Read The Phantom of Pemberley Online

Authors: Regina Jeffers

The Phantom of Pemberley (38 page)

 
For well over an hour, the Darcys shared what they knew of the mysterious deaths. “It is almost as if there is more than one perpetrator,” Sir Phillip remarked. “My study of the law and my twenty years serving as a magistrate tell me that, usually, a murderer follows the same pattern in committing his crimes.These are very distinct wrongs. It makes very little sense.”
“I had hoped,” Darcy began, “that your years in this capacity would give you insights we others lacked.”
“I believe it is time I spoke to your guests.” Sir Phillip stood and moved to behind Darcy’s desk. “I plan to occupy your work area for a few hours, my Boy.”
“Certainly, Sir Phillip. Anything you need.” Darcy stood also. “With whom did you wish to speak first, sir?”
Sir Phillip settled in Darcy’s chair. “I think the viscount if you do not mind, Darcy. I am familiar with Mr. Worth—testified in more than one of his cases, but I am not aware of the viscount.”
“The man is right intelligent, although a bit of a rebel; I believe you will find His Lordship most helpful, however.” Darcy pulled the bell cord to call his servant. “In a short while, I have a meeting with my aunt, her daughter, and Lieutenant Harwood, so I will be
engaged with a family matter for an hour or so. But Mrs. Darcy will be happy to serve you, Sir Phillip.”
“One thing I need both you and Mrs. Darcy to do is to become better listeners. Do not simply take what people say at face value. Someone in this household knows the truth of these mysteries, and I mean to find out who that is. We will succeed, my Boy. Never you fear.” Sir Phillip took out foolscap and began to sharpen a pen. Very businesslike, the baronet explained what he expected them to do. “Both the midday meal and the morning tea will also allow us some time to assess your guests. I realize that you previously searched for missing bed linens and candleholders, but we need to complete a different type of search.We must look through drawers and the wardrobe—examine papers—look in the ladies’ cosmetics. Someone has arsenic. Someone knows something you have missed because of your sense of propriety.”
“I understand, Sir Phillip.” Darcy looked about uncomfortably. “My men and I are at your disposal.”
Elizabeth and Georgiana gathered the cups and placed them on the tray.“I shall inform the kitchen of the extra setting, Fitzwilliam. Do you suppose Her Ladyship will take tea with us?”
“Possibly we should apprise Lady Catherine of Sir Phillip’s presence,” Darcy whispered.
“I will see to it. Come, Georgiana.” She caught the girl’s arm. “I will speak to Lady Catherine. Might you check on Miss de Bourgh?”
The girl nodded, but she was lost in her own musings.Taking a closer look, Elizabeth realized the agitation Darcy’s sister portrayed. “What is it, Georgiana?”
The girl stopped suddenly and looked alarmed. She stammered, “I-I just re-remembered where I have seen Lieutenant Harwood before. It is something I have been unable to release since meeting the lieutenant yesterday evening. He was the man by the cottages that first day, the one leaning against the tree.”
Darcy was by her side, supporting her weight against his body as she swayed in place. “Are you sure, Georgiana?”
“Absolutely, Fitzwilliam.The lieutenant has been close by since before the snowstorm. He lied about riding in from Liverpool in the past two days.”
CHAPTER 17
DARCY TURNED GEORGIANA to him. “Do not repeat what you just said aloud where anyone else might hear. You must not share this information with the others. It is imperative that it remain among only we three and the baronet.”The girl looked frightened, but she nodded her understanding. “No one, Georgiana,” her brother insisted. “Especially not our cousin.”
Elizabeth touched his hand lightly, letting him know how his intensity affected Georgiana. “Our sister will do your bidding, my Husband,” she whispered softly. “Georgiana understands the sensitivity of your dealings with the lieutenant.”
Darcy blinked twice to restore his composure. “I beg your forgiveness, Georgiana. I do not question your loyalty.”
“I will be careful, Fitzwilliam.”
“I know, my Dear.” He gently cupped Georgiana’s cheek. “I have always trusted you.”
“Come, Georgiana,” Elizabeth encouraged the girl. “We must set the stage for your brother’s negotiations with your family.”
Darcy caught Elizabeth’s hand as his sister started away. “You two are to stay away from Harwood,” he warned.
Elizabeth acknowledged his caution with a slight shake of her head. “I shall protect Georgiana.”
“I want you safe also,” he murmured. “You are my life.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard. He often said the most startling things at the most unexpected times. Her eyes shimmered, and her lower
lip trembled. His earnestness completely captured her. She nodded and offered him a full smile before exiting the room.
 
Lady Catherine reluctantly accepted Elizabeth’s invitation to join the household for tea. She still had offered her nephew’s wife no apology, but she kept a civil tongue in her head and prayed it would be enough to pacify Darcy. The thought of deigning to admit her wrongdoing did not sit well with Her Ladyship.
“Sir Phillip,” she said in acknowledgment of the man, who stood upon her entrance.“I am pleased to see you again after all these years.”
The baronet clicked his heels together before bowing in her direction. “Catherine Fitzwilliam de Bourgh, you are as beautiful as ever.” He kissed Lady Catherine’s fingertips.
“And you, Sir Phillip, are a perpetual liar.” She swatted at his arm with her gloved hand. “Come, sit beside me so we might speak of our days at Matlock.”
“As you wish,Your Ladyship.”
 
Soon the room filled with congenial company; Sir Phillip spoke often to Lady Catherine, but Darcy carefully noted how much more often, and with some degree of stealth, the man’s eyes drifted to the others enjoying the midmorning’s refreshments. Sir Phillip looked at each of them—listening to their words—trying to deduce what each was thinking. Darcy followed the baronet’s eyes with his own, trying desperately to observe in his guests what the magistrate saw—looking for something he had not seen previously.
Darcy’s gaze fell upon Mrs. Williams. She looked down at her lap, appearing deeply exhausted. When had she become so tired looking? Dark circles rimmed her eyes—charcoal smudges telling tales of no sleep—or of a guilty conscience, perhaps, or of twisted lies. Evelyn Williams did not stir—did not speak—simply stared unrelentingly at her teacup.
“Is something the matter with the refreshments, Mrs.Williams?” Elizabeth had noted his interest in the woman and spoke the words he could not.
Instantly alert, the woman stammered,“Noth-nothing is wrong. Everything is exquisite, as usual, Mrs. Darcy.You set a most admirable table.” Mrs. Williams took the cup in hand and returned to her tea, obviously shaken to have brought notice to herself.
“I wonder where Lieutenant Harwood has taken himself off to?” Cathleen Donnel commented as she motioned for more tea from the footman.
“Building up his appetite,” the viscount grumbled.
Mr. Worth whispered conspiratorially, “Harwood will show when he thinks our solitude least bearable.”
Stafford looked very displeased. “The man does have a knack for a grand entrance—reminds me of a distant cousin on my father’s side—likes to come late to every engagement so he might be the center of attention—a deceptive conceit.”
Lady Catherine displayed a determined smile. Her words, however, belied her attempt at politeness. “If I were never to see the man again, it would be too soon.”
“It appears the lieutenant has a few critics,” Sir Phillip remarked to no one in particular. His notice reminded Darcy to listen to what people said between the words, and that even silence spoke volumes. Of course, he expected Nigel Worth would disapprove of Harwood—the man’s interest in Anne would make it so, but to hear Stafford voice his dislike surprised Darcy. His eyes first met Elizabeth’s and then Spurlock’s. They both returned his gaze with interest; they, too, had heard the tone of the viscount’s words.
Not unexpectedly, Anne had absented herself from the group. Darcy had anticipated her reluctance to see Harwood before their intended meeting. At Elizabeth’s earlier suggestion, he had sent Georgiana to Anne’s room to keep their cousin company. “One never knows whether Harwood might speak to Anne privately,” he told his wife. “He may try to intimidate Anne or even play on her sympathies.” Now, he wondered if his prediction had proved true: Perhaps Harwood had chosen to confront Anne—even going so far as to appear at his cousin’s bedroom door. Darcy’s first instinct was to rush from the room and to put an end to the man’s
plan, but Elizabeth, who had graciously abdicated her position of importance at the room’s center to his aunt and who now, quite naturally, sat on his right, whispered, “Georgiana will send word if the lieutenant calls unannounced on Miss de Bourgh.”
Darcy shot her a surprised look, but Elizabeth remained impassive, feigning no knowledge of what had just passed between them. “How is it that after barely a year of our marriage you are capable of reading my thoughts so expertly?” He leaned toward her—a private moment between husband and wife. If others saw, they would think he gave her instructions regarding a household matter.
Quite naturally, she turned her head and murmured, “We have an undeniable connection—a oneness that spans the universe.”
“I love you,” he whispered into her hair.
Elizabeth flushed but made no other comment.
“Mrs. Wickham,” Lord Stafford spoke sympathetically to the woman across from him, “how long will you remain with your sister? Shall yours be a lengthy visit?”
Lydia had been exceedingly quiet. In fact, few had seen her since her hysterics had sent her elder sister flying across the room. Although she answered civilly, her response lacked her usual exuberance. “If my sister will tolerate my intrusion, I had hoped for another fortnight, at least. My husband will not return from Bath before then. I so despise being in Newcastle without him—going among the officers unescorted is simply not done.”
“Going unescorted in society is always frowned upon, Mrs. Wickham,” he casually noted.
Lydia nodded passively. “So it is,Your Lordship.”
Elizabeth joined their conversation. “Of course, you must stay with us, Lyddie.” She knew her younger sister’s sense of guilt greatly outweighed the “crime.” “You have seen nothing of Pemberley or of the neighborhood, except for the sledding hill.The weather will change shortly, and we will have much to occupy us, I assure you. I do know how you thrive on social interactions.”
“Thank you, Lizzy,” she murmured. “I would enjoy spending
time with you and with Miss Darcy. I truly miss my sisters and walking to Meryton daily and teasing Mary and Mama and Papa.”
Elizabeth smiled indulgently at her youngest sister. Lydia Wickham, although married for more than a year, was but seventeen and was still a young girl.“As do I, Lydia. We shall raid the village shops of their finest, and I will see a smile upon your face again.”
The girl gave her sister the shyest of smiles. “I will honestly try, Lizzy.”
 
After the refreshments, Darcy dutifully led his aunt into one of the smaller drawing rooms, away from the main hallway. He sent a footman for Anne and asked Mr. Worth to join them shortly. “I wish to speak to you privately,Your Ladyship,” he said as he set the door ajar. Lady Catherine said nothing, but she graciously accepted the support of his arm. Darcy became more aware of her feebleness, but it did not change his resolve to speak honestly to his mother’s only sister. Once she was comfortably seated, he continued. “I am gratified by your agreement to remain at Pemberley, Aunt, but it is my understanding that you have made no move to apologize to Mrs. Darcy. I thought I made myself perfectly clear on that point.” He seated himself across from her, settling back into the cushions and giving the impression of being completely in control.
“I have had no opportunity.” His aunt shifted a bit uncomfortably, adjusting a shawl about her shoulders to fill the awkward moments.
“Did not Mrs. Darcy call upon you earlier to assure your presence at tea?”
He watched her in silence, forcing her to respond. “Yes,” she said grudgingly.
When she added nothing more, Darcy frowned. “Was that not an opportunity to address your regrets to my wife? No one would have had reason to hear but Elizabeth.”
“I could not find the words.” For a brief moment, her countenance softened; then a shuddering gasp for air brought her haughty stare.
Darcy shuttered his true feelings. “Then I suggest not only do you find the words, but you also find the opportunity to utter them in sincerity to Mrs. Darcy, or else I will personally have your belongings packed and will order your carriage.”
“You would do such a thing!” she declared.

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