Shedding their snow-covered outerwear in a small room off the kitchen, the group made their way to the blue drawing room. Mr. Baldwin had built a roaring fire in the hearth, and the cozy sitting room offered the warmth they all desperately sought.
“Ah, this is perfect,” Mrs.Williams commented as she took one of the arranged cups of heated apple cider and headed for a chair near the fireplace.
“Oh yes,” Lydia Wickham asserted, spreading her fingers around her cup of hot liquid.
Each took comfort in the steaming brew. “This is excellent cider,” Mr.Worth declared.
“You should send a cup up to Miss Donnel, Lord Stafford.”
Adam ignored Mrs. Wickham’s suggestion, pretending not to hear her as he walked toward the bay windows.
Anne laughed lightly. “The rest of us are devouring the spicy mixture, and Mildred still partakes of her icicle. Are you not cold, Mildred?” Everyone’s attention fell on the older woman.
“It is cold,” she admitted, “but it is so refreshing.” The lady slid the last inch of the stick into her mouth.
Mr. Worth came up behind Mrs. Jenkinson. “I think the lady very practical. She uses the ice to offset the heat of the cider she will soon drink.”
Blowing on the cup she held to cool it down, Anne added,“My companion is a very practical woman.”
“I bend to your wishes,” Mildred Jenkinson said and nodded her head in acknowledgment of their good-natured teasing. She reached for the tray’s last remaining cup, as did Elizabeth Darcy, who had just entered the room. She had given Mr. Baldwin orders regarding their guests’ cloaks, coats, and gloves. “Ah, Mrs. Darcy, please.” Mildred quickly withdrew her hand. “You must have the last cup.”
“Nonsense, Mrs. Jenkinson.” Elizabeth gestured to the steaming mixture. “The cider is yours.You must take it—I insist.”
The older woman hesitated. “But it is your home, ma’am.”
Elizabeth knew how to put people at ease. “Please take it, Mrs. Jenkinson. If you do, I will have a legitimate excuse to send Mr. Baldwin for another cup of the hot chocolate that I so enjoy of late.”
“If you are certain, Mrs. Darcy.”
“Absolutely.”
Mrs. Jenkinson appreciatively took the offering and swallowed a mouthful of the spicy drink.“I have never tasted better cider,” she commented before taking another large sip.
“I told you the ice would increase your tolerance of the heat,” Worth announced.
Mrs. Jenkinson laughed at herself. “I suppose you correct, Mr. Worth.” She took a third sip and struck up a conversation with that gentleman about the many places she had visited with her late husband.
The exuberance of the party waned as the warmth of the room seeped into their bones.
“I believe I shall freshen up,” Mrs.Williams announced to those who sat nearby.
“That is an excellent idea,” Anne agreed. “Mildred, I am to our rooms.”
The lady lightly touched Anne’s hand. “I will be there in a moment, my Dear. I want to finish telling Mr.Worth about the late Mr. Jenkinson’s love of Denmark.”
“Take your time.” Anne squeezed the woman’s hand. “You so rarely have a chance to share your wonderful stories with someone other than me.”
Adam returned his cup to the tray. “I shall check on Cathleen.” He bowed and quietly left the room.
Within minutes, everyone had deserted the blue room for his or her own quarters. Everyone, that is, except Mrs. Jenkinson and Mr. Worth. The two seemed to have a real affinity for each other, and they chatted away in front of a full fire on that winter day.
“Mr. Darcy.” Murray stopped him in the front foyer before Darcy climbed the stairs for the evening. “Might I speak to you, sir?”
Darcy, weary from the day and from his constant worries, considered putting off the conversation until morning, but he indulged the man. “What may I do for you, Murray?”
The footman motioned Darcy to a private corner.“I-I have,” he stammered. “That is to say, sir—”
“Yes?” Darcy glanced toward the main stairs, needing to be with Elizabeth and a night’s peace.
The footman swallowed hard. “Well, you see, sir…I thought of something earlier, and Mr. Baldwin says I should tell you.”
Darcy’s full attention now rested on his servant. “Go on.”
“I thought you should know, sir, that I have spoken to young Lawson on three different occasions about not fulfilling his duties.”
“What do you mean, Murray?” Lawson was the one footman that Mrs. Jenkinson had not seen that day.
“The boy disappears for long periods of time, sir.” Immediately, Darcy wondered if Lawson was the one he had seen in the east wing. “I have addressed him twice. Plus, a fortnight ago I caught him in the music room with Miss Darcy. It was one of the evenings that your sister came down to play after everyone else had retired. We were having trouble with the fireplace in there, so I waited until everyone was asleep to clean it out.”
“Caught him in the music room with Miss Darcy?” Darcy’s rage rose quickly. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing untoward, sir. They sat together in the room on the music bench. I simply did not think it appropriate, sir.”
Darcy would need to consult with Elizabeth. The last time he had confronted his sister regarding her speaking to a man while unchaperoned, he had done Georgiana more harm than good. His wife would know how to approach the subject without giving offense. “Would you tell Lawson I wish to speak to him before he goes off duty in the morning?”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.”
“And, Murray, I do not want the boy to have access to my sister alone late at night again—maybe we should see about transferring him to Mr. Steventon now. I wanted to wait until he turned eighteen, but we should see to it sooner.”
“I agree, Mr. Darcy.” Murray took the safety of the family personally. “I am sure that nothing happened, sir,” he added.
Darcy glanced toward the stairs again. The phrase Georgiana, lovely Georgiana rang in his head. Could Lawson be Georgiana’s intruder? “Just let me speak to the boy first—I have some questions to which I require answers.”
Murray nodded and bowed and departed. Slowly, Darcy trudged up the stairs. He hated the disorder surrounding him at the moment. Maybe Mr. Baldwin is right, he thought. Maybe a curse besets this household. No other explanation seemed as plausible.
In the middle of the night, a light but persistent tapping brought Darcy to his wife’s bedchamber door. He almost expected to see Georgiana huddling in the dimly lit hallway—perhaps her night-mares had returned. Finding his cousin took him by surprise.
“Anne,” he whispered, trying to let Elizabeth go back to sleep. “What is the matter?”
Tears ran down his cousin’s cheeks. “Please come,” she pleaded. “It is Mildred. She is very ill. I cannot…I cannot lose her.”
Darcy shoved the door open. “Let me—” he began, but then Elizabeth slipped his shirt into his hand. “Lead the way,” he indicated, pulling the shirt over his head as they hurried through the hallway.
He heard Elizabeth behind them.When she turned toward the servants’ staircase, he intuitively knew that she sought Mrs. Reynolds for medical help. He followed Anne to Mildred Jenkinson’s small room. The woman’s gaunt figure thrashed about in pain. Darcy rushed over to steady her, making sure that her violent movements did not cause her to fall from the raised mattress.
“Light more candles, Anne,” he ordered as he touched the woman’s head, checking for a fever. “She is cool and damp to the touch. Bring a cloth and some water.” Darcy took the woman’s shoulders and repositioned her in bed.
Mrs. Reynolds, followed by Elizabeth, rushed into the room. Both women were wearing muslin gowns and robes, with their hair in long braids down their backs. He often considered how his housekeeper had taken on the role of Elizabeth’s mother some time ago, but this picture solidified the image. Mrs. Reynolds pushed him out of the way so that she could examine the woman.“Tell me what you know of her illness,” she demanded. She touched Mrs. Jenkinson’s stomach, and the woman recoiled in pain. “She has a tenderness in her lower abdomen.”
“Mildred ate so little at supper,” Anne barely whispered as she came to the bed’s end. She handed Darcy the water bowl and the cloth. “She said she did not feel well; we thought maybe she took an ague, being out in the cold so long today.” Elizabeth moved beside Anne, sliding an arm around the woman’s waist. “She took a tray in her room, saying she was chilled.” Anne caught the post for support, swaying in place.“Mildred never complains, so I knew that she was not well; I kept checking on her. She has been experiencing stomach pains for several hours. I came for you, Fitzwilliam, when she brought up her meal in the chamber pot I held for her.”
Darcy moved to where he could see the pot. He knew from his parents’ final illnesses that the contents of one’s stomach give clues to the illness. The yellowish tint of the congealed liquid in the pot told him that his cousin’s companion suffered greatly. Mrs. Jenkinson’s body shook with pain. “If I did not know better,” Mrs. Reynolds spoke for Darcy’s ears alone, “I would suspect cholera. I saw cases of it when I was a mere child, and this woman shows all the signs.”
He shook his head in denial, and the woman who had served him for six and twenty years swallowed her words.“Let us try some warm barley water to settle her stomach. Mrs. Darcy, will you ask Mrs. Jennings to send up some barley water and maybe some peppermint or ginger?”
Elizabeth nodded and rushed from the room. Mrs. Jenkinson’s eyes flew open in terror. She fought to reach the edge of the bed. Darcy brought the pot to her as Mrs. Reynolds supported the woman’s body. Mildred Jenkinson retched repeatedly—her body convulsing. Blood and saliva seeped from the corners of her mouth; however, nothing but dry heaves came from her efforts.“Rest now,” Mrs. Reynolds whispered as she gently pushed the woman back against the pillows.
“Anne, come closer…my Girl.” The hoarseness of Mildred’s voice caused Anne to tear up again, but she went to sit by her only friend. With much difficulty, the woman offered Anne peace. “I will…see my…husband and baby girl soon.”
“No!”Anne pleaded, grasping the woman’s hand in hers, kissing it gently.
The pain caused Mrs. Jenkinson to contract, but she continued her farewells. “Find your heart …my Girl…let love…guide you.”A paroxysm shook her—and then a shudder released it slowly through her clenched teeth as the woman collapsed in a final peace. Mildred Jenkinson breathed her last breath.
Moments later, Elizabeth rushed into the room to find a terrible tableau. Mrs. Jenkinson lay lifeless on the bed, with a sobbing Anne de Bourgh lying across the woman’s body. Mrs. Reynolds stood with her face buried in Darcy’s shoulder as he lightly stroked the woman’s hair. Elizabeth gasped and froze like the others for a brief moment before she took charge.“Come, Anne,” she said and pulled her husband’s cousin into her embrace.“Let me take you from here.”
His wife’s voice brought Darcy out of his trance. He turned Mrs. Reynolds in his arms before catching Elizabeth’s eye. His wife mouthed “Georgiana,” and he nodded his agreement. He would not entrust Anne to her mother’s care this evening. Lady Catherine could not offer the compassion his cousin needed.
“Mrs. Reynolds,” he sat the woman away from him, “find Mr. Baldwin. Move Mrs. Jenkinson’s body to the other wing. I do not want it where it might remind my cousin of her loss. It is too cold and the ground too frozen to bury the lady right away. Clean this room from top to bottom in case of disease, although I do not suspect any such condition exists here.We will need to move Miss de Bourgh to other quarters and assign someone to be with her at all times.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.” She wiped her eyes on her gown’s sleeve.
“I will want to speak to everyone in the morning. Set up the main drawing room. We need to reach the bottom of this—the missing items, Miss Darcy’s visitor, Miss Donnel’s fall, a phantom footman, and now this.”
Mrs. Reynolds frowned in puzzlement. “Do you suspect foul play? Not at Pemberley, sir!”
“Something is rotten in the state of Denmark,” he murmured as he pulled the sheet up to cover Mrs. Jenkinson’s face. “Please send Mrs. Jennings to my study right away.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.”
Nearly an hour later, Elizabeth found him in his sanctuary. He stood before the fireplace, his head resting on his arm as he leaned against the mantel for support. “I brought your robe, as well as stockings to warm your feet.”
Darcy glanced as his bare toes. “I hardly noticed.”
Elizabeth came forward to hold the robe for him. Absentmindedly, Darcy slid his arms into the sleeves. Going on her tiptoes, she straightened the material across his shoulders and turned him around to cinch the cloth belt in front. Darcy allowed his wife to address his needs, but he never saw her: He watched a scene of horror over her shoulder—seeing what no one else saw. “Come,” she pulled on his hand and led Darcy to a nearby wing chair. “Let me pour you a brandy.” Elizabeth found the decanter and a glass and filled it. Handing it to her husband, she ordered,“Drink this.”Then she dropped to her knees before him and began to cover his feet with stockings. “I brought your old dance shoes,” she explained. “I did not think I could wrestle on boots.”
Darcy sipped the drink, slowly becoming aware of Elizabeth’s tender care.“Anne?” he asked as his wife rested her chin on his knee.
“Mrs. Reynolds gave her something to help her sleep. She shares a bed with Georgiana.Your sister showed such mature compassion; I was very proud of her.”
“How do we handle this?” Darcy’s voice sounded far away.
Elizabeth came up on her knees, where she might give him comfort. “We cannot reach the magistrate. Mr. Baldwin says it is snowing again.You will need to do the investigation yourself.There has to be a logical explanation: A woman who is thoroughly enjoying herself, as Mrs. Jenkinson was today, simply does not suddenly up and die.”
Darcy gave a little tug on Elizabeth’s hand, and she came willingly into his embrace, curling up on his lap.“Nothing like this has ever happened at Pemberley,” he whispered into her hair, resting his head on hers.
“Then we aggressively seek the culprit.” Elizabeth’s words held a resolve. “The Darcy name will not be blackened in the country.”
“I wish I were as sure as you.” He tightened his arms around her as she snuggled against his chest. “I watched my father devote his every breath to protect this estate, and I was groomed in his image. I always thought the threat would come from without—the factory’s draw on the workers—but the real demon is within these walls.”
“We will find who performs this farce if we have to tear down the walls to reach him.”
Darcy stroked her back as he contemplated what to do next. “I intend to speak to our guests in the morning. As much as I do not wish to frighten them, I must make them aware of what goes on in my home.” Elizabeth heard the defeat in his tone.
“Maybe someone saw something and took no notice of it originally. Your words tomorrow may jog a witness’s memory and help us unwind this mystery. Please, Husband, you must believe this will resolve itself.”
“Oh, Elizabeth, what would I do without you?” He kissed her forehead before tasting her mouth. Raising his head, he looked deeply into her eyes. “You will not leave me if this turns bad?”
“Never!” she declared. “Listen to me, Fitzwilliam Darcy. I will never be disloyal to you. You are my world. If you ever hear me repeat a disparaging word about you, then you will know I am being made to do so under duress. I would fight your enemies with the ferocity of a she-bear.” She cupped his chin in her palm.“I love you to distraction.”
Darcy’s smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “A she bear? You are too petite, my Love.” He kissed her tenderly. “Thank you, Elizabeth. I needed to hear your determination in order to put my desolation aside. Of course, we will find the culprit and bring him to justice.”
“Let us to bed.Although neither of us will sleep, I do not intend to spend what is left of the night curled up in this chair.” Elizabeth stood and offered him her hand.
Darcy followed her to his feet. “You brought life to this house after it had been silent for so long. I will not allow death to hold us hostage again.”
At eight in the morning, Darcy summoned everyone to the main drawing room. He told no one what had happened, only that he needed to see everyone—no exceptions. His aunt objected, but Darcy brooked no challenge to his authority. He even requested that Anne join them, although he spent time offering her his comfort first.
Thirty minutes later, they all gathered in his favorite room—an earth-toned drawing room off the main foyer. Darcy hated to sully it with his program for the day, but he needed the peace it gave him in order to face his guests. He and Elizabeth took up positions before the windows. He ignored his guests’ requests for information, instead directing them to the tea and biscuits he had ordered as a prelude to breakfast.
“Well, Darcy, I hope this is important.” Lady Catherine wore a brocade dressing gown, having refused to dress that early. However, he noted that she had styled her hair and rouged her cheeks before making an appearance. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine Her Ladyship’s disdain if any of the others had chosen to appear thusly.
“Please have a seat, Aunt. This shall not take long.” He gestured to the maid to pour Lady Catherine some tea.
Finally, Georgiana entered with a distraught-looking Anne de Bourgh clinging to the girl’s arm.
Lady Catherine placed her cup down hard.“Darcy, what is this? You promised me that you would keep things private.”
“And I shall.” He helped Anne to a nearby settee, pausing to caress her cheek and to whisper words of sympathy. “You make assumptions, Your Ladyship.” He returned to Elizabeth’s side.“We shall begin,” he announced in a steady tone he perfected over the years.
Nigel Worth glanced around the room. “We must wait on Mrs. Jenkinson,” he offered.
The mention of her companion’s name set Anne sobbing again. Georgiana slid her arm around her cousin’s shoulders to support her.
“That is part of why I have summoned you here this morning. Mrs. Jenkinson took suddenly ill and passed during the night.”
A collective gasp filled the room.Tears slid from Miss Donnel’s eyes, but she valiantly asked, “How is that possible, Mr. Darcy?”
“I will attempt to answer that question if you will bear with me for a few minutes.”
However, before he could continue, Lady Catherine shot to her feet. “I will take Anne to her room, Darcy. She should not be here.”
“Your Ladyship, I ask that you remain. Anne understands the importance of addressing everyone. Mrs. Darcy and my sister have tended my cousin for hours; she is in good hands. Besides, Anne is stronger than any of us have ever given her credit for. My cousin holds great fortitude.” He and Lady Catherine had a staring match, but his aunt finally succumbed to his request. Only a grumbled “I never!” escaped before she reached for her cup again.
Darcy motioned for his servants to leave before he continued. With the door securely closed behind them, he began his tale.“Two days before your arrivals, my wife’s horse spooked and threw her.”
“What does that fact have to do with Mrs. Jenkinson’s death?” Worth demanded.
“Please let me tell it all, Mr. Worth; I will keep my comments brief; but you must hear the complete tale.” Darcy paused until he received agreement. “I saw nothing before Mrs. Darcy found herself dumped unceremoniously on the ground, but she thought that she had seen a man hiding behind the trees. Although I searched, I found no traces—no footprints or broken tree limbs.Thinking it an animal, we resumed our lives. However, the next day, my sister thought she saw someone lurking about the cottagers’ houses.”
“Darcy,” Lady Catherine began, but she swallowed her objection when he glared at her.
“The next evening, Georgiana had what we thought to be a nightmare—she saw a light moving in her room.” Again, he anticipated their questions, but when none came, Darcy continued.“She also thought she heard a voice.”
Viscount Stafford leaned forward.“What did it say, Miss Darcy?”
Georgiana blushed with his notice. “Nothing really—simply called me by name.”
Darcy stepped forward to draw the group’s interest again.“Then my staff began to report unusual happenings. Mr. Stalling saw a shadowy figure in the Pemberley graveyard. Megs reported a missing candelabra. Mr. Baldwin followed with an account of missing bedding from a room in the east wing. I even thought I saw a person at a window in one of those rooms. It was the day we returned from Lambton—the day of the storm. Since that time, we have experienced Miss Donnel’s accident. His Lordship and I found a string across the steps leading us to believe that someone had planned the incident.”
Again, gasps filled the air. Instinctively, Elizabeth slipped her hand into Darcy’s, presenting a united front. She knew how much this madness hurt him, and she needed to remind Darcy of her complete devotion. He rewarded her with a gentle squeeze of recognition. The rest of her husband’s story would bring disbelief to the room’s occupants. “As Viscount Stafford and I dealt with Miss Donnel’s injury, Mrs. Jenkinson had a confrontation with a man she assumed was a staff member.This unknown man offered her a warning. Now, the lady is dead.”
Mr.Worth was on his feet and moving toward Darcy. “Surely, Mr. Darcy, you do not believe Mrs. Jenkinson’s passing an act of murder!”
“I do.”
A terrible silence smothered the room—Anne’s whimper being the only exception.
“You jest, Darcy!” Lady Catherine’s voice rang clear. Her incredulity spoke volumes.
His words’ gravity settled on everyone’s shoulders. “It is not a subject in which I might find humor, Aunt.”
Darcy listened with some relief when Adam Lawrence recapped for the room what Darcy had just shared. He thought, despite the man’s impetuous nature, that he could be one of Darcy’s greatest allies in this trouble: He needed another perspective.Then Lawrence inquired, “May I ask if Mrs. Jenkinson identified this phantom employee?”
“When I became aware of the lady’s accusations, I made arrangement for Mrs. Jenkinson to observe my male staff. However, she could not identify the man she encountered in the hallway. At first, I thought the lady protected a fellow servant, but I soon came to believe otherwise.”
Lawrence gazed at Darcy. “And why did you not tell us before now about your suspicions?”
Darcy swallowed hard. How can I explain that the reputation of my family’s name took precedence over my vigilance in this matter? I will be forever at fault in the lady’s death. “None of the events seemed connected. Often poachers appear on the property, and something is always misplaced in a house of this size. In retrospect, I know that I should have shared my concerns. But I thought that rumors of shadow people were simply my servants trying to explain the unexplainable.”
“And why might you now believe Mrs. Jenkinson’s death to be murder?” Lawrence’s tone remained accusatory.
“Because of the lady’s symptoms.” Darcy spoke softly, “Anne, might I prevail upon you to describe Mrs. Jenkinson’s progression?”
His cousin dabbed at her eyes, but her voice held a strength that Darcy admired. “After speaking to Mr. Worth, Mildred finally returned to our rooms. Shortly afterward, she complained of a mild headache and lightheadedness.” Anne glanced around suddenly, realizing that she spoke to the whole room—a completely new experience. For a moment, she panicked, but a squeeze of Georgiana’s hand gave her the courage to continue.“The stomach pains came next.We tried some dry toast, and I foolishly teased her for eating so much of the preserves when we were outside. Little did I know how she suffered : Poor Mildred relieved herself of part of her small meal several times. When she tried to speak, my friend’s voice was hoarse. Soon the blood and saliva seeped from her mouth.”The description of her companion’s demise brought on new grief and restarted her sobbing.
Mrs. Williams said aloud what all of them thought. “The lady seemed perfectly well when we attacked the hill yesterday.”
Viscount Stafford took up the questioning again. “Might you share with us, Mr. Darcy, what you believe killed the lady?”
“Arsenic.”The word reverberated off the walls. Unaware of her husband’s assumption, Elizabeth swayed and caught at Darcy’s arm, before he pulled her closer.
The viscount was on his feet immediately. “Arsenic? How would the lady consume arsenic?” He came to stand beside Cathleen, taking up a defensive stance.
“When Mrs. Reynolds tended the lady, she made a private observation that Mrs. Jenkinson’s symptoms mirrored many of those found in cholera.”
Cathleen caught Adam’s hand, but his attention remained on Darcy. “I assume, sir, that your housekeeper spoke out of turn.”
“Not entirely.” Darcy met the viscount’s resolve with one of his own.“Mrs. Jenkinson did exhibit symptoms of cholera, but not just of that disease. Her clammy skin, the tenderness in her stomach, and her dry heaves also spoke of poisoning. Luckily, the cups from yesterday’s cider remained in the blue room. One of them has the residue of what appears to be arsenic on the rim.”
“A person would not need a large dose to kill another, but would not Mrs. Jenkinson taste the arsenic?” Miss Donnel saw the faultiness of their assumptions.
“The lady had so many flavored ices,” Mr. Worth remarked, “that she drank the hot cider without needing it to cool.”
Adam sat on the arm of Cathleen’s chair. “I suppose she could numb her mouth enough to not taste the poison.”
“Women of a certain age consume a little arsenic on a regular basis,” Lady Catherine observed.“Possibly my daughter’s companion was one of those women. I have been known to occasionally rub a bit of arsenic on my face and arms to improve my complexion.”
The men looked a bit confused so Elizabeth explained, “Some women are known to mix arsenic with vinegar and chalk. They believe that if they eat this mixture it will make their skin appear paler.Women often exposed to the sun might resort to such drastic measures to achieve a fashionably pale complexion.”
Mrs. Williams remarked, “It amazes me that a woman would consider using a wood preservative on her skin or would consume a compound used for bullets or bronzing or paints.”
Lydia Wickham finally spoke. “But how could the murderer know that Mrs. Jenkinson would choose that particular cup?”
“Maybe you can answer that question yourself,” Lawrence asserted.
Lydia turned on him. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“I believe that you know more than you share, Mrs.Wickham.” Again he showed his protectiveness, keeping Cathleen close to him. “First, you were the one person already in the hallway when my cousin entered it the morning of her accident. Miss de Bourgh came next, and the two of you turned back to greet Mrs.Williams. Only Cathleen continued toward the stairs. Did you plan on hurting Cathleen or was someone else your target?”
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.