“My sister, of course. And Mrs. Darcy’s and mine.”
“I believe we can dispense with those rooms,” Stafford remarked as they walked toward the open door.
“No…I insist,” Darcy called from behind them as they exited the room. “No one should be above reproach.”
In Georgiana’s room, Darcy again did the honors of examining the more personal items. Not really expecting to find anything of import in the girl’s room, they spent most of their time reenacting the “floating candle” of which both Miss Darcy and her brother had told the others.
“Here are some letters from you, Colonel.” Worth teasingly thrust several letters into the officer’s open hand. “It seems Miss Darcy prefers your correspondence to those of her other friends.”
“My sister leads a quiet life,” Darcy remarked.“She is a very private person; I cannot imagine Georgiana having a slew of friends to whom to write.”
“Neither can I.” Edward tossed the stack back onto the desk in an act of nonchalance, but a moment of tenderness tugged at his heart.
Finally, they entered the master suite, examining Elizabeth’s quarters first before moving through the adjoining dressing rooms to Darcy’s sitting room and bedchamber.
Edward leaned in close, where the others could not hear.“When was the last time you slept in your father’s old room?” he inquired.
Darcy could feel color rushing to his face. “Of late, I seem to prefer my mother’s previous room,” he muttered.
Edward grinned largely.“You devil! You have finally found happiness. I envy you, Darcy.”
Sir Phillip casually circled Darcy’s bedchamber while Stafford and Worth examined the items on his desk and table.“I see nothing of any remark.” Adam Lawrence thumbed through a stack of bills and some personal correspondence.
“Neither do I,” Worth noted as he rummaged through Darcy’s closet. “Other than several pairs of immaculately shined boots, there is nothing of note.” All the gentlemen except Darcy snorted and chuckled.
Then the four entered the bedchamber and came up short—Edward Fitzwilliam leading the way. All eyes rested on a frowning baronet. “What is it, Sir Phillip?” the colonel asked with an air of authority.
The baronet remarked with a raised eyebrow, “You might wish to see this.”
Lawrence, the colonel, Worth, and Darcy moved en masse to peer over and around the magistrate. They caught the burgundy velvet drape on either side of the posts and pulled the curtains wide to study what Sir Phillip now scrutinized.
“It appears we have found the weapon used to murder Harwood,” the colonel stated. No one moved; they simply stared in disbelief at the bloody towel and straight razor.
“How in the hell did that get in here?” Worth growled. “I am very much—very tired of these games.”
“Someone has been in my room,” Darcy exhaled the words. “Someone is that close to my family…to my wife…to my unborn child…to my sister.” His anger grew by the moment. “I want to find this man. Now!”
Adam Lawrence reached for the bloody evidence.“The man sends you a message, Darcy. He wants you to know he is still here, and he can reach you or reach those you love anytime he so chooses. If you do not stop your intruder soon, Darcy, someone you cherish will die.”The viscount wrapped the blade in the towel and handed it to Sir Phillip.
A cold shiver radiated down Darcy’s spine. “How do I stop him?” His eyes remained fixed on the spot, as if the blood stained the bed linens.
“Have there been any other warnings?” Sir Phillip asked as he carefully placed the items into the drawstring bag.
“None…nothing.” Darcy still had not moved, but his mind now began to process the new information.
Sir Phillip looked about, a bit embarrassed. “I am chagrined to ask this, Mr. Darcy, but when did you last lie in this bed?”
Darcy laughed self-consciously. He did not mind admitting his preference for Elizabeth’s bed to his cousin. After all, he and Edward had few secrets between them. It was a different story to disclose those same facts to the baronet, Stafford, and Worth. But disguise of every sort was his abhorrence. “The night my sister saw the floating light, Mrs. Darcy took Georgiana into her own bed. When my sister finally fell asleep, my wife and I retired to this bed; but I assure you, Sir Phillip, my staff cleans the room daily, whether I choose to sleep in this bed or not.” He smiled slightly. “Now you all know that I am not a London nob who prefers someone other than his wife for company.”
“You do not have to make excuses, Darcy, for actually loving the woman you married,” Worth declared. “Were we all so lucky, society would be for the better.”
Darcy heard his own words echo in his head.
You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.
He realized that men
of a certain rank, captivated by youth and beauty and that appearance of good humor, which youth and beauty generally give, might marry women whose weak understanding and illiberal minds, very early in the marriage, put an end to all real affection. Respect, esteem, and confidence would vanish forever, and all the man’s views of domestic happiness would be overthrown.The gentleman would seek comfort for his disappointment, which his own imprudence had brought on, in any of those pleasures which too often consoles the unfortunate for his folly or his vice. Luckily for Darcy, he had discovered Elizabeth Bennet—her fine eyes—the liveliness of her mind—her handsome face—the depth of her passion and her loyalty—they had all captured his heart—his body and soul—and he had never looked back or questioned his decision to choose the lady as his own. He loved how she had risked everything to challenge his arrogance—how she did not accept his words unless she found true merit within them—and how Elizabeth had taken his household within her grasp and given it a great shake.“I am fortunate to have attained Mrs. Darcy’s affection.”
“Amen!” Edward cried. “I second Mr.Worth’s avowal.”
“May we return to our search?” Sir Phillip directed the conversation away from the Darcys’ close association.
Darcy resolutely distracted himself from his need to find his wife and take her into his embrace—to tell her of his love and to keep her from harm. “Indeed, Sir Phillip.” He glanced about the room. “Have we finished in here?”
The magistrate nodded, and the others preceded them through the chamber door. Darcy took a place by the baronet.“I appreciate your confidence in me, sir,” he whispered. “You did not consider me guilty of the attack on the lieutenant.”
“There
are
human contrivances in place at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy; yet, I do not consider you a man foolish enough to leave an instrument of murder haphazardly lying about and then to ask the local magistrate into your room, where he would find it.” Darcy stared at the man, but Sir Phillip did not even turn his head.
“This one is mine.”Adam Lawrence stepped to the side to allow the others to enter before him. “Not much in here. Neither Miss Donnel nor I planned to be away more than a week.The wardrobe is quite empty compared with those of the Darcys. Other than the books, which I have carried upstairs to while away some of the hours at Pemberley, I believe you will find nothing of report.”
Again, the magistrate circled the room, lightly touching the viscount’s clothes brush, his toiletries, and an empty coffee cup. “Everything seems as it should be.”
Edward picked up one of the books. “What piques your interest, Stafford?”The colonel turned the book over to look at the title. “
Apotropaics
? Really, Lawrence, does that not seem a bit eccentric?”
“Darcy prefers the classics and those war journals. Finding ways to ward off demons seemed only appropriate at Pemberley.” The viscount took the book from the colonel’s outstretched hand. “I have always had an odd sense of humor.”
Worth moved to the door.“We should probably view the rooms formerly occupied by Miss de Bourgh and her companion.”
“Lead on,Worth.” Sir Phillip gestured toward the connecting hall.
Darcy informed the baronet that he had given orders that no one was to enter or touch the room since the evening they had moved his cousin’s belongings to her new quarters. They searched the adjoining rooms thoroughly, looking for anything unusual.
“Mrs. Jenkinson owned no skin preparations that could have led to her death,” Sir Phillip observed, returning the woman’s toiletries to the dresser.
“Meaning that the lady’s death did not come from a buildup of arsenic in her body,” the colonel observed.
“Precisely,” the baronet concurred. “Nor from a mistaken overage of her own making.”
Worth handed the magistrate a packet of letters, smudged and crinkled with reading and rereading. “These appear to be from the lady’s husband. They have been franked in different parts of the world. The late Mr. Jenkinson was a diplomat of sorts. They were probably all she had left of the man.”
Sir Phillip accepted the papers and placed them in his bag. “I am sure they will lead to nothing, but I will read the letters just the same. If I can locate the woman’s family, I will see they are sent on to Mrs. Jenkinson’s relatives.”
Worth felt the sadness of being in the room of a woman whom he sorely missed. “My chamber is two doors along the hallway. Shall we see what I have hidden away?” Worth laughed, trying to make light of what they did.
“It seems only prudent,” Sir Phillip said as he led the way from Mrs. Jenkinson’s former room. “What secrets do you keep, Nigel?” the magistrate remarked as they entered Worth’s room.
“As a man who practices law, I have many, as you well know, Sir Phillip.” Worth lit several candles, as he had earlier shut the heavy drapes to keep in the room’s heat.Worth’s room lacked the pristine appearance of Darcy’s or Stafford’s. Legal papers lay strewn upon the desk; the man evidently continued to work on his cases while at Pemberley. Several shirts and waistcoats decorated the backs of two chairs.Worth chuckled when he saw their faces. “I travel with no man of service. I must tend to my own things, and bachelors are renowned for a lack of housekeeping.”
“Yet, you are a rich man,Worth,” Darcy added quickly.“You can afford someone to tend to your dress.”
“I have never needed to impress others with the cut of my coat. Most people who seek me out are more concerned with my ability to manipulate the law for their benefit than how fashionably dressed I am.” However, their censure for his messy ways caused him to pick up some of the items scattered about the room—folding them or placing them on hangers. “I suppose I shall need to change my ways,” he said sheepishly as he placed a shirt in the wardrobe, “especially if I plan to call on Miss de Bourgh. I am aware of Her Ladyship’s need for all things of which society demands.”
“Do not allow my vexatious aunt to change your ways to match hers,” Colonel Fitzwilliam warned. “Continue to cultivate your own style.” Worth listened carefully to the gentleman’s unspoken
words and then nodded his understanding. “If my cousin chooses you, Worth,” the colonel continued, “the management of Anne’s fortune and the running of Rosings Park falls under your domain. Her Ladyship will need to curry favor with you for what you will allow her as the Dowager Lady de Bourgh. Treat Lady Catherine with kindness, but also with firmness. It will increase your domestic felicity to not give Her Ladyship the upper hand.”
“Thank you, Colonel.”
“Worth,” Lord Stafford called from behind the desk, “what are these?”
The solicitor looked a bit embarrassed, but he answered matter-of-factly. “I was making some notes for an associate in Newcastle on a case he plans to bring before the court in that jurisdiction.”
“But these notes are regarding what you know of George Wickham.” A touch of skepticism rang through his tone.
Worth confirmed, “They are, sir.”
Darcy quietly motioned for his men to withdraw while they discussed the matter.
When the last man had closed the chamber door, the viscount asked, “Does Mrs.Wickham know?”
Before Worth could answer, Darcy took up the man’s defense. “Mr. Worth prosecuted Mr. Wickham several years ago for gambling debts. Worth’s former associate, Mr. O’Malley, remembered Worth’s connection with Mr. Wickham. Mr. O’Malley sought a consultation with Mr. Worth. Purely by coincidence, in Nottingham, Mr. Wickham left his wife to board the same public conveyance as rode Mr.Worth.”
“Has Wickham accumulated more debt?” Edward hissed. He was aware of how often Darcy had bailed out the hapless punter.
Worth rejoined the tale. “Of some quantity, if my colleague is to be believed.”
Edward’s protest came immediately,“Darcy, you cannot think—
Uncomfortable with the rest of the men knowing the extent of his past involvement with Wickham, Darcy interrupted his cousin’s
admonishment. “Mr. Wickham has placed his financial security beyond those from his family who might come to his aid.” Quietly, he added, “In addition to his pecuniary problems, it appears that the gentleman sometimes lifts a hand to his wife—especially when Mrs. Wickham displays her more boisterous nature, which we all know she possesses.” The other men understood the depth of Darcy’s hatred for his former school chum, a man for whom Darcy’s own father had tried to provide a living but who led a life of idleness and dissipation. “If Mr. O’Malley chooses to pursue this case, I will make no move to save Mrs.Wickham’s husband, despite the shame it may reflect upon Mrs. Darcy or this estate.”
“Is there anything else, Sir Phillip? Or may we inspect another room?”Worth inquired.
“Indeed,” the gentleman replied. “Let us press on.”
Worth exited, pausing briefly in the hallway to wait for the others. “Who is next? Mrs.Williams or Mrs.Wickham?”
They all waited for Sir Phillip’s direction. “The admiral’s widow,” he commanded. The baronet turned toward the room at the top of the stairs. “I do not need to remind each of you of the importance of documenting what we find in this room.” Gravely, he turned the handle to open the door.