Mr. Darcy's Daughter (46 page)

While
a little unsettled by their very public display of affection, Cassy, herself a
woman with strong feelings and a passionate nature, understood how they might
feel and was disinclined to attach blame to either.

She
could not, however, avoid a sharp stab of guilt that she had neither detected
nor sought to assuage her daughter's feelings, which were now so obvious to her
and to anyone else who cared to observe them. She had not thought to ask and
Lizzie had clearly suffered alone. Cassy blamed herself, as she saw her tears
and then the mutual delight that suffused their faces as they were reunited,
clearly reluctant to break apart.

When
Mr. Carr helped Lizzie back into the carriage, keeping hold of her hand, as he
stood beside the vehicle, he explained that there had been a problem with
horses at Derby. "I took the coach and travelled ahead, lest you should
worry at the delay, Mrs. Gardiner," he explained, "leaving Darcy and
Wickham to follow. They will not be more than half a day's journey behind
me."

Yet
Cassy knew and she was sure Lizzie would know, too, that he had probably
travelled ahead because he could no longer endure the separation. She could not
fail to appreciate their delight in their chance reunion. It prompted a change
of plan. Inviting Mr. Carr to join them in the carriage, Cassy said, "We
were going to Oakleigh Manor to visit Mrs. Gardiner. I expect to spend the day
with her, but if you choose, Lizzie and you may return to Matlock and send the
carriage for me later."

The
pleasure on both their faces was assurance enough that she had done the right
thing.

If
further proof was needed, it came with the warmth of her daughter's embrace as
they parted at Oakleigh and her whispered, "Thank you, Mama." It was
not only an act of understanding and love, but also an index to Cassy's trust
in her daughter and Mr. Carr. To Lizzie, it confirmed that hers was the best
mother in the world. She would do nothing to outrage or breach her trust. For Mr.
Carr, however, Lizzie had another plan in mind.

The
confidence she had gained from his warm and spontaneous greeting, and the
subsequent pleasure she had from his compliments upon her appearance, allowed
her some measure of liberality. She now used it to discover whether the man she
loved could be contrite as well as loving.

With
a degree of playfulness that disarmed him completely, she demanded to know why
she had received no communication from him while he was away in Hertfordshire.

At
first, somewhat disconcerted by the unexpected question, Mr. Carr attempted to
provide her with a reason, but found his path blocked, as Lizzie insisted, with
a smile that belied her intention, that she could not see why, if her brother
could write to her mother, he could not have done likewise and penned a note to
her. As he struggled in vain for an acceptable answer, she wondered aloud.
"Could it be," she mused, in a quiet but clearly reproving voice,
"that his silence indicates that, having secured my affection and consent,
he no longer thinks it necessary to accord me those gentle courtesies that were
so much a part of our early acquaintance?"

At
this quite outrageous suggestion, Mr. Carr had to protest most strongly and, in
words of increasing degrees of tenderness, he not only proclaimed his love for
her, but told her how wretched he had been without her, how often he had told
her brother so and wished he was back in Derbyshire with her.

When
she asked, "But why then, did you not write to me?" he replied in
anguished tones, "Because, my dearest Lizzie, I have not the talent to put
down on paper all I feel for you and I was afraid if I had written of mere
mundane matters that you would think my words inadequate."

"And
you supposed I would prefer your silence?" she asked, determined to press
him for an answer.

"I
would. Rather silence than some well-worn string of phrases, signifying
nothing. Had I loved you less, Lizzie, my darling, it would have been easier to
write something sentimental and probably meaningless; but you are too dear to
me to play at friends and lovers with you. I love you dearly, believe me, and I
am truly sorry if I have hurt you by my failure to write. It was not in any way
a reflection of my feelings, which have been uniformly wretched at being
separated from you."

He
looked and sounded so genuinely distressed, she had no doubt at all of his sincerity
and she had to stop him and confess that she was teasing, adding cunningly,
"It is, however, good to know that a gentleman is as capable of feeling
remorse as he is of love."

As
usual in such matters, the most pleasure lies in mutual appeasement, following
each misunderstanding, and so it was with them.

By
the time they had reached Matlock, both Lizzie and Mr. Carr were convinced,
beyond doubt, of each other's deep and abiding affection and had determined
that it was quite impossible to tell which of them loved the other more. A
happy condition, they agreed, which augured well for their future together.

*

That
evening, Mr. Carr joined the Gardiners for dinner. Dr Gardiner was given an
account of the results of their journey to Hertfordshire.

Though
they were all disappointed that Darcy and Frank Wickham had been delayed at
Derby, Mr. Carr was nevertheless very confident that the information they had
obtained from Mr. Wickham would greatly assist Josh Higgins.

"I
expect he will be exonerated of the charge of murder and be released before the
inquest, sir," he told Richard, with some confidence.

Dr
Gardiner asked several pertinent questions, relating to the reliability of
Wickham's statement, his willingness to testify, and even more importantly, his
sincerity in agreeing to come forward.

"Are
you quite certain he is genuine in his desire to help, or does he hope for some
material gain by obliging you?" he asked, adding quickly, "Pray do
not misunderstand me, Mr. Carr, I ask only because the Wickhams do have an
unenviable record of such behaviour and I would not want you to be taken
in."

Mr.
Carr assured him that they had questioned Frank Wickham very thor-oughly and
were confident that his story was true in every particular.

"He
is absolutely solid on the matter of meeting Josh on the other side of the
river, while fishing that evening, and giving him some money. Darcy and I
impressed upon him the need for truthfulness, not only in the interest of Josh
Higgins, but in his own interest as well."

"Indeed,"
said Richard, "perjury is a serious offence. However, if you are both well
satisfied, I daresay, it will all turn out well. Congratulations, Darcy and you
have accomplished far more than I ever expected."

Lizzie,
listening quietly to their conversation, was delighted with her father's
approval for the man she loved.

After
spending a while longer with Lizzie, Mr. Carr left and Lizzie, looking much
happier, went to her room.

Soon
afterwards, the Gardiners went upstairs and, as they prepared for bed, Cassy
told her husband of the encounter between Lizzie and Mr. Carr on the road to
Lambton. She confessed she had been astonished by the high degree of feeling in
Lizzie's impetuous greeting.

"I
blame myself," she confessed. "I should have realised she was lonely
and missed him. I have been too busy, too concerned with other people's
business to think of my own child. Poor little Lizzie."

Richard,
who had observed how much more cheerful young Lizzie had been that evening and
attributed it correctly to the return of the gentleman concerned, smiled and
put a reassuring arm around his wife. He was well aware of the burden she had
carried these past months.

"I
have certainly not forgotten and I hope you have not either, my love, how one
feels at such a time," he said, "I recall that we were parted for a
much longer period, shortly after we were engaged, when Paul Antoine was dying
and you stayed behind in Italy with your parents to support Emily, while I had
to return to work at the hospital in Derby. I know how they must feel and I do
think it is wise that their wedding is not delayed much longer than the end of
Autumn.

Do
you not agree?"

Cassy
did agree but was not easily reassured that she had no blame to bear in the
matter. Frequently, as she hurried through the day, attending to work on her
father's estate, she had stopped to consider practical domestic matters, but
not once had she thought that Lizzie may have needed comfort. It was a serious
omission and Cassy was filled with self-reproach.

*

In
the very early hours of the morning, Darcy Gardiner and his companion, Frank
Wickham, arrived in a state close to exhaustion. They were allowed to sleep
late and breakfast well before Mr. Carr, with an attorney-at-law in attendance,
arrived to advise Mr. Wickham and accompany him to the offices of the
constabulary. There, they assumed the tedious processes of the law would begin.

Secure
in the knowledge that the small but significant matter of his debt owed to Mr.
Brewer had already been paid, Frank Wickham was less uneasy and more ready to
do his duty. Mr. Carr and Darcy Gardiner made statements, attesting to the
willingness of Mr. Wickham to testify, and then Mr. Wickham and the attorney
went in. Some hours later, they emerged to inform those waiting that Mr.
Wickham's statement corroborated the story told by Josh Higgins in every detail
and Higgins would be released into his parent's care, under orders not to leave
the district until after the coroner's inquest.

Unhappily,
that was not the end of the matter.

The
police, having released their only suspect, now had no plausible evidence to
present to the coroner, regarding the death of Mr. Jones.

They
had a dead body and little else. With only the girl, Margaret Baines, who was
not a suspect at this stage, left to give evidence; there was some heightened
suspense as to what would happen next. Would someone else be arrested?

Each
morning brought more rumour and speculation and very little illumination or
fact. If no one was responsible, what was to be the verdict? Not accidental
death, surely? Clearly the man had either been pushed or had fallen in the
course of a scuffle to the floor of the quarry, where his body had been smashed
upon the rocks. His terrible injuries suggested it. But who was to blame? Some
accused the girl, while others spoke of a mysterious stranger, seen in the
woods, who had accosted and killed Jones. Speculation was rife. In the streets,
at the inn, even it seemed, in the courthouse, there was talk. No one could agree.

Back
at Matlock around the table that night, where Mr. Carr and Mr. Wickham had been
invited to join the family at dinner, the conversation was, quite deliberately,
of matters other than the death of Andrew Jones.

Richard
and Cassy were eager for news about Jonathan and Anna Bingley, and Darcy was
keen to tell of his conversations with Mr. Colin Elliott, who was highly
esteemed as a courageous Reformist, while Lizzie and Mr. Carr were persuaded to
provide the company with some gentle entertainment at the pianoforte. After
weeks of anxiety and strain, the family enjoyed the simple pleasures the
evening afforded them. The relief after days of uncertainty was palpable.

Watching
them from the corner of the room, where he had sat seemingly lost in thought
since dinner, Frank Wickham may well have been wishing for a similar life in a
quiet domestic environment. It was the sort of normal, happy family life of
which he had very little experience.

Suddenly,
there was a loud knocking at the door.Thinking it had to be a medical
emergency, for no one else would call at such an hour, Dr Gardiner rose, as the
door of the drawing room opened to admit two officers of the local
constabulary.

There
was immediate silence, so quiet as if everyone had stopped breathing.

Each
person in the room had their own private explanation for this intrusion and
none of them could have anticipated the news they brought. A man, a certain
John Archer, said the senior officer, had given himself up. He had confessed to
the accidental killing of Mr. Andrew Jones.

There
was general consternation around the room.

"Who,"
asked Darcy, "is John Archer and how is he involved in this?"

Dr
Gardiner explained briefly and then asked the police officers, "Has he
given you details of how this 'accidental killing' occurred?"

"He
has, Dr Gardiner, but they cannot be revealed until they are either
corroborated or contradicted by a witness."

"Corroborated
by a witness? Does Archer say there was a witness to this accident?"
Richard asked, somewhat bewildered by this statement.

"Not
to the whole of it, sir, but there was another person involved, at least for
some of the time, Archer says, who can confirm that he was there when the
incident took place."

"And
might one ask, who this person is? Not any one of us, I do not think?"

Richard
was increasingly concerned by the direction of this conversation.

"No
sir, none of the persons in this room is in any way implicated," said the
officer, looking round at the gathered company, "but, we are here, because
we must have a statement from the witness. We know
she
is here, not in this room but perhaps in
your staff quarters. The person concerned is Margaret Baines."