The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy (24 page)

“The Earl speaks well of your service,” Sedgelock continued. “Matlock is quite proud of your accomplishments, Sir.”

Darcy noted a slight blush and a definite frown upon his cousin's countenance. It was as if Edward had never heard another speak of Matlock's admiration. Darcy cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should resume our seats and become acquainted.”

Edward reached for the bell cord. “I will order tea.”

Darcy seated Elizabeth on a nearby settee. “First, permit me to introduce to you the others traveling with Mr. Sedgelock and Mr. Chetley, my dear. Mrs. Darcy, this is Mr. Poore, Mr. Maxton, and Mr. McKye.” Each man bowed in turn. “I have left word for Mr. Cowan to join us when he returns to the house.”

When everyone was settled, Mr. Sedgelock said, “Mr. Franklyn has performed admirably in organizing the late Mr. Darcy's acquisitions; yet, we are most impatient to examine the items hidden within.”

Darcy said authoritatively, “Normally, I would embrace your enthusiasm for Samuel's finds. My cousin's legacy will bring honor to the Darcy name, and it would please Samuel to know so. However, I am at Woodvine for one purpose: to recover Samuel Darcy's body for a proper burial and to identify those who have executed his degradation.”

Chetley stammered, “Of...of course, Mr. Darcy. We did not mean to imply that Samuel Darcy's acquisitions took precedence over justice.”

Darcy continued, “Once you begin your assessment of Samuel's finds, my family and I will leave you to your examinations, but I demand a daily accounting of your activities. I deem it my duty to assure that Cousin Samuel's collection is treated with the reverence it deserves. Either the colonel or I will oversee the work. I am certain Matlock would wish his son to assume the role. After all, Lady Anne Fitzwilliam married George Darcy. Samuel's legacy reflects upon Matlock's family name.” Darcy noted the twitch of Edward's lips. Despite his cousin's and his uncle's continuing battle of wills, Darcy and Edward occasionally invoked the earl's name as a negotiating tool. It was a common practice among the aristocracy. “The bulk of Samuel's estate has been left to his niece, the Countess of Rardin.” Adding another earl to the scenario certainly would not hurt the chances of the Society's agreement.

Mr. Franklyn cleared his throat. Obviously, Sedgelock was the senior Society member, but it was Franklyn who quickly comprehended Darcy's implications. The Society would answer to the Darcy family in this manner or know disappointment. “We agree to your stipulations, Mr. Darcy.”

“Excellent.” He extended his hand for the ledger resting on Sedgelock's lap. Reluctantly, the man handed it to Darcy, who passed it to Edward. “My cousin will make a copy of the list and then return the book to you.” He smiled amiably at the group. “Are there items on the list of which we should be made aware? Any of great worth or rarity?” he asked casually.

“Many are invaluable examples of ancient civilizations,” Chetley explained. “A monetary estimation cannot be placed on history.”

From beside him, Elizabeth asked softly, “What of the Lemegeton?”

Edward asked suspiciously, “The Lesser Key of Solomon? What does a grimoire have to do with Samuel Darcy?”

Elizabeth said with confidence, “The late Mr. Darcy mentions the Lemegeton in one of his journals. Samuel Darcy thought he had discovered one of the original texts.”

As if his wife had consulted him regarding the new information, Darcy asked the Antiquarians, “What is the historical context of the manuscript?”

Chetley explained, “There are references to the text in the seventeenth century. Some claim King Solomon authored the Lesser, but experts disagree on this matter. The text contains Johann Weyer's sixteenth century
Pseudomonarchia Daemonum
, as well as material from the fourteenth century.”

“The titles of nobility assigned to the demons are of a more modern language,” Sedgelock added. “Needless to say, Solomon lived long before any of these events.”

Darcy asked, “Is it possible that my cousin could have uncovered a copy of this document during his travels?”

“Easily so,” Chetley assured.

Elizabeth's voice cut through the archaeologist's confidence. “I suspect the late Mr. Darcy did not discover the grimoire in foreign lands.”

Edward insisted, “Please clarify, Mrs. Darcy.”

Elizabeth glanced at her husband for his agreement. He nodded almost imperceptibly, and she continued, “The late Mr. Darcy wrote daily in his journal. In a series of entries, my husband's Cousin Samuel described coming upon the book quite unexpectedly in the lower garden under a column bedside the sundial. Samuel Darcy thought it had been placed there in haste. He hid it in his secret room. I suspect it is among the items my husband and I found below. Cousin Samuel also mentions a stang and an arthame.”

In serious contemplation, Darcy cocked his head to one side. “You are saying that Samuel thought witches practiced their arts under his roof?”

Elizabeth shook her head in denial. “Samuel Darcy does not make such an assertion; yet, I do believe he thought some of his employees delved in evil spells and magic potions. We have seen evidence of this with the witch's bottle, my husband.”

Edward said adamantly, “I find the prospects of such rumors ridiculous.”

Elizabeth countered, “Ridiculous or not, there are many, especially in the country shires, who strongly follow their superstitions. I assume from the late Mr. Darcy's words that he was of the colonel's persuasion, but Samuel Darcy understood how the dark arts motivated others.”

Ironically, the elderly maid who had been present when the witch's bottle was found entered with the teacart and set it before Elizabeth. “Shall I serve, Missus?” she asked softly.

Elizabeth whispered, “I shall serve the gentlemen if you will bring in a second pot.”

“There be one waiting in the hall, Mrs. Darcy. I will fetch it immediately, Ma'am.”

Sedgelock asked, “When should we commence with our cataloging?”

Darcy said, “After tea, we can be about our business.” He reached for the cup, which Elizabeth extended in his direction to hand off to Sedgelock. As he accepted the second cup his wife had prepared to serve Chetley, Darcy asked, “What is the Latin name for the Lemegeton?”

From behind him, a crash of china quieted the room. Darcy spun to see a white-faced maid in distress. “Mrs. Jacobs?” Elizabeth asked as she directed the woman's steps from the broken porcelain. “Are you safe?” Darcy rang the bell for additional assistance.

Mrs. Jacobs murmured, “I beg your pardon, Missus. I be...I be splashing the hot tea on me hand, and then I lose me grip.”

Elizabeth assured, “It is fine, Mrs. Jacobs. See Mrs. Holbrook regarding a bandage for your hand and send Els to attend me.”

“Yes, Ma'am.” The maid executed a half curtsy and disappeared into the hallway.

Elizabeth turned to face the room. “I apologize,” she offered. “The late Mr. Darcy's staff is adjusting to my preferences.”

However, before she could say more, Cowan burst through the door. “Mr. Darcy, you must come!”

Darcy turned to discover the Runner covered in dirt. “What is it, Cowan?”

The man sucked in a deep breath; whether in agitation or exasperation, Darcy could not say. “I have found another grave in the woods!”

Darcy asked the obvious, “Is it my cousin's body?”

“Unfortunately, no. The clothes are of a gentleman, but not so refined, and there is no apparent damage to the head. Dead perhaps a fortnight.”

Elizabeth's voice caught in her throat, but she managed to ask, “Mr. Crescent?”

“Very likely, Mrs. Darcy.”

“Elizabeth, I do not think it is wise for you to accompany us. Perhaps you should return to the house.” They rushed to keep pace with Cowan and the colonel.

“I am well,” she said as they crossed the rugged terrain leading to the tree line.

Darcy struggled to shorten his stride so he would not outpace her. “But...”

Elizabeth stopped suddenly, and Darcy had to circle his return to her side. Her hands fisted at her waist, and Darcy prepared himself for a tongue-lashing. “I shall not embarrass you, Fitzwilliam,” she asserted.

“I never thought you would,” he conceded. “It is just that...” Darcy hesitated.

Looking sad and lonely, she gazed up at him. “That I would what, Fitzwilliam? That I would crumble into a watering pot?”

Darcy's fingers caught hers. “I would not see you suffer in any manner,” he said for his wife's ears only. “I could not stand your countenance dressed up in woe and paleness.”

Her expression softened. “I am not so fragile, Mr. Darcy. And we both know that this is not about Mr. Cowan's find. It is simple: I am a woman who has lost her first child. However, I am not the only female who has known such sorrow. Yet, we may begin again. Together. Is that not what you wish? Or are we to dwell forever in the past?”

Darcy gave no indication of how much the question bothered him. Of course he desired the future Elizabeth described, but he would never abandon his desire to protect her. Not while he breathed life into his lungs. “I want the future. I want you and our children at Pemberley.”

“Then allow me to recover in my own way—to distract myself with the mystery and then to enjoy the holiday my husband has promised me.”

The colonel called from the hedgerow. “Come along, Darcy!”

He did not turn his head to acknowledge Edward's entreaty. Instead, Darcy tugged Elizabeth closer. He remained inclined to credit what she wished. “We should hurry, Mrs. Darcy.”

Elizabeth smiled brilliantly. “Yes, we should.” She double-stepped to maintain the pace Darcy set. He was so proud of her. Even if his wife raised her skirts and set off at a run, Darcy would not censure her. A woman of the
ton
would have demanded that he remove her from this madness. Would have thought him foolish to fret over clearing his cousin's name. But not
his
Elizabeth. His wife had embraced every facet of Darcy's life and had made it her own.

They joined Edward and Cowan beside a loosely disguised grave. “How in the world did you discover this site?” Darcy asked as he surveyed the area. They were deep in the woods where the sun rarely reached because of the thick foliage overhead. Brush and fallen leaves covered the ground.

Cowan said matter-of-factly, “I listen. To the servants. To those in the village shops. To those gathered after services. I listen for common phrases.”

“Are we certain Mr. Crescent rests below?” Elizabeth asked softly. His wife looked everywhere but at the unmarked gravesite. Upon the chance she might swoon, Darcy instinctively rested his hand on the small of her back.

Cowan's frown lines met. “Just a suspicion until we exhume the body.” He kicked at the loose dirt. “I dug down as far as I could on both sides to guarantee there is a body under all this forest debris.” Cowan gestured to the slightly raised mound. “I wanted everyone to view the site before we searched further.”

“I do not understand,” Darcy said as he nudged Elizabeth closer to his side.

Edward explained, “The rocks. It is the same pattern as those we found on Mr. Hotchkiss's grave. The V. A mark of the witch. A mark to represent a sacred place.”

Darcy ran his fingers through his hair. “That makes little sense. I have heard of those who mark a mantelpiece with ritualistic symbols, but never a grave. A house with its doors and chimneys and windows are considered vulnerable to evil spirits, and the marks are meant to ward off the spirit. Placing the mark above the grave would keep the evil within.”

Elizabeth asked, “Why a V?”

Franklyn explained, “For the Virgin Mary. Occasionally an M is used.”

Before anyone could respond, Sedgelock declared, “Mr. Darcy is correct. For the past twenty years, I have studied ancient civilizations and the use of the black arts. Never once have I encountered a report where a society marked the grave to seal the evil within.”

Cowan suggested, “Perhaps the mark is to keep the cursed without. To protect the dearly departed. The same as the marks of protection drive the witches from the house.”

Mr. Franklyn countered, “What of those uncivilized societies that mark gravesites and houses with crosses and iron horseshoes to ward off vampiric creatures?”