Mr. Darcy's Daughter (42 page)

he
declared with so much passion that Mr. Carr, still laughing at his friend's
exaggerated account of the tribulations of train travel, suggested that they
take his carriage. "It is comfortable and affords you some degree of
privacy, but it will take twice as long," he warned, "so, we had
better make a start immediately. We can go direct to the farm, where I shall
pick up my things, and we can take the carriage and my men. That way, we should
be on the road by one o'clock and have at least half a day's travelling done by
tonight."

They
wasted no more time. Darcy gathered together his things; Cassy found them Mrs.
Wickham's address outside of Meryton and wrote a note to Jonathan Bingley,
requesting his help.

"I
have written a note to your Uncle Jonathan Bingley, he is well known and
respected in the area and will help you locate Frank Wickham, I am sure. But,
be warned, Lydia Wickham is not an easy woman to deal with," she said, as
she bade them farewell.

Even
as she saw him go, Cassy was most uneasy about letting her son become so deeply
involved in what was clearly a murder investigation. She would have preferred
if it had been left in the hands of the police, but there was little she could
do.

When
her husband returned home that night, Cassy had to tell him of the new
information that Darcy and Mr. Carr had uncovered and explain that they had
gone together to Hertfordshire to locate Mr. Frank Wickham.

Richard
was surprised; not having been privy to the enquiries that Mr. Carr and Darcy
were making, he had little knowledge of the developments in the case. Whilst he
had some concerns about the disappearance of Margaret Baines, once it had been
established that the girl was alive, though still missing, Richard had not
taken any active interest in the matter, content to wait for the authorities or
the girl's family to find her.

He
listened carefully to what Cassy told him and asked, "And do you think, my
dear, that this Frank Wickham or Wakeham, if he does turn out to be your Aunt
Lydia's youngest son, will return and give his evidence to the police?"

Cassy
had no answer. She knew very little of the Wickham family, save what her
parents, principally her mother, had told her over the years.

"I
cannot say, Richard, the family are not generally known for being upright and
public spirited, but in this case, it does seem that Mr. Wickham was concerned
that Josh Higgins was under suspicion," she said.

"So
concerned that he told the landlord at the inn, and no one else, before leaving
the district," said her husband, somewhat sceptical. Richard had no
knowledge at all of that branch of the family, except for the reports he had
had of the Wickhams from his parents, from Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, and Julian, all
of which had been uniformly bad.

No
one, it appeared, had a good word for them, though he wondered about Frank
having changed his name, to avoid recognition while staying in the area.

Perhaps,
he was ashamed of the reputation of his father and brothers and wished to put
some distance between himself and his family.

He
knew Cassy was keen for him to give her some encouragement and was reluctant to
dash her hopes.

"It
is possible that he is different from the rest of them. He may well be more
thoughtful and less inconsiderate of others. But if that is the case, why did
he pack up and leave? It does not sound like the act of a responsible man with
a clear conscience, does it, my dear?"

Cassy
could have wept. Frank Wickham was their last chance; if only, she thought, if
only she had been on better terms with her Aunt Lydia. Then, she might have
gone to Meryton with Darcy and tried to persuade Frank to return and tell his
story. As it happened, she could only wait anxiously for news, some news, from
her son and Mr. Carr. And that may be days away.

*

Very
early on the following morning, however, they had another surprise.

Lizzie
crept quietly into her parents' room and, seeing her mother lying awake in bed,
signalled to her to come out into the corridor.

Cassy
eased herself out of bed without waking her husband, snatched up a shawl, and
draping it around her shoulders, followed her daughter to her own bedroom.
There, she found Lucy, her maid, and another young person, a girl not more than
fourteen years old, sitting on the rug before the fire. She seemed nervous but
not at all fearful.

"Mama,
this is Annie, she has brought a note from Lucy's aunt, Mrs. Thomas, who lives
across the river, beyond Kympton, on the edge of the moors," said Lizzie.
The girl handed Cassy a note, which had been sent to Lucy that morning.

The
note, though written in an untutored hand, was quite clear and Cassy read it
quickly, looking for the vital information she sought. Mrs. Thomas wrote that
Margaret Baines was with her; she had come to them two days ago, having hidden
overnight in the woods. This note brought a message from her. She intended to
leave the district very soon. If however, Miss Lizzie would meet her, she
promised to tell her truthfully all that had happened. She begged them to
believe that she had not murdered anyone and asked to be forgiven for her
foolishness, by which Cassy took her to mean the clandestine affair with Mr.
Jones.

Looking
up, with tears stinging her eyes, she said, "Oh poor, foolish Margaret,
what a waste of a bright, young life," as she passed the note to her
daughter. Lizzie was determined to go.

"May
I go to her, Mama? Lucy can accompany me," she said eagerly, but Cassy was
unsure; she did not want to let Lizzie go on her own. What if this was a trick
to lure her daughter? An army of fears, real and imagined, assailed her and she
decided there was no alternative, she would have to go herself.

Urging
Lizzie to stay in her room with the two girls, but prepare to leave at a moment's
notice, she returned to her room. Her husband was still fast asleep.

Leaving
a note for him, which gave only the merest hint of the reason for their
departure, Cassy dressed quickly and, collecting Lizzie and the girls, went
downstairs; there, only a few of the servants were awake, preparing for the
morning's work. Tea was made and they all partook of some, while Cassy sent for
the small carriage, preferring it because it was closed and protected them not
only from the cool morning air but from inquisitive eyes as well. Once they
were across the river, Annie would show them the way.

Cassy's
account of their journey and the meeting with Margaret Baines made exciting
reading for her cousin Emma Wilson, when it was transcribed in a letter,
written some days later; but no one would ever know the anxiety and
apprehension that had accompanied her on her journey that morning. There were
few people about and for that they were grateful. The road through the woods
was far from easy and when they crossed the river, Cassy, who had never been in
this area before, feared they were lost. Annie, however, was able, quite
confidently, to instruct the driver and soon they were at the crossroads.

Turning
towards the village of Rockford, which was little more than a handful of
cottages, a forge, and a dairy lying in a scoop of land above the ancient ford,
which had been augmented by a stone bridge a mere century ago, they had to
stop, for what had been little more than a rutted dirt road now petered out
into a footpath. Instructing the driver to wait, Cassy, with Lizzie and the two
girls, alighted and walked up the path towards a cottage, half hidden by the
trees that surrounded it. Annie led the way and they entered into a small,
clean room, where they were met by a middle-aged woman, who, by her neat
clothes and courteous manner, gave an appearance of polite respectability even
in the face of hardship.

Her
husband, Cassy had learned, was a labourer and had already left for work. He
would not be back until dusk. The woman, Mrs. Thomas, invited Mrs. Gardiner and
her daughter to be seated and went to fetch Margaret Baines.

Cassy
was to write later:

Oh,
Emma, if only you could have seen her. I could scarcely believe she was the
same bright girl who had been in our home just a few days ago. Her face was
drawn and thin and there was in her expression such a look of fear, almost of
furtiveness, that one was immediately reminded of the young woman in a novel,
on the run from the peelers. It was horrible. Poor Margaret, it was more than I
could do to hold back my tears and Lizzie went to her at once and embraced her!

Margaret
Baines had been persuaded by Mrs. Thomas, who had taken pity on the girl, to
tell her story to Mrs. Gardiner.

It
was not an easy tale to tell, nor was it painless for the listeners. She
started and stopped often, until she was encouraged by Lizzie, who assured her
that they wanted only to help her, and reassured by Cassandra, who said she
firmly believed Margaret could not have been responsible for Jones's death. The
final measure of persuasion came, however, when she heard that it was Josh
Higgins who was now under suspicion and had been arrested for the crime.

"It
was never Josh! No!" she cried, and there followed a recitation of the
entire incident, her words flooding out in a rush.

Margaret
confessed that she had been seeing Mr. Jones, "not walking out with him,
ma'am, but just walking home sometimes, when he would appear on the road that I
took on my way home, or when I went into the village to get something for my
mother. He would appear and walk with me to the end of the road, where it came
out of the woods and then turn back, waiting to see me into the village."

Cassy
wrote to Emma:

Quite
clearly he had taken a fancy to the girl; he had been asking about her at the
inn, noting her head of auburn hair, and, like the deceiver he was, started to
accost her while pretending he was meeting her by chance, when he had clearly
been waiting for her.

Margaret
confessed she had liked him at first, and perhaps she had "flirted a
little" with him, but protested that she meant no harm...and did not wish
their association to go any further. She swore that she had no illusions that
he wanted to marry her. "I knew he was a gentleman from a rich family. He told
me his family owned a print shop in London and another in Derby; I was not
expecting him to propose to me or anything. I knew he would not be interested
in a girl like me..." she said, and Mrs. Thomas butted in, "He'd be
interested all right, in one thing only, of that you can be sure, and once he
had that, you can be sure he'd be off."

But
Margaret swore that no such thing had happened or even been attempted, even
though he had brought her a gift once. She showed them what looked like a
little locket on a chain. It was a tawdry trinket of little value--the sort of
thing one could pick up in a gift shop in Derby.

She
claimed, one day, a little more than a week ago, he had kissed her unexpectedly
and she, confused and afraid, had run away from him.

"It
was then I saw him, John Archer; he had been in the woods, I thought it was by
chance, but it later came out he had been following us and he went after Mr.
Jones seeing what he'd done and had words with him," she said.

Cassy
was astonished. "How well do you know Mr. Archer, Margaret?" she
asked at once.

"Quite
well, when I was little, ma'am, but not since he's been away in London and come
back. I haven't met him, hardly at all, but I have heard he has spoken of me to
others. One of my cousins is a stable boy at Pemberley; he has heard talk among
the men that John Archer was speaking of me, wanting to meet me, and
such," the girl replied.

Cassy
wondered what more was yet to be revealed. It would not surprise her if Archer
had had designs on Margaret himself and was following the pair, through
frustration and jealousy. She recalled that Mr. Grantham had been very set
against him being considered for the position at Pemberley, where, as an
assistant to the manager of the estate, he would have had both access and
influence. Could Grantham have known something of Archer's interest in Margaret
and been unwilling to disclose it at the time? she wondered.

Cassy
asked Margaret if Archer had ever propositioned her.

"Did
her ever say anything to you? Apart from ordinary conversation, did he ask you
to walk out with him or suggest he wished to marry you?"

Margaret
blushed and appeared reluctant to answer, but said after a minute or two,
"Not directly, ma'am, but he had asked about me, whether I was spoken for,
but he never said such a thing to me."

It
was beginning to look more and more like John Archer, rather than poor simple
Josh Higgins, was the man the police should have been looking for.

But
how was such a proposition to be proved?

Writing
to Emma Wilson, Cassy explained how difficult the task had seemed.

Margaret
Baines claimed that on the day after she had seen John Archer in the
woods--that is, the day after Jones had kissed her and she had runaway--she saw
Andrew Jones again and, when she did, she told him that she would not accept
his approaches to her.

"I
told him I want no more of it, ma'am, no more of the kissing and cuddling and
such, and I warned him we had been followed by John Archer, and I was scared of
him talking in the village. I said my mother
would hear of it and I'd be in trouble and then most
likely lose my job with you, ma'am," she said, and my dear Emma, you may
call me naive, but I do believe her.