The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy (43 page)

“In three days time?” Elizabeth did not hide her surprise well.

“Of course, that is if you and Mr. Darcy hold no objection,” Mrs. Ridgeway said with some satisfaction. “After all, Saturday next is the first of the month: your deadline for my removal.”

Her temper spiked, but Elizabeth quickly masked her thoughts. She straightened her shoulders. She stood tall, but she still felt dwarfed by the housekeeper's majestic presence. “We should be honest, Mrs. Ridgeway. Our relationship began cordially enough, but we hold different opinions on a servant's position within a household. Perhaps the difference comes from the years you spent in America. I understand those in the former colonies have less stringent class structures.”

“Perhaps,” the woman murmured enigmatically.

Elizabeth continued in her best Mistress of Pemberley voice. “Whatever the cause, our time together has proven ill. It is best if we part ways with as little ceremony as possible. When Mr. Darcy and I quit Woodvine, you shall wish to continue a relationship with those with whom you have served. You may make your proper farewells, but I would caution you to show diplomacy in your leaving. My husband is not normally a vengeful man, but never doubt that he is a man of great influence.”

“And Mr. Darcy would turn that influence against a woman attempting to make an honest living?” The housekeeper and Elizabeth exchanged assessing glances.

All of her emotions condensed into this moment. They were done with useless words. Elizabeth managed to ignore the woman's tartness. “Mr. Darcy would do whatever is necessary to maintain the respect accorded his family name.”

“I found it, Mrs. Darcy,” Hannah called as she bounded into the room. Elizabeth's maid came to a stumbling halt when she saw the housekeeper. Hannah said cautiously, “I pray I did not keep you waiting, Ma'am.”

Elizabeth gave her maid a thankful smile. “Mrs. Ridgeway brought me a pot of fresh tea. She was just leaving.”

“I see, Ma'am.” Hannah moved between Elizabeth and the housekeeper. “I think it best, Ma'am, if you return to your bed. I promised Mr. Darcy that I would not permit you to overextend yourself.”

Elizabeth smiled tenderly at her maid. In the short time they had been together, Hannah had learned the art of deflection well. “I would not have my husband cross with you.” Elizabeth accepted Hannah's arm about her waist. They moved across the room as one—as if Elizabeth were an invalid.

Hannah glanced to where Mrs. Ridgeway stood watching the interplay. “If there is nothing more, Mrs. Ridgeway, please close the door upon your exit. I shall return the tea tray to the kitchen.”

The housekeeper hesitated, but the woman finally bestowed a curt nod upon Hannah and a brief curtsy in Elizabeth's direction. “With your permission, I shall send Mr. Stowbridge a note regarding my arrival.”

Elizabeth said without rancor, “Go with God, Mrs. Ridgeway.”

“God has never seen fit to guide my steps previously, Mrs. Darcy. He has left me to find my way alone.”

Elizabeth scowled. “I have found that those who doubt God in their lives often ignore God's direction, especially if His wishes are contrary to theirs.”

A deep red color came immediately to the woman's cheeks. The housekeeper said brusquely, “Again, we shall agree to remain in disagreement, Mrs. Darcy.”

When the door closed behind the lady, Elizabeth and Hannah caught each other up in a companionable embrace. “I do not trust that woman,” Hannah declared.

The ruse of additional bed rest over, Elizabeth sat at the desk again. “On many levels, Mrs. Ridgeway destroys my best efforts to remain congenial; yet, in reality, the lady has done nothing more than to show poor judgment. She has overstepped her authority, but does that make her evil or just an opportunist?”

Hannah picked up the fresh teapot. “Say what you wish, Mrs. Darcy, but I shall be glad when we leave this place.” Hannah marched purposely toward the open window.

“Hannah?” Elizabeth asked with a burst of laughter that instantly irritated her throat. A coughing fit followed before she managed to ask, “What are you about?”

Hannah turned from the window from which she poured the tea to the ground below. “You will not be drinking any tea prepared by that woman's hands, Mrs. Darcy. Not as long as I am alive.”

With no new upheavals, Darcy spent the remainder of the day with the archaeologists and the evening with cards and port and the company of the colonel and Tregonwell's men. Mr. Franklyn had praised the caliber of Samuel's finds and the care with which Darcy's cousin had treated the most delicate discoveries. “We expect it will require another fortnight to catalog everything in your cousin's collection, Mr. Darcy.”

Darcy thought it very unlikely he would be at Woodvine as long as another fortnight, but he did not share that information with Franklyn. He would secure the services of Mr. Cowan, or Darcy would send word to Rardin for the earl's man to oversee the collection until its removal to the Society's headquarters. “I am certain Cousin Samuel's excellent eye for detail held no bounds. What little I have seen of the displays was quite impressive.”

“Indeed they are,” Sedgelock said with admiration.

Darcy said in his own inimitable style, “Do not hesitate to call on me if you require my assistance.” He returned the Egyptian bracelet to a display cloth. “I have other pressing responsibilities, but do not doubt that I review the detailed list of Cousin Samuel's treasures that you provide me each evening.” Because the Society men held an advantage due to their knowledge of the items displayed in his cousin's “hidden” room, Darcy assured the Society men that he took an active interest in their studies. “Your diligence in your duties is admirable,” he added as a balm to the men's egos.

In the evening, after he had assured himself Elizabeth had not overextended her energies or her voice on her first day from her bed, Darcy had remained below stairs, enjoying his cousin's company. “I understand you heard from Cowan,” he said as he smoked a cheroot after the meal.

The colonel blew a twisting puff of smoke through his tight lips. The ends of the smoke curled in on themselves. “Arrived about three.” Edward inhaled again and attempted a different design in the smoke. “The Runner has asked me to join him in Manchester. Cowan says it is important.”

Darcy's countenance hardened. He did not approve of the idea of Edward's withdrawal, even for a few days. As the death toll had risen, Darcy had come to depend heavily on his cousin's reason. “Do you know any of the details of Cowan's task?”

Edward shook his head. “I have no guess as to Cowan's intentions, but what I do know is he requires my influence as a colonel in the King's service, and likely as Matlock's son. Trust me. Cowan is never one to seek another man's assistance unless he holds no other alternative.”

“When will you depart?” Darcy conceded the inevitable.

“I thought shortly after services tomorrow. It is not ideal to travel on the Sabbath, but if I avoid the turnpike roads, I could be in Manchester by late Monday,” Edward reasoned.

Darcy calculated. “Then you could return to Dorset by Thursday next.”

“You do not intend for me to know any rest from the saddle, Cousin.” Edward chuckled good-naturedly.

The colonel's jest had caused some smarting of Darcy's principles, but he placed his qualms aside. “You prefer to be of use,” Darcy countered. “And you are well aware of my dependence on your logical mind and your most excellent company.”

“Of course, I will speed my return, and if I am to be delayed, I will send word.”

“Mr. Williamson appears quite pale,” Elizabeth observed as Darcy had escorted her to his cousin Samuel's family pew.

He spoke for her ears only. “The curate has such a strict sense of propriety, so much of that true delicacy of spirit, which one seldom meets with nowadays, and, unfortunately, we have given the man more work than is normally within his realm of duties.”

Elizabeth looked up at him lovingly. “
We
have done no such thing. The deaths we have uncovered took place long before we arrived in Dorsetshire. If the citizens of this village had kept their houses in order, we would have come and gone by now.”

Darcy smiled easily. “I am addicted to your loyalty, my love.”

Edward joined them. “The word has spread of the additional gravesites in the church's cemetery,” he said quietly.

Darcy nodded to Elizabeth. “Mrs. Darcy refuses any blame on our part,” he teased with a bit of left over admiration.

The colonel leaned closer. “Your wife's opinion, Cousin, is the only one which truly matters.” A short parley of compliments ensued.

Darcy seated Elizabeth between them. “Do not forget to survey the congregation,” Darcy whispered.

“Whatever for?” Elizabeth looked at him inquiringly.

Edward was all honey. “Do not fret yourself, Mrs. Darcy. My cousin only has eyes for his wife.” Elizabeth rapped Edward's arm with her fan, while Darcy enjoyed the flush on his wife's cheeks. It had driven away the pasty color across Elizabeth's cheekbones.

“It is true,” Darcy readily admitted.

His cousin ignored Darcy's profession of affection for his wife. Instead, Edward explained, “We are looking for a woman.”

Elizabeth's eyebrow rose in anticipation. “For you, Colonel?” she asked playfully.

Edward's smile widened. “If only, Mrs. Darcy,” he feigned solemnity. In reality, Darcy saw the familiar agreeableness return to his cousin's countenance as he looked upon Elizabeth. As usual, Darcy found a twinge of jealousy resting upon his shoulders. Edward continued as he glanced about those already seated, “We search for any woman who resembles the description Mr. Williamson provided us.”

“One woman?” Elizabeth asked curiously.

Edward said, “We had wished for one, but it appears there are multiple ladies of interest in the community.”

Elizabeth caught Darcy's eye. “You, Mr. Darcy, have my permission to look upon other women, but only just this once, Sir. Mind you that my confidence would be destroyed if you took too much pleasure in the process.”

A crack of laughter escaped Darcy's lips before he could stifle the sound. “You are incomparable, Mrs. Darcy.” He brought the back of her gloved hand to his lips.

After the service, Mr. Williamson motioned Darcy away from the others in the congregation. “I thought you should know, Sir, one of the local families has claimed a victim from Mr. Holbrook's wooded find.”

“How so?” Darcy asked discreetly. He held his breath as he waited for the clergyman to deliver his latest revelation.

Williamson's eyes scanned the milling churchgoers. “I sent word to the Clarkson family. Old Mr. Clarkson has spent many hours and more money than the family can afford in a search for his eldest son Robert.”

Darcy watched Edward lead Elizabeth toward the waiting carriage. “What happened to Robert Clarkson?” he asked privately.

“Young Clarkson had been hiring himself out for day work on the adjoining farms. One day, he departed his family home with word that he had found a multiple-day position. He reportedly planned to be gone a week. When Robert did not return after a sennight, Aron Clarkson set out to visit all the local farms and estates, seeking word of his eldest child's fate.” An expression of satisfaction settled on the curate's countenance.

“How long ago did Robert Clarkson go missing?”