“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.”
“Mrs. Jenkinson seemed content to reunite with her husband and child. Her only concern seemed to be Miss de Bourgh.” Elizabeth watched the man’s expression. “It might be comforting to Miss Anne if you shared your feelings of loss. I barely knew the woman, and even though yours was a short acquaintance, you and the lady seemed to have an affinity for one another.”
Mr.Worth spoke softly.“I would have liked to have known Mrs. Jenkinson better.”
Elizabeth sat forward to press her point. “Miss de Bourgh spent the past ten years in Mrs. Jenkinson’s company. It might help Mr. Darcy’s cousin to speak of her friend with someone else who appreciated the lady.”
“You are very wise, Mrs. Darcy.” Worth seemed to relax a bit. “Does Mr. Darcy realize what a find he has in you, ma’am?”
Elizabeth stood to leave. “I remind Mr. Darcy of that fact daily, Mr. Worth.” She smiled. “I believe Miss de Bourgh hides in the music room, sir.”
“I will seek her out, Mrs. Darcy. Thank you for being so perceptive.”
“Miss de Bourgh.” Worth came quietly into the room. He paused upon seeing the hunched figure of Mrs. Jenkinson’s friend. He finally forced himself to approach the distraught Anne de Bourgh. “I thought it might help both of us if we could speak of Mrs. Jenkinson. Of course, if you prefer to remain alone, I will understand.” He edged forward, coming to where she sat curled up in the chair.
Anne quickly wiped her eyes and looked up in surprise. “Mr. Worth.”
He bowed low. “I apologize for disturbing your privacy, Miss de Bourgh.”
“You are not disturbing me, sir.” Anne thought of sitting up properly in the chair, but she rejected that automatic response. She was in mourning and needed to follow the promptings of her heart, not the stilted rules of etiquette.“I would appreciate your company, sir. Mildred Jenkinson meant the world to me, and I would like for you to know my friend as I did.”
Worth pointed to a nearby chair. “May I?”
Anne de Bourgh nodded her agreement.
For two hours, they sat together. Some tears came, but laughter also peppered the conversation. When a servant brought tea and cakes, compliments of Mrs. Darcy, neither seemed surprised.
“Mrs. Darcy thinks of everything,” Worth remarked as he took the tea she offered.
“My cousin chose the perfect woman for himself,” Anne observed. “I am afraid that I could never handle an estate the size of Pemberley. I am too faint-hearted.”
Worth looked disturbed. “Mildred Jenkinson believed in you, Miss de Bourgh. Although I knew that lady only a short time, I came to value her opinions. If Mrs. Jenkinson thought you capable, I would have the same opinion.”
Anne blushed. “I have had few opportunities to exercise my will over any situation. Speaking to the whole group this morning was the first time I can ever remember addressing more than two people at one time. Is that not the most ridiculous assertion to ever come from a woman’s mouth?”
Worth looked on in feigned amusement. This woman knew Lady Catherine’s censure always pressing upon her, holding her down. Yet he had brief sightings of the capable woman whom Mildred Jenkinson described so tenderly. “I would like to see you honor Mrs. Jenkinson’s memory by no longer hiding the real you. I believe the lady would smile down from heaven if she knew.”
Impulsively, Anne touched his hand. “Do you believe I can be that person, Mr.Worth?”
He brought her soft hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “I do, Miss de Bourgh, and while we are at Pemberley, I am going to make it my personal mission to help you find that woman.”
As his staff cleared the last course, Darcy looked up to see a very agitated-looking butler standing beside him. Darcy nodded, and the man leaned in to whisper his news. Darcy’s heart lurched, and he instinctively gripped the chair’s arms. His eye caught Elizabeth’s, and he told her with a nearly imperceptible shake of his head that they had more trouble.
Elizabeth rose to her feet. “Ladies, might I have the pleasure of your company in the drawing room. Let us leave the men to their port and cigars.”
The men saw the women to the drawing room and then retired to Darcy’s study.The door had barely closed before Darcy told the others what he knew.“Gentlemen, I need your assistance.The body of one of my younger footmen has been found outside. I would like for you to accompany me to where he lies and then to a room in the east wing. The light grows thin, and we should examine the scene first.”
They made haste, choosing to exit the house through the servants’ entrance rather than signaling trouble by leaving through the front door. It took only moments to find the body. The boy lay spread-eagled, face down, in the snow—his face buried in at least six inches of damp whiteness.
“Who found him?” Darcy asked Murray as he slowly turned the body over.
“Lucas saw something from the ballroom window. He was cleaning the wall sconces in there. When he investigated, this is what he discovered.”
Adam Lawrence knelt beside Darcy. “When was that exactly?”
“Less than a half hour ago, sir. Mr. Baldwin thought it best to handle this as discreetly as possible.”
“Thank you, Murray.” His footman stepped back to await other orders.
Worth walked back and forth along the edge of the house, examining the bushes and window casements. Meanwhile, Darcy and Lawrence took note of the young Lawson’s injuries. “He has some broken bones, but if he fell from the open window above, that would be consistent with his fall,” Lawrence mused aloud.
“As would the contusion on his forehead.”
They found nothing at the scene to tell them what had happened, so Darcy led the men to the room above. “These are the chambers where I thought I saw someone when we returned from Lambton that first night.” He held the door wide for the others.
The window standing fully wide made the room bitterly cold. However, nothing seemed out of place. They moved cautiously, each of them expecting some sort of evil to be lurking within, but the room was spotless, and everything was pristine.
“I see nothing unusual here,” Worth remarked as he circled to the left.
“Only the open window,” Stafford murmured.
Darcy crossed to where he could look out the opening. From that position, he could see the image of Lawson’s body still in the snow.“He evidently went out head first.There are no scratch marks on the sill, which would indicate that he was not fighting to keep from falling.”
“So you do not believe that someone threw him from the window?” Lawrence asked as he came to stand beside Darcy.
“I am not saying that, but I can attest to there being no struggle—no boot marks on the wall or the casing—nothing broken. It seems that he went out…willingly.”
“This may explain it.” Worth leaned over the bed to peer at a note lying open on the coverlet. Darcy and Lawrence joined him immediately. None of them touched the note, but their eyes searched the words for answers.
Mr. Darcy and My Pemberley Family,
I beg your forgiveness. I done evil and now I must pay. It is said that hell is full of good intentions, and although I intended to bring honor to me family’s memory, temptation and false pride led me astray. I took some of Pemberley’s treasures and sold them for me own benefit. I be jealous of what others had, and I took what I thought I deserved, but it be wrong to steal.To make matters worse, I lost the money in cards. It be a sad life, and I can stand it no longer. He that knows no guilt knows no fear.
“A suicide note?” Lawrence wondered aloud.
Worth moved to the window. “It would appear so.”
Darcy pocketed the confession, knowing he would need to add it to his extensive notes for the magistrate. “This would answer the question of the missing items and maybe even the intruder in Georgiana’s chambers, but it says nothing of the string rope or the arsenic.”
“It speaks of doing evil,”Worth observed before turning back to where Darcy stood. “Maybe that is what he meant.”
“I think I have as many questions as answers.” Darcy examined the window again before closing it. “We should rejoin the women; they will wonder what has kept us.”
“Are we speaking of this to the ladies?” Lawrence asked as he picked up the candle.
Darcy followed with a light of his own. “Do we have a choice at this juncture?”
“I suppose not.”
Ten minutes later, they put on their bravest faces and made their way into the drawing room. “Ah, Darcy,” his aunt called. “We thought to play whist.”
He walked past Lady Catherine and straight to where Elizabeth sat on a settee. Taking a place beside her, Darcy captured her hand in his. “We should speak about something else, Your Ladyship. If you would all join us.” Darcy gestured to the nearby chairs.
Tentatively, they followed his suggestion, each biting back newfound fears.
“Fitzwilliam?” Elizabeth whispered close to his ear, but he did not respond. Instead, he gently squeezed her hand and then let his thumb trace circles on the inside of her wrist.
When everyone had settled, Darcy cleared his throat. “The viscount, Mr. Worth, and I have spent the better part of the past hour examining a situation in the east wing of the house. The body of one of the Pemberley footmen was found lying face down in the snow while we were still at supper.”
“Oh, no!” Mrs.Williams gasped.
“Which one?” Elizabeth demanded.
Darcy turned his head to look at her. “Lawson.”
Georgiana audibly caught her breath and reached for Lady Catherine’s hand for comfort.
His aunt demanded, “What happened, Darcy?”
Her nephew took up the tale again. “I asked Murray to send Lawson to me today. A report had reached me of the young man shirking his duties—going missing for an hour or more at a time. I felt it prudent to first speak to the boy and then to make my decision to either release him from duties or find a more suitable match for his interests. However, the lad had disappeared. At first, I thought it because he knew of my objections and wanted to avoid our talk. I was in error. The boy, evidently, had decided to punish himself for what he considered to be violations of my trust. It appears from a suicide note that Lawson took his own life by jumping from a third-floor window.”
Cathleen voiced the dissent. “That makes no sense, Mr. Darcy.”
“I agree, Miss Donnel.” He paused before beginning again.“But the room shows no signs of a struggle. Lawson’s body has a laceration on the forehead and what appears to be several broken bones, but those could have come from the fall.”
“Then what killed the young man?” Lydia tried to understand.
Lawrence provided a possible scenario. “The impact, possibly, or maybe the cold. We have no idea how long the young man lay there before someone noticed him.”
“What motive did the suicide note mention?” Anne asked.
“Theft of some of my property, supposedly for spending money and gambling—cards.”
Elizabeth became the voice of opposition. “But you gave Lawson a home when he had lost everything—when his father died in the fire. He was always so appreciative. Is it possible that he was still grieving his losses and fell into a depression?”
Miss Donnel asked what none of them could explain. “Even if that was true, Mrs. Darcy, why would the boy add arsenic to Mrs. Jenkinson’s drink?”
“Maybe Lawson feared her identifying him. He was out with my steward when the lady viewed my staff. He was the only one she did not inspect.”
Lydia chimed in,“But I thought your cook said there was a new footman?”
Elizabeth looked for an explanation. “Lawson has been with us less than three months. Perhaps Mrs. Jennings considers him new in comparison with the others in our employ.We could call her in and ask her.”
“Perhaps later, Elizabeth.” Darcy gently pulled her closer to him.
Anne’s quiet voice interrupted the others. “How do we know the lad took his own life? Other than the note, that is?”
“Just the note, Anne. And the apparent lack of a struggle,” Darcy responded.
Worth had joined Anne on a small sofa. “The boy confessed to his thievery and begged Mr. Darcy’s forgiveness, Miss de Bourgh. He never admitted to Mrs. Jenkinson’s attack, but he claimed to have done evil.”
“At least, we know who caused us so many hours of anguish,” Lady Catherine murmured.
Suddenly, Georgiana jerked her hand away from her aunt’s. As Darcy watched, an acknowledgment of truth passed unspoken between his sister and his wife. “Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth hissed, “you should speak to Georgiana.”
Darcy’s voice softened, but a demand remained in his tone. “Georgiana, do you have something to tell us?”
The girl squirmed under everyone’s complete attention. “It…it could not,” she faltered, “could not have been Lawson who wrote the note.”
“How do you know, Georgiana?” Darcy probed.
His sister swallowed hard. “After…after Elizabeth spoke to me today…oh, Elizabeth!” she wailed. The tears flowed down her cheeks, and she buried her face in her hands.
“May I?” Elizabeth came to his sister’s rescue. Georgiana nodded as she sobbed. “One of Mr. Darcy’s complaints against Lawson was that Murray had found him alone with Miss Darcy late at night. I should explain that my sister often goes to the music room when she cannot sleep. Although Murray assured us nothing untoward had happened, I questioned Georgiana regarding the incident.The reason Georgiana knows that Lawson could not write the note is because she was tutoring the boy. Lawson wanted to eventually apprentice under our steward, Mr. Steventon. To do so, the boy needed to learn to read and write. For the past month, Georgiana has given Lawson lessons. She did so without her brother’s knowledge because Lawson did not want to admit this lack to Mr. Darcy.”
“Lawson could not write a confession.” Georgiana raised her head to face the others. “He just recently learned to write his name,” she quietly shared.
“Lord,” Lawrence nearly moaned, “that compounds the mystery. Someone made Lawson’s death appear to be a suicide. If Lawson did not commit the crimes, who did?”