had always turned a blind eye.

  Aunt Catherine said, "I will hear what I must to discover the truth. If you will not tell me, I will find out by other means, and in doing so will have to add you to my list of suspects for the aggravation you have caused me."

  Mrs. Jenkinson's tears dried in an instant. If she had hoped for sympathy, she would not get it from Aunt Catherine. Grief had hardened her.

  "I will own there were some hard feelings between me and Miss de Bourgh, but I did not end her life," she began. "I first suspected she wished to replace me when I noticed how often she kept company with young Miss Lucas. But it was not until Miss de Bourgh invited Miss Bennet to Rosings as her guest that my suspicions were confirmed. My own miss wished to replace me with someone younger and livelier after all of my years caring for her in her illness. She wished to cast me off as of no value to her." Her chin trembled, and it occurred to Darcy that Mrs. Jenkinson had really cared for Anne.

  Aunt Catherine huffed, "My daughter would never attempt to cast off a relation to whom she was well aware I had offered a place in my home. Sir Lewis made it plain to me I was to see to the needs of his sisters after his death, and I would never breach a promise made to him. Anne knew I would keep my word."

  Mrs. Jenkinson stood, her steps firm now. "And yet, that is precisely what she wished to do. She went so far as to offer my position to Miss Bennet." She pointed her finger at Elizabeth, who had helped her only moments before. "If you ask me, it is she you should be looking at instead of me."

  So much for reciprocating kindness. This turn in conversation was unacceptable. Darcy asked Mrs. Jenkinson, "Do you have any idea how the laudanum ended up in one of Anne's bottles? And why would she not notice the difference?"

  Richard added, no doubt, to add emphasis to Darcy's question and thus distract Aunt Catherine from Elizabeth, "Yes, it is of the utmost importance we determine how the laudanum got from your apothecary chest to Anne's medicine tray without her noticing it."

  But it was too late. Aunt Catherine turned against Elizabeth. She would choose family over a lady she believed to be inferior.

  Aunt Catherine asked, "Is this true? Did my daughter wish for you to take Mrs. Jenkinson's place as her companion?"

  She stepped closer to Mrs. Jenkinson, giving visible proof of where her loyalty
lay.

  Elizabeth answered, "I refused her offer."

  "And yet you accepted my hospitality?"

  "She gave me little choice in the matter."

  Mrs. Jenkinson sidled closer to Aunt Catherine. Darcy did not believe the former companion had killed her charge, but he despised her for casting the blame off herself and onto Elizabeth. It would serve the two ladies well if they were stuck with each other's miserable company for the rest of their days.

  Just when Darcy thought things could get no worse, Mrs. Jenkinson pointed her rheumatic finger at Elizabeth. "She is a clever one, your ladyship. She would have us believe she is here against her will when it would be to any young lady's advantage to be a guest in your home. And if that was not enough, she secured a ball in her honor!"

  Darcy said, "A ball which will not come to fruition. If that was her goal, then Anne's death put an end to it and the motive is gone."

  Mrs. Jenkinson's eyes darted between him and Richard. "That is not all! There is the matter of the gift Miss Bennet received today. I find it difficult to believe one of her relatives arranged for her to receive a new bonnet from Hunsford's milliner when she is so soon to return to her family in London."

  Darcy gave his best disinterested look, lifting his chin and sighing in boredom. Normally the gesture came naturally to him, but not today.

  Aunt Catherine saw everything. Darcy could only hope she did not see how his cravat pulsed wildly over his chest.

  Aunt Catherine took a step toward Elizabeth. "Who sent the bonnet?"

  "Mrs. Beeton did not provide a name. Any suppositions I might have would be based merely on speculation and of no use to your ladyship."

  Excellent answer!

  Aunt Catherine, however, was not as pleased as Darcy was. She narrowed her eyes. "You refuse to answer my question?"

  "I cannot answer what I do not know for a certainty to be true. There are enough mysteries surrounding us without me adding another one."

  Aunt Catherine's face turned red. "You insolent girl!"