The Phantom of Pemberley (41 page)

“As much as I abhorred the man’s public swagger, a crime such as you described earlier, Sir Phillip, is a crime of passion and an act of opportunity. You know me, Spurlock. I am a man of reason—spent a decade in the English public courtrooms. I might go a round of fisticuffs with the lieutenant, but cutting a man’s throat and letting him bleed to death is simply not my style.”

Spurlock agreed, although he made no mention of the fact to Worth. Something about this investigation bothered him—something he needed to clarify. “Might we join the others, Worth? Mr. Darcy sent word that he has gathered everyone in the blue drawing room. I would welcome your insights into this case.”

 

The household gathered at Darcy’s request. He told them nothing until Spurlock joined them, and then he said very little about the
reason for their attendance. Sir Phillip would simply listen and observe, at least, initially.“I have asked Sir Phillip Spurlock as the local magistrate to join us,” Darcy announced at last. “Some of you met Sir Phillip earlier. As the weather has taken a positive turn, and we will soon be able to properly see to the deceased, we thought it best to address some facts before our parting—to find a resolution.” By silent agreement, no one mentioned Harwood directly. Several in the room still held no knowledge of the lieutenant’s death.

The baronet stepped forward.“Mr. Darcy, his wife, and his sister have spent an inordinate amount of time defining this past week’s events, but I have some questions I wish to address to individuals in this room. As I explained to Mr. Darcy, allowing each of you to hear what the others say may lead to new clues—new facts to solve this dilemma.”

No one responded directly, but a nervous buzz spread to every corner of the room. Before the baronet began his interrogation, Darcy took the opportunity to finish the introductions. “Pardon my interruption, Sir Phillip, but I should complete our welcomes.”

“Of course, Mr. Darcy.”

“For those of you unfamiliar with the gentleman on my left, it is with great pleasure that I present my cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. Edward, I believe you familiar with everyone except Miss Donnel, His Lordship’s cousin.” Darcy paused while Edward bowed over the lady’s hand. “Mrs. Williams.” Pause. “And Mrs. Darcy’s youngest sister.” So as to explain why his cousin might not already know Elizabeth’s sister, he quickly added,“I believe Mrs.Wickham was in Newcastle when Elizabeth and I wed.You would have had no opportunity for a prior acquaintance.”

“It is a pleasure, Mrs. Wickham.” Edward brought Lydia’s hand to his lips for the obligatory air kiss.

“Thank you, Colonel,” Lydia cooed.

When Edward turned his head, Darcy noted his cousin’s raised eyebrow. He did not know if it was because the colonel realized Lord Stafford possessed no “cousin” among those staying at Pemberley,
or whether Edward saw the buffoonery of acknowledging George Wickham’s wife. After all, Edward shared the guardianship of Darcy’s sister and was well aware of Wickham’s attempted elopement with and seduction of the girl. Darcy imagined Edward’s sensibilities to be shocked by the irony of both women being Pemberley’s guests.

When the colonel settled himself beside Georgiana on one of the settees, the baronet recovered the group’s attention. “I understand from the Darcys how you each came to be at Pemberley,” he began, “and the events of those first few days. What concerns me first is the fateful afternoon when Mrs. Jenkinson lost her life. I have examined the body and the cup from which the lady drank, and I agree with Mr. Darcy’s assumption of arsenic being the method.” Sir Phillip took a nearby seat and removed some folded paper and the stub of a pencil from his inside pocket, so that he might make himself some notes.“I understand, Mrs. Wickham,” he said, quickly turning to Lydia,“that you were the one to make arrangements for the hot cider and tea after the sledding adventure.”

Lydia flushed with the notice.“I came into the house and asked Mrs. Jennings to provide us refreshments,” she admitted.

“Did you touch the service, ma’am?” the magistrate continued.

Lydia started to respond, but then she paused with a frown. “If you mean, did I pour the drinks, the answer is no, Sir Phillip.” She saw the viscount’s head snap up in surprise. “It is true,Your Lordship,” she avowed. “I have thought long and hard on your accusations regarding my opportunities for poisoning the lady’s drink, but I was not the first person in this room that day.”

Adam Lawrence demanded, “Then who was, pray tell? It was you, Mrs. Wickham, who ordered the drinks’ preparation from Darcy’s staff, and you were partaking of the hot liquid when the rest of us entered the room.”

Lydia bristled with the renewal of his accusatory tone, but she did not retreat from his charges. “Mrs. Williams was sitting by the hearth when I arrived in the room,” Lydia asserted.

“That is impossible,” Worth remarked. “Mrs. Williams entered with the rest of us.”

“Yes, and entered the storeroom off the kitchen with the rest of us so that we could rid ourselves of our snow-soaked outerwear,” Stafford clarified.

Anne sat forward, feeling a twinge of discomfort with her thoughts. “Yet, Mrs. Williams was the first in and the first out that afternoon. Mrs. Darcy left at the same time, but she stopped to give orders to her staff to tend to our wet clothes. Miss Darcy, Mildred, and I sought a withdrawing room before we came in here that day.”

“You are correct, Miss de Bourgh,” Elizabeth confirmed. “Mrs. Williams and I did walk this way together, but I tarried to speak to Mr. Baldwin.”

“Then I am now accused,” Mrs. Williams charged, “of a deed most foul?”

“Blame is not this inquiry’s purpose, I assure you, ma’am; I simply wish to know the facts. For all I know, the late Mrs. Jenkinson may have willingly partaken of the arsenic as part of a beauty regime.”

The woman protested, “Well, I never!”

The baronet pressed the point. “Never what, madam? Never entered this room before the others? Never planned to hurt Mrs. Jenkinson? Never held knowledge of the potency of the powder? Never liked the lady?”

“How could anyone not like Mildred?” Anne disputed.

“The lady was of the first cut,”Worth added his evaluation.

“Never expected to face such censure,” Mrs. Williams snapped, not liking the implications.

Darcy glanced uneasily from Mrs. Williams to Sir Phillip. “Would you mind answering the baronet’s question, ma’am?”

The lady glowered at Darcy. “I thought I just did.”

“No, madam, you have not.” A shocked silence filled the room.

Mrs. Williams’s face looked thunderous. “I was the first one in the room,” she hissed.

“And when I accused Mrs. Wickham before of having the opportunity of performing a ‘deed most foul,’ as you so kindly put it, why did you not correct my misinformation?” Adam Lawrence charged. “Why did you not assume the truth then?”

“How was I to know whether Mrs. Wickham wanted to hurt Mrs. Jenkinson? She was the first to the house and the first to be around the refreshments that afternoon. Possibly the young lady might choose to place the culpability in my lap. Who might the Darcys believe? Their own sister or a complete stranger? I kept quiet to protect myself.Who could fault me for that?”

“And what do you know of arsenic?” Stafford continued.

The widow looked trapped. “No more than any other well-trained lady.”

Anne shivered, her mood somber as a tomb. “And Mildred—what did you think of my companion?” She brushed away the tears forming at the corner of her eyes.

Mrs. Williams choked back her anger. “I barely knew Mrs. Jenkinson ; I had no opinion one way or the other.”

She thought she might end the conversation there, but Lydia asked, a hint of betrayal playing through her voice,“Was it you, Mrs. Williams, who arranged the cups in the pattern on the serving tray?”

“Again, I am unaware of what you speak!”The woman’s expression grew mutinous.

Georgiana ventured a comment, encouraged by the close proximity of her cousin.“In rows—three, then two, then three, and one alone. The one alone was the one over which my sister and Mrs. Jenkinson dickered.”

Mrs.Williams rose to her feet. “I do not need to stay and listen to this!”

Sir Phillip’s calm voice stayed her. “I am afraid you do, madam. Please return to your chair.”

Her face grew cold. “As you wish.” The lady resentfully sat once more.

“Now tell us, Mrs. Williams, if you arranged the cups on the service tray.”

She gritted her teeth, tightening her jaw. “I did, sir.”

“For what purpose?”

“For no purpose, sir, except that I am the widow of a man who spent his life in the military—a man who preferred things orderly—in rows and perfectly spaced—an old habit.”

Lord Stafford appeared unconvinced. “Why did you not say so without the baronet’s prompting?”

“I am a very private woman,Your Lordship. I recognized how my perversion might appear to the rest of you.”

“Then the last cup—the one from which Mrs. Jenkinson drank—was purely a matter of Fate?” Sir Phillip inquired.

Mrs. Williams raised her chin in defiance. “Even I could have chosen that cup. It could have been any of us in this room, including me.”

A long silence followed as each of them considered what the lady had said. Finally, Mr. Worth broke the quiet. “I ask again: Did you disapprove of Mrs. Jenkinson?”

The widow looked uncomfortable—every eye in the room surveyed her demeanor. “I thought the lady could have shown more restraint,” she declared with some emphasis on the last word.

“Would you explain what you mean by ‘restraint,’ ma’am?” Sir Phillip asked quickly.

Mrs. Williams sat up straighter, throwing her shoulders back—stiff and proper—unbending in her righteousness. “Mrs. Jenkinson held a position where her actions should be of an exemplary nature, but she set a poor example.”

“Mildred Jenkinson was a woman of the first ilk,” Anne defensively charged. “When I was at my lowest, she tended to my needs in lieu of her own. Her last thoughts were of my well-being.”

“I agree, Miss de Bourgh,”Worth expressed wholeheartedly.

Mrs. Williams nearly snarled, “Of course, you would say so, sir. You shared intimacies with Mrs. Jenkinson.”

“The lady and I spoke of her late husband—a man renowned for his
diplomacy.
”

The starchily virtuous woman straightened an imaginary seam on her dress. “A man’s greatness does not define his wife. Mr. Jenkinson’s reputation does not expunge that of Mrs. Jenkinson’s.”

Darcy’s cold voice penetrated the tension filling the room. He blamed himself for not asking the obvious questions and for allowing this creature to enter his household. “Beware, Mrs. Williams. The same might be said of you and the admiral.”

At first, the lady appeared to want to offer a protest, but then a smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “For once, Mr. Darcy, we are in accord.”

“Might we leave Mrs. Jenkinson’s case for a few minutes?” Sir Phillip interrupted.“Do any of you have insights into the deaths of either Mr. Darcy’s footman or the maid?”When a silence ensued, he clarified, “Even if you believe your thoughts without merit, please do not withhold them. Often, a minor detail is the one which turns the screw.”

Lady Catherine cleared her throat. “Darcy, far be it of me to speak poorly of my niece, but I thought it odd that the footman’s death followed the disclosure of someone having invaded Georgiana’s room.”

“I am aware of Miss Darcy’s nightmare,” Sir Phillip noted, “but do you believe,Your Ladyship, that there was more to the story?”

Lady Catherine shifted to face him.“My niece cried out in fear; my daughter and I rushed to her side, but my nephew and his wife assured us it was no more than a nightmare. Then later my niece disclosed to this group in a similar meeting what she believed she heard a voice repeat in her room.”

“Then you consider the possibility the voice belonged to Lawson, the footman,” the baronet said, looking very ill at ease. He realized the implications would infuriate Darcy.

As expected, Darcy intervened, refusing to allow his sister to be portrayed in a poor light. He looked positively murderous, and several of the others automatically shrank back in response. “Miss Darcy has admitted what she heard, and she has addressed how she
met secretly with the young man, teaching him to read. I do not believe there is a connection between the two, despite my aunt’s suspicions.” He thought he could easily strangle his mother’s sister at the moment and enjoy every second of it.The woman purposely tried to deflect the attention from Anne, a culprit in this mess, and send the attention toward Georgiana. Well, she would pay for this betrayal. His good opinion once lost was lost for good.

“Why not?” Worth ventured, ignoring Darcy’s look of contempt. “I mean, none of us are beyond scrutiny.”

“Might I, Fitzwilliam?” Georgiana ventured, her lower lip trembling. The colonel lightly touched her arm, and the girl sucked in a deep breath. “It could not have been Lawson because the night the intruder entered my room, Lawson was in Dove Dale for his sister’s wedding. Do you not remember, Elizabeth? You gave Lawson permission to borrow one of the horses so he could ride to the neighboring village; otherwise, he might have missed the ceremony. He attended the wedding and then returned the next day, after spending the night with his mother. It was the family’s first time together following his father’s passing.”

“Yes, he brought us both a piece of the bridal cake from the breakfast. I remember now that you say it. His mother insisted because of our kindness to her son.” Elizabeth looked at the group, silently daring any of them to dispute what she said. “Like my husband, I am assured the ‘ghost’ my sister heard in her room was not Lawson.The boy’s death resulted from his coming upon our intruder at an inopportune time. No one will convince me otherwise.”

“Mrs. Darcy holds the theory that the boy’s death was staged to appear a suicide.We are aware that Lawson could not have written the note left behind and how the windows did not lend themselves well to such a use. My wife has expressed her opinions previously to that behalf,” Darcy said, summing up the discussion in his authoritative tone.