“If yer lookin’ fer the gentleman who keeps that room, he ain’t here… or his friends,” announced a tired voice from the end of the hall.
Darcy and Atlas noted the scrubwoman’s bucket and rags as she rose from the damp floor and nodded politely.
“Do you know where he has gone?” Atlas inquired.
“They don’t tell me their plans,” she replied, but made no attempt to continue her labors.
“Do you know how long he’s been gone?” Darcy asked as he fished in his pocket for a shilling. Apparently, Mr. Everfield had recovered. Perhaps what knowledge the maid possessed would come more easily with a few coins.
Breaking into a gap-toothed smile, the woman tucked the coins into her bodice with grimy fingers and bobbed a curtsey. “It be some hours… the midday crew were gone already, so it were quiet… except for the arguing.”
“What arguing? Did someone threaten Mr. Everfield?”
“I don’t know no names… but it were somethin’ about money… always is…”
Disappointed, Darcy and Atlas left the inn without seeing any sign of Grayson Everfield. Slightly worried that his former friend may have financial troubles, Darcy left his card with the innkeeper. Unfortunately, he needed to return to London on the morrow. Saying his goodbyes to Atlas, Darcy returned to Netherfield with the hope of a relaxing evening before the next day’s travel. However, the Bingley home was not its usual abode of serenity. Darcy found the household in distress and the presence of Mr. Andrews, the local constable and the entire Netherfield staff lined up at attention in the main hall.
“Whatever is the matter?” Darcy demanded as he entered the main floor library of Charles Bingley and closed the door behind.
“It seems we have a thief… a number of valuable have disappeared,” replied Charles with tired exasperation.
Already seated in the overstuffed room were Elizabeth Darcy, and Sir Philip Evans, the local magistrate. Darcy rubbed his eyes as he too sank deeply onto the upholstered sofa next to his bride. Suddenly, he felt exhausted. A simple celebration party was becoming a disaster.
“I have already told Charles and Sir Philip about Mama’s necklace. Jane was so upset that I sent her to bed, it is best that she not be involved,” Lizzie informed her husband.
“What is missing? There must have been over a hundred guests, not including various servants. It will be near impossible to discover the culprit,” Darcy asked.
“That is what is most troubling. All the items were taken from the master chamber… a pair of diamond cufflinks and Jane’s emerald ring from Grandmother Bennet are of the most value. At first I thought they were simply misplaced, but the lock on Jane’s jewelry box appears to have been tampered.”
Sir Philip Evans groaned audibly. He had experienced similar situations in the past. Usually the guilty party was a member of the family, driven by jealousy or gambling debts. Unfortunately, with his intimate knowledge of the Bennet family, he could not suggest a single suspect. “Constable Andrews is taking the statements of your staff, but it may be difficult to catch a thief who obviously has knowledge of both estates. I can only suggest that everyone be wary until the person is apprehended.”
Bingley nodded and escorted Sir Philip out before returning and pouring himself a double measure of brandy. Handing a matching glass to Darcy, he again took his seat. Alone, as Lizzie had gone to check on Jane, he sat in silent contemplation with his best friend for a few moments before speaking.
“I do apologize for involving you in my family distress,” he began, but was cut short.
“We are now all the same family… do not give it a second thought.” Darcy replied.
Bingley smiled and drank a third of the contents of his glass. Ever the optimist, he changed the subject.
“Did you and Dr. Sutton manage to see ol’ Grayson Everfield?”
“Actually no… and now that seems all the more strange.”
Darcy relayed the events that took place at Meryton’s only inn. The more he spoke, the greater a sense of unease grew. “If only I had been able to see him, perhaps I could have been of assistance in some way.”
“It does make me question his purpose here. It seems all too convenient, but rest assured, I shall keep an eye on him,” promised Bingley.
With his mind resting more comfortably, Darcy said good night. He and Lizzie were to leave very early the next morning. Charles Bingley, satisfied that all would soon be restored to order, also took his rest, having completely forgotten his roadside encounter with Mr. Everfield earlier that week… an encounter with a very experienced rider that bore no suggestion of injury.
*****
Meanwhile, the imposter had not fared as well as the gentry of Meryton. Upon the return to his lodgings, he was met by two disagreeable former business associates… to whom he owed large sums of money.
“Not so easy to hide from us, is it Benny?” snarled a slight man with greasy hair and dirty fingernails as he shook a fist in the direction of Longbourn’s tutor.
“Jimmy! I wasn’t hiding… and keep your voice down! My name is Grayson Everfield here.” The tutor had winced at the use of his real name, albeit nickname. He had gotten accustomed to the sound of his alias and had considered keeping it after his time in Meryton was finished. After all, there was no one to say otherwise… except his London crowd.
“I don’t care what you call yourself so long as you have my money,” the little man snapped and gestured to his companion, a silent ogre of a human who stood of in a shadowy corner of the room.
The giant moved a step forward and raised a meaty fist, but was waved off by his keeper before he could strike.
“I don’t have all of it yet… but soon,” he replied as he subconsciously raised a defensive arm against any intended blow.
Reaching into his waistcoat pocket, the imposter withdrew a thick wad of notes and handed it to the wily toad who stuffed it into his breeches with a sneer that showed cracked and yellowed teeth. “I don’t plan on waiting forever. You have a month to get me the rest or we will be back,” he promised as he rose and snapped his fingers for the silent giant to follow.
Alone, and shaking with fear and relief, the tutor wiped his brow where beads of sweat had formed. He knew all too well what happened to people that had been unable to pay Jimmy Hawkins… they usually wound up floating in the Thames, but not before being beaten slowly to death. It was a fate he did not want to contemplate. Not that he was without guilt, but at least he had dispatched the real Grayson Everfield quickly. In desperate need of a strong drink, but not wanting to be noticed, he waited until he heard the sound of retreating hoof beats leaving the inn before making his own exit. At least it was midafternoon and the place was empty, save for a washerwoman who bent industrially over her work, ignoring the entire world. The walk to ____ton would allow him to think… and to plan. He needed to sell the day’s finds quickly and acquire more before leaving England for good. Catering to the whims of Mary Bennet would be his ticket out. The little fool had no idea who he really was.
~Fifteen~
Two days later, long before the sounds of the estate stirring could be heard, Mary dragged out her father’s telescope and attempted to focus the lenses. Turning the apparatus away from the sunrise, she was able to glimpse an array of stars before the increasing light obscured her view. It simply had to be done at night. Fortunately, Mr. Everfield had sent another note, pleading continued illness. Her reply suggested that they wait until the evening of the following day to continue, with an invitation to supper before stargazing could commence. Now, as she struggled with the awkward tripod that balanced the instrument, she was happy to have the day to herself. After her household duties were complete, she planned to spend the rest of her time examining the remains in the ice house. Atlas had warned that time was running out and they would be forced to bury the body. Unfortunately, an outbreak of influenza had occupied much of his time as well, leaving the unknown man abandoned for the demands of the living.
However, when she reached the oaken door that was set into a small hillside, she found it locked. Retracing her steps to the comfortable house that served as residence and surgery for Meryton’s doctor, she found Atlas busy with a reception room filled with patients. Quickly donning a work apron over her dress, Mary addressed each waiting person and wrote down their complaints. Just as she finished with the last, Atlas poked his head out of the surgery door. His face broke into a smile as he saw Mary and made his apologies to the waiting crowd.
“Unfortunately, it may be some time before I can see all of you. Mr. Jameson’s arm requires considerable attention, but if you don’t mind Miss Bennet’s attentions, I can attest to her abilities,” he announced after receiving Mary’s affirmative nod.
A low murmur rippled through the room and a few of the younger men abruptly rose and left, vocalizing their opinions about being treated by a woman. But everyone else remained, relieved to be seen by someone with Mary Bennet’s reputation for practicality. Smiling to herself, Mary wiped her hands on her apron and led her first patient to the small private room that served for general examinations.
Nearly three hours later, with an empty reception area and a sedated, but stable Andy Jameson, Mary and Atlas dropped exhausted onto the small sofa tucked into one corner of the room that served as a private laboratory. It was here that Atlas preferred to do his forensic studies, not the town ice house, but due to the accelerated decay of the current victim, he had transported much of his equipment there. Now, the somewhat barren room appeared more of a parlor than area of scientific query. However, it did retain a spirit lamp and the makings of tea. Once prepared, Atlas handed Mary a steaming cup and joined her as she propped up her feet on a small bench.
“We made quite a team out there. You have a natural way with people that is not often seen.”
“Well I don’t get much practice at Mama’s garden parties.” Mary laughed and imagined the reaction of Lady Lucas and the rest of Meryton’s biddies if she were to inquire about their bowel habits and bunions.
“I don’t suppose you would consider a partnership of some sorts? My practice is growing to the point that I may require an assistant full time,” he asked cautiously. In reality, Atlas wanted a permanent union with Mary as his wife, but feared her rejection. Perhaps if she felt needed professionally, it would eventually lead to a more personal situation. Even after a year of acquaintance, he was still unsure if Mary Bennet would bolt like a frightened horse at the mention of marriage.
“I am hardly qualified to be a nurse… let alone a doctor.”
“Half of it is simply getting the patient to trust you… the rest is mostly commonsense.”
“It is a tempting offer, but I could not leave Longbourn every day. Papa seems to have aged considerably over the past year. I fear he is fading away… as for Mama…I don’t dare leave the estate in her hands.”
“Well than it is fortunate indeed that I only require someone twice a week, could you manage that?”
The ability to be useful beyond that which was customary for young ladies proved too powerful to resist and Mary agreed. Besides, as much as she hated to admit it, she was growing fond of Atlas. Once the investigation was over, she would have no reason to see him so often. With that thought in mind, she remembered that her original purpose that morning was to assist him with the remains as well as extend her parent’s invitation to dinner that evening.
“Why was the ice house locked?”
Atlas sighed, he was disappointed in himself for not discovering the unknown person’s identity, but there simply was not enough evidence to point to any sort of positive conclusion... and he had run out of time.
“It is locked by order of Sir Philip Evans. He insists upon a final report by the end of the week and immediate internment. Apparently, rumors have started to be told about what is going on down there. You and I have been observed leaving the ice house… it does not bode well for your reputation. Besides, I am out of ideas.”
Mary swallowed the last of her tea and carefully set the cup on its saucer. She had not considered how it would appear for her to spend time with Atlas unchaperoned. Her family still bore the social scars created by Lydia’s disastrous marriage. It was only through the excellent connections provided by Jane and Lizzie’s marriages that the Bennets were able to overcome speculation and ruin. She would not have that happen again. In the future, she would take great pains to maintain propriety.
“Shall I be forced to creep out the back door today? Or, does Mr. Jameson serve as chaperone?” Mary joked half-heartedly in reference to the sedated patient in the next room.
“Perhaps we should give idle tongues something to wag about,” Atlas teased. He actually found the association amusing, but knew full well that while men could survive a scandal, women were not so fortunate. Maybe this was the only way to convince Mary to marry him… although marriage, to prevent ruin was not to his liking. He simply had to make her fall in love with him.
Mary had not taken the bait to his teasing, instead she rose slowly to go as if something was compelling her to stay, but as to what, she could not identify. Although exhausted, she did not want to return to Longbourn. After all, what awaited her there but demands? It was only with Atlas that she felt as if she gave willingly… of her own choosing. Confused, she searched absently for her reticule, only to remember that she had not brought one. Perhaps the brisk few miles to Longbourn was just what she needed to clear her head. Unfortunately, just as she reached for the surgery door to leave, Atlas placed a hand on her arm, halting her exit to place a gentle kiss on her lips.
“Thank you Mary Bennet” he whispered as she slowly pulled free and made her escape.
Not looking back, Mary marched with eyes focused forward, feeling more confused than ever. With only a few short hours until they would meet again across Longbourn’s supper table, she had no idea what to do.
~Sixteen~
Later that evening…
Just before sunset, a freshly attired Dr. Atlas Sutton drove his curricle down the road to Longbourn. He was feeling slightly guilty about kissing Mary that morning, but not enough so to not want to do it again. The feel of her petal soft lips against his made him smile with the memory.
Distracted by his thoughts, Atlas nearly ran down the figure walking alongside the lane. Slowing his horse, he grimaced at the sight of Grayson Everfield shuffling towards the same destination. Atlas had hoped that he was the only guest at Longbourn that evening and was disappointed to find that he would have competition for Mary’s attentions. Not wanting to give in to what he knew was jealousy, he offered the man a lift the rest of the way.
“It appears that we are headed in the same direction.” Atlas offered politely.
The imposter had heard the hoof beats long before the small carriage had stopped. He too had hoped to be the sole guest, but not for the same purpose. More funds were needed to ensure that he would have enough to pay his debts, should Jimmy Hawkins or any of his henchmen decide to return. Having a crowd about would diminish his opportunities. However, practicalities won the moment and he graciously accepted the offer of a ride. Upon arrival, Atlas noted the reason for the additional guest. Kitty Bennet had returned recently from her holiday with some distant relatives. He had not noticed her at the Bingley party. Even numbers were always the rule, even for simple country suppers.
“Good Evening Dr. Sutton… Mr. Everfield. It was so nice of you to come on short notice, but Mary insists upon showing off her father’s telescope. I personally don’t see the fascination, but apparently astronomy is all the rage amongst the young people,” rambled Mrs. Bennet as she practically shoved the gentlemen into the parlor where her daughters awaited their arrival.
“I am sure it will be a great amusement. There is supposed to be a meteor shower for the next few evenings. God’s fireworks so it is said.” Atlas assured her.
Grayson Everfield, in contrast swallowed heavily with this knowledge. While he had received e
xcellent instruction in French and botany from his mother, Astronomy was an absolute blank. He had not had time to even open the borrowed tome on the subject. Hopefully, he could manage to hide his ignorance. Perhaps an alternative entertainment could be arranged. Remembering that Mary harbored a great fondness for the pianoforte, if not talent, he would insist upon hearing her play. Relieved with a plan in hand, he turned his charms on Mrs. Bennet.
“You are looking exceptionally lovely tonight madam, it may be too cold for much stargazing. I should hate to have anyone take a chill… so soon is my own recovery,” he suggested innocently.
Atlas felt the barb of his words. As a doctor, he would have been expected to place the well-being of his friends before his own. Did this man have designs on Mary or Kitty?
“Agreed, but perhaps as it is still quite warm, the evening may prove the same,” he added.
With personal attentions fulfilled, Mrs. Bennet led the procession into the dining room, seating Kitty nearest to the tutor. Despite the enjoyable flattery, she was not a foolish woman when it came to marrying off her daughters. She knew full well that Mary’s only hope was with Meryton’s doctor. As for Kitty, no penniless tutor would catch her eye with any sense of permanence, but she would be amused for the evening. Mr. Bennet, observant of his wife’s machinations only smiled and nodded in agreement. He had kept Atlas’ request for Mary’s hand a secret. It must be Mary’s decision alone. He just hoped it would not take too long.
After a meal consisting of not less than four courses, the company repaired once again to the parlor for coffee. Indeed, the warmth of the day had not abated and Mrs. Bennet ordered the doors to the garden opened. Just outside, Mr. Bennet’s telescope stood pointed at the night sky. Seeing the apparatus poised and ready for use, Everfield made his first attempt at delay.
Mary Bennet and the Longbourn Tutor Page 8