“It seems to have created more questions than answers,” Mary agreed. “Let’s keep looking.”
For the next two hours, Mary and Atlas scoured the surrounding woods, but did not turn up anything of any significance.
“It has either been carried off too far away, or destroyed by animals.” Atlas announced with a sigh as he rose and assisted Mary upright to allow her cramped muscles to ease.
Rubbing her offending limbs, she agreed with a bit of disappointment. “The only other possibility is the murderer took everything else with him.”
“That does provide hope. Identifying objects may allow the police to not only discover the identity of our poor fellow, but also catch the person responsible.”
Mary nodded, but was prevented from reply by a loud unladylike grumble of her stomach.
Eyebrows raised, Atlas laughed. “I’m starving as well. I hope that was a picnic basket you brought along this morning?”
“Indeed, filled with Mrs. Kincaid’s finest, but let us find a more appetizing location.”
“Most definitely!”
*****
As Atlas and Mary departed the wood and drove away, they remained unaware of their observer, hidden some yards across the empty stretch of road. While he had not been able to discern all of the conversation, enough had been overheard to realize that he must destroy all evidence of the recently deceased Grayson Everfield. There must be nothing to tie him to the remains. He had not wanted to waste the money he could have gained by selling the dead man’s possessions, but it may be a loss he would have to take. Hurrying back to his lodgings, he placed what was left of Grayson Everfield’s worldly goods in a burlap sack. He’d burn the items after the residents of the inn retired for the night, hiding his crime forever.
~Eleven~
London, three days later…
As Elizabeth Darcy gave instructions for the final preparations to make the day’s journey to Meryton from the Darcy’s London townhouse, she pondered as to the nature of gift she and her husband would bestow upon the expectant parents.
“I want something unique… tasteful, but not extravagant.” She mused aloud in her now empty chamber. Taking in the deep rose colored furnishings and Cherrywood tester bed she smiled to herself. Jane Bingley was not the only one who would be producing an heir in the coming months. However, not one to steal another’s sunshine, Elizabeth did not plan on making any sort of announcement just yet. She had not even told Darcy, having only recently confirmed her suspicions earlier that week. Dr. Harrington estimated that she was only a few weeks along and travel was quite acceptable, but knowing her husband’s protective nature, Lizzie had decided to keep her secret a bit longer. Besides, she wanted the right moment to tell him… alone… not surrounded by the clatter of her boisterous family. With her own pregnancy in mind, it made it all the more difficult to consider what gift to bestow upon the Bingley baby. Perhaps she and Darcy could visit a few shops in the hours before their departure. Chuckling, Lizzie imagined his face at the mere suggestion of shopping. If there was one thing Fitzwilliam Darcy disliked greatly, it was shopping with no particular fixed idea. As a man who did everything with a purpose, down to the last detail, it would pain him greatly to wander aimlessly while his wife searched for the unknown. Fortunately for Elizabeth, he denied her nothing. Finding her husband in his study, she was pleased when he readily agreed to the outing.
“Of course we must go. Besides, that new book on indigenous fur bearing aquatic animals of America is quite not to my tastes. I wonder if your sister Mary would like it?” he agreed as he closed the tome and brushed a microscopic piece of lint from his coat.
“I am sure she will absolutely adore such a thing,” Lizzie laughed with a roll of her eyes. Indeed, Mary would be ecstatic over the acquisition of such a prize, but it did not solve her current dilemma.
“Any suggestions for Jane and Charles? I am sure that they have already bought everything they need, but I just want a small token of some sort.” she asked.
“Hmm… perhaps an antique plaything or some such bobble?”
“Do you think we could find such a thing at this late hour?”
“I believe I know just the place. If you are ready to leave we shall have enough time to take in some luncheon at the Apricot Room before we begin our journey.”
Lizzie Darcy nodded and took her husband’s proffered arm as they headed towards the door to await the carriage. She was indeed fortunate to have found such a thoughtful man, and could not wait to present him with his own child as a way to show her appreciation for all he did for her on a daily basis. If only her other sisters could be so happy? Jane of course was settled, but Lydia’s choice had been disastrous. Hopefully, Mary and Kitty would soon find equal happiness. While Kitty had not lost any time in her quest to find a husband, especially now that she was in possession of a respectable dowry and significant connections, it was strange to think of Mary getting married at all. A recent letter from her father suggested that the local doctor, Atlas Sutton was still interested, but Mary was less than encouraging beyond friendship. Lizzie had only met the man once, and had liked him immediately, but how did her sister feel? Vowing to make time during the Meryton visit to speak privately with Mary, Elizabeth turned her focus to her shopping quest as the carriage arrived.
In less than a ten minute drive through the crowded London streets, Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam Darcy arrived at a tiny shop tucked between two respectable menswear establishments. An elaborately scrolled sign bore the words “The Silver Emporium”. Through the glazed windows, an assortment of fine objects, both purposeful and decorative, caught the early morning sun. Alighting to the pavement, Lizzie shook her head in amazement. No wonder her husband had known about its location so quickly. For a man who professed to hate shopping, he knew exactly where to go for anything.
Entering the shop, it was reminiscent of Aladdin’s cave or the horde of a dragon and Elizabeth’s eye was drawn to the sheer multitude of objects on display.
“Good morning Mr. Darcy! How might I assist you today? Is this lovely lady your wife?” greeted a tiny man bearing round horn-rimmed spectacles.
“Good Morning Davies.” Darcy returned to proprietor with a familiarity that suggested a frequency of visits.
“May I present my wife, Elizabeth Bennet Darcy. We are here in search of a baby gift, for Mrs. Darcy’s sister,” Darcy explained as the little man bowed deeply in response to Lizzie’s curtsey.
Winking at her smile, Reginald Davies waved a hand at his wares. “My shop is at your disposal, madam. I acquire only the finest. Have you something particular in mind?”
“No… actually, I have not the faintest idea. Perhaps a bit of wandering about will set my sights on something. Darcy tells me you have just about everything.”
Beaming from the compliment, Mr. Davies allowed Darcy to lead him back to the long polished countertop that ran one length of the shop. “I suggest we allow her some leisure.” Darcy suggested as Lizzie wandered slowly about the tables covered with displays. He too had a purchase to make, but did not want Lizzie to know. With their first anniversary arriving in just a month, he had his own plans for celebration.
Leaving the men to what was probably a dry business conversation, Lizzie picked up one object after another, only to discard it as either too elaborate or two plain. It was not until she neared the rear of the shop that a small silver rattle with an ivory handle caught her eye. Picking it up, Lizzie stroked the well-polished item with a sense of longing. It was perfect, and not a moment too soon. She was nearly to the end of the shop. Taking the treasure, Lizzie started to make her way back to where the gentlemen stood chatting when a flash of light caught her eye as she passed. Stopping to peer at the glass enclosed case, a gasp of surprise and shock escaped her lips as she recognized the object inside.
It was a beautiful strand of pearls, grey in color, each one perfectly matched to the next, with a large teardrop shaped ruby dangling from the center. It had been th
e flash of crimson that had attracted her attention and now held it fast. Overhearing his wife’s reaction, Darcy joined Lizzie as she continued to stare at the lovely piece.
“I see you have found something…not exactly what I expected for a baby, but would you like it?” he offered humorously, but stopped when he saw that her face registered confusion instead of pleasure.
“My father gave my mother an identical necklace some years ago… it was for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. I never imagined to see something so like it again.”
By now, Reginald Davies had unlocked the case and produced the item for his esteemed client’s inspection, smiling broadly at the hope of a considerable sale. However, Lizzie’s distress increased as she turned over the clasp in her hands. Under the lamplight that illuminated the case, she exposed the engraving for the men to see.
“M. Bennet…Mama… how can this be?” Lizzie whispered.
Turning to the now nervous proprietor, Darcy demanded an explanation. Reddening deeply, Davies stammered in defense in an equally low voice.
“It happens sometimes… when a family is in financial distress…” he said.
Darcy’s mouth was set in a grim line as he considered the possibility. It had been less than a year since Mary Bennet had discovered the hidden Bennet fortune buried in the family cemetery. Had his father-in-law needed the money? A man’s pride was a sensitive matter, Mr. Bennet would have been reluctant to requests funds from his son-in-law after the circumstances of his youngest daughter’s marriage. It was possible that the piece had been sold to support the Longbourn estate.
“How long have you had this?” Darcy queried.
“I am not sure exactly… as we had been discussing while Mrs. Darcy looked about, I have only just returned to England. My nephew Morris has been minding the shop in my absence. It cannot have been very long, less than a year, I should think. I shall produce the record of purchase if you wish?”
“That won’t be necessary,” replied Lizzie as she replace the necklace on its velvet stand. She knew all too well that her family had struggled to live within her father’s income. Her own wedding, although combined with Jane’s, had been of considerable cost. She could well imagine that her mother would be willing to part with her jewelry. It must have been sold prior to Mary’s discovery. Forcing a smile, she held up the antique rattle.
“I shall be needing this wrapped.”
“And the necklace.” Darcy added.
“Oh no… it is too much.” Lizzie protested, but was met with a gentle raised hand of refusal.
“I insist… even if it is just for sentimental reasons. Please… allow me.” Darcy insisted.
Suppressing her happiness to a smile of gratitude, Elizabeth followed the proprietor to the front of the shop as he finalized the purchase and wrapped the items in colored tissue paper.
“I shall look into the matter of the receipt. At least for my own conscience, and inform you of what I find.” Mr. Davies whispered to Darcy as the couple left the shop.
“That would be most appreciated,” Darcy added. He had an unsettled feeling about the matter, and would be happy to have some answers. He did not want Lizzie to worry about her father.
~Twelve~
Netherfield, Three days later…
Mary Bennet fussed with her dress as the carriage from Longbourn made the three mile journey to the home of her sister. It was not like her to be occupied with her appearance and the realization that she actually was beginning to care how she looked was unsettling. Beside her, Kitty prattled ceaselessly about the invited guests. It seemed that she would never be silent, but at least it kept her occupied. Seated opposite, Mrs. Bennet was smiling as she observed her middle child fret. It was about time that Mary gave a care to herself. After all, the festivities in honor of Jane’s impending arrival would provide an excellent opportunity to encounter eligible men. Ever since the residents of Longbourn had benefited by the increase in income provided by Mary’s discovery, a steady stream of eligible gentlemen had come to call upon Kitty. If the girl played her cards well, she’d be married before year’s end. However, except for that penniless doctor, and a number of unsuitable tutors, no one had made any advances towards Mary. If only she would make an effort, all would be well. Sighing audibly, the elder Bennet woman cast her gaze out the carriage window. Cares about Mary and Kitty had only added to her recent distress. Nearing fifty years of age, the prospect of entering her dotage had become all the more apparent with the announcement of Jane’s pregnancy. While she was positively overjoyed at the idea, being called Grandmamma had pricked her ego. As a result, she had taken great pains with her appearance this morning and had dressed carefully. Unfortunately, her attire was incomplete. Mrs. Bennet’s favorite pearl necklace had turned up missing. Always forgetful, she was irritated at her carelessness and had been forced to make do with a simple gold chain or be hopelessly late for the party. Pursing her lips in frustration, she vowed to have the servants turn the house upside-down on the morrow. It must be found.
Soon, the carriage turned onto the crushed gravel drive of Netherfield. Mary could see the wide open doors and carefully tended shrubbery as the guests lined up to enter. They were late… as usual. Scanning the crowd as she was handed down by a liveried footman, she did not immediately see Atlas Sutton. He had promised to be there and had claimed the first dance. She had hoped to spend some time discussing the unknown man in the ice house, but that now seemed an impossibility as the number of invited persons would render private conversation impossible. It was bad enough that Charles Bingley’s sister, Caroline, would be in attendance. Mary wrinkled her nose at the very thought of that woman. Acknowledging her uncharitable thoughts did little to alleviate her distaste for the vain creature. However, Mary knew full well how siblings could be very different persons, she need only compare herself to Lydia. Resolving to enjoy herself as much as possible, at least for Jane’s sake, Mary would try to avoid Miss Bingley but instead found her face to face with the viper as she stood next to Jane in the receiving line.
“Ah Miss Mary Bennet…” Caroline sneered as Mary, Kitty and Mrs. Bennet entered and took their places alongside Jane. By now, nearly all of the guests had arrived and their roles assisting the hostess were unneeded. Much put out by Caroline usurping her place, Mrs. Bennet lamented loudly about the rudeness of others until placating maneuvers by Jane allowed Mary to escape into the crowd and find Atlas.
“Finally! I have been searching everywhere!” Mary gasped breathlessly as she plunked herself down beside the young doctor. The small bench upon which he sat was in an alcove in the considerable gardens of the estate. It was hardly private with the crush of guests overflowing the main reception area set up on the stone balcony that overlooked the grounds, but Mary was only interested in the body they had been examining earlier that week. She had been forced to forgo assisting Atlas for the past two days as her presences was needed to attend to not only her mother’s demands, but also the running of Longbourn, rather neglected in her absence.
“Have you discovered anything else?” she demanded without any polite preamble.
“Good afternoon to you too, Miss Bennet,” he replied with a smile. Long accustomed to Mary’s blunt nature, Atlas took what would be perceived as rudeness in stride. As it was, he was greatly fatigued by his work and had hoped to spend the day avoiding it at all costs. However, if discussion of a corpse was what it took to keep Mary Bennet’s undivided attention, then he would acquiesce.
To his polite address, Mary replied with a swat to his arm. “Oh Atlas…so formal…I apologize, but Mama has been doing her best to monopolize my every waking moment. I need your logical presence to keep me from going completely insane. If it were not for my studies and time helping you, I would have been committed to an asylum long before now.”
Atlas refrained from comment, he knew full well how insistent Mrs. Bennet could be when the whim took her… which was often. However, the mention of Mary’s handsome tutor sent
what was becoming an all too familiar twinge of jealousy through him. Looking past her at the guests filtering about the lawn, he did not see his presumed rival anywhere.
“Did Mr. Everfield accompany you here?” he asked innocently.
“Who? ... Oh him… No, Charles invited him to come earlier as the gentlemen were scheduled to go out shooting or some such thing. Quite honestly, I had not paid much attention.”
With relief flooding him, Atlas relaxed and answered the myriad of questions she posed about his exam.
“Unfortunately, I have not been able to discover much more about him and we are running out of time. Soon, the remains will be so far gone that any evidence will be ruined. This recent run of warm weather has not helped, even the massive chunks of ice are beginning to melt. Besides, you know how Sir Philip feels about this sort of work, the faster we can bury the poor soul the better. I just wish there was more to study.”
Mary groaned, indeed, she was acutely aware of her Godfather’s opinions on the field of forensics. It was a small miracle that he had even allowed her to assist. It would not do to upset him. The idea of an unsolved murder was what kept the magistrate from stopping the proceedings. Before Mary could continue her questions, the sound of the gong announcing luncheon pierced the crowd. Offering his arm, Atlas rose and escorted Mary back to the house. He was casually deliberate to take a circuitous route that offered the largest number of people to notice his presence with Mary. It was unfair play, but a few tongues wagging about them may help nudge her a bit. Still hesitant to declare his feelings to her, lest she permanently reject him, he would resort to subtle encouragements. This behavior was not lost on the residents of Meryton, especially Mrs. Bennet.
The elder Bennet woman had permanently ensconced herself at Jane’s side, to be balanced by the rational presence of Elizabeth Darcy on the other. One would think that it was she who was the object of the festivities for how she fawned with praise and authority over Jane. But, as a mother of two as yet unmarried young ladies, one eye was always on the watch. Spying Mary on the arm of Atlas Sutton, she whispered loudly to her married daughters.
Mary Bennet and the Longbourn Tutor Page 6