The Elizabeth Conspiracy

by Jennifer Joy

  Elizabeth had hoped William would wish to speak with her, and so it was disheartening when he crossed to the opposite end of the room to stand before the chimney.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam had kept her company until she suggested she had much to think upon, and he could depart from her in good conscience to attend to his cousin.

  She could not help but think that it was all some horrible misunderstanding. If only he would speak with her, she would gladly attempt to repeat to the best of her memory everything she had told Charlotte concerning Mr. Wickham. Surely his defense of her character before Lady Catherine meant there was hope still. He had left her too breathless and confused to say more to the great lady than she had … and, no doubt, her uncustomary silence had been for the best.

  A footman opened the door and Mr. Collins entered the room with Charlotte closely following him. Elizabeth was delighted to see her friend, but at a loss as to why she was there — as to why any of them were there.

  Elizabeth received them, taking Charlotte's hands between her own.

  Charlotte looked around her, taking note of the footmen standing guard at the door, and asked cautiously, "Lizzy, what is this all about? Lady Catherine sent for Mr. Collins, requesting that I join him, but she made no mention of her reason in sending for us."

  Mr. Collins said, "Ah, I see Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam by the fireplace. Did you know the fireplace alone cost Lady Catherine eight hundred pounds?"

  "I had heard," Elizabeth said flatly. Everyone in Meryton knew about the expensive fireplace as well as they knew the cost of the glazing and the number of servants in Lady Catherine's employ. It had long been Elizabeth's opinion that Mr. Collins knew more about the running of Rosings than Lady Catherine did herself.

  When it became apparent Mr. Collins would interrupt the intense conversation between the colonel and William, Elizabeth said, "Please, Mr. Collins, accompany Charlotte and myself. It appears as if the gentlemen are discussing a private matter, and I am in need of your counsel regarding Lady Catherine. There being no one else who is such an expert as you on her character and her ways, I trust I can rely on your discretion and advice."

  Her plea produced the expected results. Puffing out his chest until his corset creaked in complaint, Mr. Collins said, "I am delighted to be of assistance to you, Cousin Elizabeth. While her ladyship's manners are misunderstood by some, I will assist my dearest cousin as well as my benevolent patroness by humbly offering my correct interpretation."

  As soon as they had sat, Elizabeth said, "Perhaps you can explain to me the nature of Lady Catherine's relationship with Mr. Darcy. I understand her grief to be great at the loss of her only daughter, and I have witnessed a resentful behavior which I must credit to the intense grief she is experiencing. To put it plainly, do you believe Lady Catherine capable of accusing her own nephew of the murderer of Miss de Bourgh?" Lady Catherine's threats had sent chills up Elizabeth's spine.

  Mr. Collins' face scrunched in thought. "It is true. Her distress is great — greater than I have ever observed. Grief often makes people act as they would not normally do…" Mr. Collins regaled Elizabeth and Charlotte with a full description of the various consequences of grief and its many displays — none of which offered any comfort or even remotely answered Elizabeth's question.

  When he paused for breath, Charlotte said, "I would not concern myself overmuch, Lizzy. Lady Catherine detests gossip, and I am sure my husband will agree she would avoid it at all costs."

  "Then, why does she forbid him from leaving the property? She is treating him the same as she does me, as a prisoner."

  This was news to Mr. Collins who appeared quite astonished and at a loss for words, opening and closing his mouth like a trout. It pleased Elizabeth to know her confidence in Charlotte had not been betrayed. Not even to her own husband.

  Charlotte considered Elizabeth's point, concluding, "I have no reason to doubt things are as you say, Lizzy. If that is the case, then we can trust that Mr. Darcy will not suffer much. Rich men have ways of avoiding the courts. And even if he is tried, he would never hang. It is simply not done."

  Elizabeth exclaimed, "But his character, his family, and his reputation would be ruined!"

  Charlotte's eyebrows pinched together. "A most unfortunate consequence, but have you not always believed his character to be haughty? Perhaps a blow to his pride might do him more good than harm."

  Elizabeth's jaw dropped. "You cannot believe that, Charlotte."

  "You speak as if your opinion of Mr. Darcy has changed. Did you not tell me he was the most disagreeable man you had ever been obliged to meet?"

  Elizabeth was prevented from answering when the colonel boomed good-naturedly, "I have no doubt but that my cousin gave every reason for Miss Bennet to dislike him, Mrs. Collins. He is as troublesome as a little brother to me most of the time."

  Chapter 30

  What was the colonel about? He was in remarkably good humor given the seriousness of their current circumstances and the scowl William gave him.

  He asked, "What news have you of Miss Lucas? Did she arrive home safely?"

  "She did, I thank you for inquiring," answered Charlotte.

  He continued, "This horrible business has put me in the mind to visit my youngest cousin, Miss Darcy. You have not had the privilege of meeting her, have you?"

  Elizabeth looked at William. What was Colonel Fitzwilliam doing mentioning Miss Darcy when he very well knew the Collinses had never had occasion to meet her? He met her eyes and smiled.

  Mr. Collins said, "I am certain the niece of a family held in such high regard in society is the epitome of charm and accomplishment among her peers."

  Charlotte added, "There is no doubt about it. Does Miss Darcy visit Rosings often?"

  William finally spoke. "Not very often. Pemberley is a great distance away." His participation in the conversation appeased Elizabeth's concern somewhat.

  "Well, I do look forward to meeting her when she does make the journey to Kent. I have heard nothing but kind things about her from the Bingleys as well as her ladyship. It seems to me she is the sort of young lady to exercise a wholesome influence on her friends. I should very much like for my sister to meet her if the occasion arises. I daresay she will be presented at court and make her debut in society soon?"

  Colonel Fitzwilliam gave William a significant look, and Elizabeth understood. Charlotte would never assume Miss Darcy would be presented at court or enter into society if she knew the young lady's reputation was questionable.

  Elizabeth could have embraced the colonel in her gratitude when William smiled, the solemnity in his manners evaporated by the truth. He said, "Nay, Mrs. Collins. My sister has enough to manage, living under the watchful eye of a society eager to find fault with the smallest flaw. I would rather not place the burden of perfection on her shoulders just yet, but simply allow her to be the sweet young lady she is."

  He looked at Elizabeth, and she attempted to convey forgiveness to his silent plea while also communicating that he not allow such a disagreement to repeat itself. She never wanted to suffer from a misunderstanding again! It was dreadful.

  Peace settled over the room until the door opened. Lady Catherine swooped in like a hawk with her piercing eyes intent on her prey — intent on Elizabeth.

  Behind her was the blacksmith, a burly man with large arms who did not look pleased in the least to be there.

  Elizabeth's heart leapt into her throat when she saw the pair of irons in his hand.

  Lifting her cane to point at Elizabeth, Lady Catherine said, "Arrest this woman for the murder of Miss Anne de Bourgh."

  Darcy placed himself between Elizabeth and his aunt, smacking the tip of her cane to the floor. Richard, Darcy was relieved to see, blocked the constable's path.

  Mr. Collins was of no use at all. God forbid he protect a cousin accused by her ladyship. He fell back against his chair, his failure to offer any defense a clear demonstration of where his loyalties lay.

&nbs
p; Mrs. Collins, however, spoke. "It is a serious accusation you make, your ladyship. Pray, what evidence have you to offer as proof?"

  Aunt Catherine looked as if she would object, but Richard appealed to her. "Come, Aunt Catherine. If the constable is to make an arrest, he needs adequate proof to do so or else risk the reputation — and the life — of Miss Bennet. If you truly wish for justice to be served, you must state your reasons for making such a bold accusation."

  "Anne was doing well until she came," Aunt Catherine seethed.

  Darcy heard Elizabeth shuffle behind him, but he did not look away from his aunt or the constable. "That is hardly condemning evidence."

  "She had a motive, you know she did!" his aunt exclaimed, her face glowing red.

  "Then voice it before the constable as you will have to do at the next assizes." William returned her stare, challenging her to speak the truth about her daughter before an outsider.

  She sniffed, raising her nose in the air. "Miss Bennet felt that my daughter had insulted her vanity when she offered her a position as a companion in our household."

  The constable did not appear shocked. Instead, he loosened his hold on the irons, letting them dangle in his hand.

  Elizabeth now stood beside Darcy, her arm close enough to touch his. "A position which I immediately refused, explaining my valid and unwavering reasons for doing so to Miss de Bourgh in no uncertain terms."

  "And yet, you were to be our guest for another three weeks. You feared she would convince you in that time, and so you took the easy path and got rid of her." The veins in Aunt Catherine's neck bulged in her ire.

  "You are greatly mistaken, your ladyship, if you believe I could not have borne her constant humiliations for so short a time."

  Stabbing her cane against the floor, she said, "And how can you explain your attempt to ruin an engagement established since her birth? From the beginning, you have intended to steal Darcy away from her. When you found out their engagement was to be announced at the ball we planned to host, you killed her before any announcement could be made." Aunt Catherine shook in her passion.

  Darcy interfered. "Aunt Catherine, you must calm yourself. Think of your health."

  "I will not rest until I avenge Anne!"

  "Then make further inquiries, for Miss Bennet did not kill her. If Miss Bennet's intention was to steal me away from Anne, as you accuse, then why did she refuse my proposal? Your accusation has no foundation, and you are grasping at straws."

  "If her intention was to refuse, then why did she accept a gift from you only yesterday?" Aunt Catherine snapped. "That is the work of an ambitious miss eager to marry above her station."

  Worry pounded through Darcy's head and hammered in his ears. Elizabeth had known the danger in accepting his gift, otherwise she would not have apologized to him. Would his kindness, and her appropriate acceptance of it, be rewarded with punishment? Never!

  "If that is the only proof you can offer, you have nothing," he said.

  Aunt Catherine waved her cane in front of her. "What further proof must I provide? As our guest she had the means to slip into Mrs. Jenkinson's room and steal her bottle of laudanum to pour into Anne's medicine. She had sufficient motive given her quarrel with my daughter about her future and her ambitious desire to become the next mistress of Pemberley above all else. She would have gained a fortune and a large estate, and Anne was the only one who stood in her way."

  She nodded to the constable who stepped toward Elizabeth.

  Darcy instinctively hooked his arm around her, placing her behind his shoulder. Her icy fingers found their way into his hand, and he felt her face against the back of his arm as she pressed against him. He stood solid, giving her his full support. He would not allow any more harm to befall her.

  Mr. Collins sprang to his feet. With a bow, he said, "I do hope her ladyship will not withhold her magnanimous beneficence from a humble man in the service of God merely because he has been so unfortunate to be attached by familial bonds to one accused."

  Darcy gawked at the despicable man groveling at the feet of his patroness.

  "Nay, Mr. Collins. Rather, I applaud your good sense in marrying the lady who became Mrs. Collins in her stead. Had you acted otherwise, I would have insisted that the Archbishop of Canterbury remove your status as the rector of my estate based on the unsuitability of your cousin."

  Darcy felt Elizabeth's weight against him. He grasped her hand tighter when he saw the heat in her cheeks contrasted against her blanched skin.

  She mumbled into his sleeve, "Will this nightmare never end?"

  Darcy could end it. And he did. He spoke before he had time to convince himself to act more rationally, though he could not hear his own voice over the pounding of his own heart. "You cannot arrest her. I will confess to the murder of my cousin, Miss Anne de Bourgh, if you will set Miss Bennet free and never approach her again."

  Chapter 31

  Elizabeth felt as if all the air had been sucked out of her. Her legs felt weak under her when William was wrenched out of her arms. She reached out to steady herself against the door that separated her from him.

  He gave up everything he held dear for me, repeated like a chant in her mind, over and over.

  While the clear proof of his love made her spirits soar, she would spare him — a man too honorable and good — from the loss of everything Lady Catherine had taunted him with only an hour before. She started out of the room, intent on chasing the constable down the stairs where she would … figure something out!

  "Lizzy!" exclaimed Charlotte.

  Elizabeth turned and saw the only thing that would prevent her from stopping the constable from taking William away: Lady Catherine slumped in a chair, her beloved cane fallen to the floor. Colonel Fitzwilliam held her head up, the look of concern on his face chilling Elizabeth to the bone and stopping her cold. Lady Catherine was not pretending.

  "She has suffered an apoplexy," he said.

  Charlotte waved a vial of smelling salts in front of the great lady who now looked fragile and harmless with half of her face drooping and the other half stunned as her eyes searched the room for something it frustrated her not to find. She exclaimed, but her speech was slurred and unintelligible.

  Elizabeth would not add the burden of William's aunt's health to the weight he took upon himself. Rushing over to them, Elizabeth picked the cane up from the floor and guided Lady Catherine's hand to the top, holding her hand in place with her own. She was dreadfully cold. Cold like death.

  "Mr. Collins, fetch the doctor immediately," she ordered, rubbing Lady Catherine's hand to restore some warmth and encouraging Charlotte to do the same with her other hand when she saw how it calmed the elderly woman.

  Mr. Collins moved from the corner where he had hidden himself into action with impressive rapidity.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam said, "She is unable to hold her head up on her own. We had best see her to her bedchamber."

  Charlotte placed Lady Catherine's hand gently in her ladyship's lap. "I will fetch her maid and a few footmen to help us and inform Mrs. Beeton of what has happened. She will see to her ladyship's room and comfort." She scurried away to make the needed arrangements.

  Lady Catherine attempted to say something which they could not understand. Whether it was as a result of the apoplexy or her own frustration, Elizabeth did not know, but a tear trickled down her ladyship's wrinkled face. Elizabeth dabbed it away with a handkerchief and wondered what her dear sister Jane would do in her situation.

  "There now, your ladyship. We will take good care of you until your doctor arrives and gives us instructions," Elizabeth said tenderly.

  She took no delight in the sudden illness to strike Lady Catherine. Seeing the grand lady looking so small in her chair made it easy for Elizabeth to forgive her patronizing comments — at least, temporarily.

  Lady Catherine attempted to speak again, huffing in frustration when only drunken gibberish escaped her.

  A thought occurred to Eliz
abeth and she asked Mr. Collins, who had only recently returned, to fetch a slate. Perhaps her ladyship would have greater success writing than speaking.

  He returned with a slate in short time, eager to do anything to please her ladyship even though he would have fed his own cousin to the dogs. Elizabeth was grateful he had not turned his attention to her other sisters when she had refused his offer of marriage, but she pitied Charlotte. She must be miserably unhappy.

  Lady Catherine struggled to hold onto the chalk, but with wobbly handwriting she was able to form her letters. Darcy, it read.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam asked, "Do you wish for us to retrieve him?"

  Her assent was clear, even without the "Y" she scribbled on the slate.

  Finally, Charlotte returned with a small army of footmen and maids headed by Mrs. Beeton and the butler.

  Elizabeth knelt down beside Lady Catherine. "We will bring him to you. We both know he would never have harmed your daughter."

  Another tear trickled down Lady Catherine's cheek, and Elizabeth dabbed it dry, gasping in shock when Lady Catherine dropped the chalk and grabbed Elizabeth's hand brusquely. She squeezed Elizabeth's hand, wrinkling the handkerchief horribly in their clasp, with the ferocity of one unable to voice what she so desperately wished to communicate. Her eyes swam with tears, and Elizabeth sensed her regret (one emotion short of an apology, which Elizabeth never dreamed of coming from her ladyship) as well as gratitude (another surprising emotion from her ladyship, especially given that Elizabeth was the recipient).

  Colonel Fitzwilliam ensured Lady Catherine was transferred to the cot the footmen carried as gently as a father laying his newborn child down for a nap. But once he had seen to his aunt's comfort, he headed for the corridor in a flash, shouting for his horse to be made ready without delay. Elizabeth ran after him. There was no way she would not accompany him.