by Jennifer Joy
"I knew as much and Mrs. Burk will regret betraying them, for now they are all suspects. You see, the name of the club is LAMB. Ladies Against Mrs. Bennet."
"Preposterous," Darcy mumbled, shaking his head. Of all the ridiculous notions.
Tanner held up his palm. "Before you resign LAMB as a group of ridiculous ladies, consider how many clubs you society gents have formed over worse foolishness. However, it gives them a motive. Mrs. Burk said it was founded by Lady Lucas herself last year when all of Mrs. Bennet's daughters came out in society. Can you imagine how she must have felt to have not only the eldest Misses Bennets to compete with for the notice of a single gentleman, but the two youngest as well? They are hardly of an age to do so. And there were Mrs. Bennet's remarks about how plain Miss Lucas is. Such comments have been borne since the birth of their offspring, and this was Lady Lucas' way of finding support from other mothers inflicted by Mrs. Bennet."
“What was the purpose of their meetings? To bring harm?” Darcy asked.
“Mrs. Burk said they merely discussed Mrs. Bennet’s wrongs against them, taking comfort in each other’s sufferings.”
Darcy squeezed the back of his neck, resting his head against his hand. "What will Elizabeth think when she finds out? The Lucases are her friends."
"Mrs. Burk made a point of telling me that the subject of their offense was Mrs. Bennet, although there had been occasions when Mr. Bennet, Miss Kitty, and Miss Lydia were discussed. The ladies took great comfort in Miss Mary's spinster ways, and not one of them would say a word against Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth is held in high regard by most of the ladies, though they agree she has a quick tongue."
Most of the other ladies. Darcy was certain his aunt and Bingley’s sisters were the exception. His aunt … Was this why she had not been present at the inn before the parade? After her exchange with Mrs. Bennet the day before, he understood why she would affiliate herself with such a group. She would have done anything to cause Mrs. Bennet harm.
Looking over at Lord Harvisham, Darcy asked, "Do you believe my aunt killed Mrs. Bennet?"
A steely glint hardened the earl’s eyes. "That remains to be seen. If the evidence supports it, justice will be meted out and I will not hinder it. We will keep watch over all members of this club. They are of particular interest and I intend to interview several of them this afternoon."
"Do the other ladies know we are in possession of this information?" Darcy asked Tanner.
"No. I made certain to speak with Mrs. Burk only in the presence of her husband.”
“Is Miss Lucas aware of her mother’s activities?” Darcy asked, thinking of Richard.
“Mrs. Burk seemed confident she is not,” Tanner replied.
"And we will do our best to keep it that way until the hearing. Only if the existence of this ladies’ club holds any bearing on the murder of Mrs. Bennet, will it become public knowledge. The Bennets have enough to endure without adding the loss of long-standing friends to their suffering," Lord Harvisham spoke with finality.
Darcy would take the secret to the grave lest it hurt Elizabeth more. She was under no delusions about the popularity of her mother in the village, but a revelation involving her friends such as this could very well crush her. He must speak with her. Soon.
Chapter 17
Elizabeth endured their company for the comfort they brought her sisters, but by the time everyone had gone and the house fell silent, her frustration stifled her in the shrinking house. The heavy rain had eased to a soft drizzle. The kind that felt good against hot skin.
Grabbing her shawl and tying down her heaviest bonnet, she sought out Mrs. Hill, who attempted to scrub ink from her hands. “Did Father spill ink on his desk again?” Elizabeth asked.
“I am only glad it stained nothing more than the wood and my hands. Where are you off to, Miss Lizzy?”
"I am in need of some fresh air. I shall not be away long."
Mrs. Hill looked out of the nearest window. "Are you certain? You could catch your death of a cold."
"I will be return shortly."
"If you insist, Miss Elizabeth." Mrs. Hill did not look pleased, but what could Elizabeth say? Not even Mother could have kept her indoors after a morning spent in the company of Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. Elizabeth had behaved herself for Jane's sake. However, such temperance had taken its toll, and Elizabeth feared she might say something frightful to one of her family members unless she got out of the house and let the gentle showers soothe her agitated thoughts.
Stepping out to the gravel path, she walked with wide steps toward the fields surrounding Netherfield Park. Not that she sought out the company of a certain gentleman, mind you. No, she convinced herself, it was merely her favorite path because it offered the best views of the lakes surrounding the estate and she could imagine the flowers which would grow come springtime. The promise of better times lured her along the path she had made with her own feet over fields and across overflowing brooks until she reached the highest point. Leaning her head back, rain droplets sprinkled across her face, kissing her cheeks and washing her worries away … if only for a moment.
What she would give for William to ride up at that instant, sweep her off her feet, and carry her away. But it was only a fancy. She had a forlorn father to manage and a hysterical sister who had lost her best friend. Her other sisters, Elizabeth was grateful to notice, grieved in a way she would have participated in under normal circumstances. But circumstances were not normal. She had a murderer to catch. She had a plan (however one planned to catch a murderer. The last time she had involved herself in a murder investigation, she had nearly been the next victim.).
She could rely on no one to help her. William had his aunt and cousin with whom to concern himself, and she would do nothing to add to his burdens. No, Elizabeth would simply have to rely on herself just as she had always done. She would be strong for her family's sake as much for her own.
"Elizabeth," said a deep, velveteen voice she craved to hear so much, its sound startled her.
Lowering her head and opening her eyes, she saw William standing before her.
"I had hoped you would venture out of doors today," he said.
"I do not have a chaperone." He would take offense at that. Best she point it out before he could.
"It is for the best. There is something I must discuss with you in confidence."
Cautiously, she said, "The grove of trees will offer some protection from the rain."
They walked a short distance in silence to a fallen trunk sheltered by a canopy of evergreens and branches.
Whatever it was William wanted to tell her, he was in no hurry to say it.
"I told my family I would not be away long," she said to prompt him. She could not disguise the edge in her voice, though she dearly wished to.
Her heart would betray her to encourage William while her mind knew he would not choose her when it came down to it. Her heart would make her sit a touch closer to him than she ought to, but her mind warned her to keep a safe distance.
When he reached his hand out toward her, her heart wished he would continue until she was wrapped in his embrace. Her mind made her slide away from him on the log and snap at him in frustration.
"Mr. Darcy, if there is something you wish to say, I beg you to say it." How dare he show any sign of tenderness toward her when he must marry Miss de Bourgh!
She made herself look at him, and she saw the hesitation. The flicker of disbelief. Oh, believe it, Mr. Darcy! So help him if he hurt her any more than she already did. She would lash out at him and not feel sorry for it in the least … or rather, not until the next day. Then, she would be very sorry — as she usually was when her mind conspired with her tongue to say exactly what she meant to say in precisely the way she meant to say it.
"First, I must apologize."
Now, how could she stay irate with him at that? That he could utter the words — and perfect words they were — she least expected fueled the flames of her frus
tration.
She bit her tongue, and he continued. "I am not so talented as you are in expressing myself clearly when it is imperative for me to do so."
Blast the man. First, he apologizes and then he compliments her?
Clasping her hands and biting down harder on her tongue, she held herself together.
"Miss Elizabeth, I fear I gave you cause to doubt my regard for you and now I must assure you that it was never my intention to hurt you. My feelings for you remain the same."
Dear Lord, now he gave her hope. Her heart responded like a little puppy wagging its tail at the slightest affection from its master. She raised her hand to her chin to clear off the drool … just in case. Her sensible mind, however, told her not get her hopes up too soon, and so she returned her fingers to their clasped position in her lap and sucked in her cheeks to give her tongue a reprieve.
"I would have told you before, but circumstances have prevented it. My cousin Anne is ill, as you are well aware. Her illness is not understood by modern science. Doctors, in their ignorance, have allowed — even encouraged — people to believe it a punishment from the Devil."
Elizabeth's jaw dropped as she understood his words. "Miss de Bourgh suffers from seizures?"
He nodded, watching her intensely. "My aunt has managed to conceal her affliction these many years by limiting Anne's association and confining her to Rosings. Only her family doctor is aware of her condition."
"Until she came here?" ventured Elizabeth.
"Yes. She suffered an episode at the inn. Mrs. Molly witnessed it." His eyes searched her, asking questions she did not know how to answer. Her own mind flooded with doubts she wished to have dispelled.
On one account, she could allay his fear. "Mrs. Molly spoke with our housekeeper. She did not make mention of Miss de Bourgh's ailment, though she did imply the lady was ill. Her intention was to inform me of your engagement."
Elizabeth's stomach clenched, making it difficult to breathe. Would he deny it?
"Tanner will be happy, as I am, to know he may trust his housekeeper. After Mrs. Bennet's comments, I had reason to doubt her. That Anne should be discovered is my aunt's greatest fear."
Elizabeth went numb. Of course. It explained everything. It explained why Lady Catherine was so insistent William marry his sick cousin. An alliance with him would dispel any rumors which might arise and keep her safe. On the contrary … Elizabeth wanted to lower her head between her knees and moan at the wave of nausea sweeping over her. No wonder William had changed the object of his regard. He was too honorable to act in any other way. Nor could she accept his attention knowing what she did.
Breathing deeply to keep the acid burning her throat from rising, she said, "I understand now. You will do what you must and I think highly of you for it."
The anxious furrow of his brow smoothed, and he smiled brilliantly. "You cannot imagine what a relief it is to hear you say as much. The same morning we met in Meryton, I had been awake for hours writing discreet inquiries to my man of business, as well as a couple trusted physicians regarding my cousin's condition. One point which has helped her conceal her ailment has been its inconstant nature. There have been years she has suffered merely one or two episodes. It is only recently she has worsened. My hope is to discover a trustworthy, knowledgeable doctor for her so that I may be free to court you."
The bile choked Elizabeth so that she coughed. William clearly did not know her if he believed her as selfish as that. "You would court me whilst knowing your own cousin to be in danger? Have you not read the papers recently? If your cousin is found out, the people would accuse her of being a witch. They would kill her!"
His smile turned to a frown. "I take great care to inform myself of current affairs. I take it you refer to the instance in Cambridgeshire?"
"Do you not see the danger to Miss de Bourgh? They accused that woman of witchcraft, dragged her out of her home, and beat her with clubs until they believed her dead. When her kindhearted neighbor took her in, the villagers formed a mob and would have succeed in beating both women to death had they not fled for their lives and begged the authorities to interfere. If your cousin's affliction is found out, the people could just as well accuse her of the same crime and they would kill her."
"That was an isolated incident in a naive parish. The laws against the crime of witchcraft were repealed nearly one hundred years ago."
"And yet it was only recently an entire village rose up against those two women out of fear. They were fortunate to come out alive, but how do you think they will be received when the accusations against them become known? They will travel the whole of England, unable to make a new home because of the prejudices of others against them."
"You would deny yourself happiness for the welfare of my cousin?"
"If it means her life, yes. If it were one of my sisters, I would give my life to protect her. You would do the same."
"Of course, I will do everything in my power to help my cousin. However, I refuse to allow my fate to be dictated by others or by an event which may never happen."
There was a good deal of sense in his words, but she was too upset to pay it much heed. "And Miss de Bourgh? What of her future?"
Now, William appeared as distressed as she felt. "Would you have me base my decisions on what might never occur when she is perfectly content never to marry?"
That would have been good to know before. "She does not wish to marry? She is content to die alone with nobody but her mother to keep her company? I cannot help but think that her health would improve dramatically were she to separate herself from that particular influence." She held her breath. It was one thing for William to speak against his aunt, but it was quite another for her to do so.
"I am inclined to agree with you. Which is why I have sent inquiries to London. I expect to hear word from my man of business any day."
"Oh." That was all she could utter. She did not normally suffer from a loss of words, but what could she say? His explanation seemed reasonable, but until she knew for sure, she did not dare allow herself to hope.
William's jaw pulsated and his eyebrows furrowed. "How can you even be certain I could protect Anne if I were to marry her? It would be for naught."
How she wished she could not understand Lady Catherine's reasoning. It would make this infinitely easier to bear. She could have allowed herself to be convinced. "Miss de Bourgh is already past the prime age to marry and her poor health is well-known. People are already curious to know what inflicts her. If you were to marry her, all rumors would be stifled. After all, why would you marry a sickly cousin if she could not meet up to the obligations and responsibilities of the mistress of a large estate? Nobody doubts your intelligence. If anyone had drawn wrong conclusions about her, they would have to assume they were wrong."
"And what would happen at Pemberley when she took to her rooms and hid from everyone? Do you not see it would be worse for her?"
There were several explanations Elizabeth could think of, but none of which were proper for her to discuss aloud. A miscarriage, for one. It would be a lie, but it would keep Miss de Bourgh out of harm's way.
William looked at her in disbelief, the disappointment evident in his melancholy eyes. "Elizabeth, I had not expected you to support my Aunt Catherine in her madness. I had thought you would be happy. If I mean nothing to you then please tell me now. My feelings toward you strengthen each day. I am left to think you are using this circumstance as an excuse. To me, it is clear what I must do and where my loyalty lies. I choose you. I will always choose you … If you will have me."
She had cried so much in the past two days, she had thought she had no more tears to shed. Clearly, she had been wrong. He chose her. But was he free to make that choice? Could she live with the knowledge that her acceptance of his love would extend the suffering of another? She despaired to ask for more time when she understood her heart and ached to tell him her greatest desire.
She looked away from him, for there was no
possible way she could gain control of her battling emotions when his look pleaded with her to let him love her. It was the look of which she had dreamed — the look any unmarried lady dreamed of being so fortunate to receive — and yet she could not bring herself to accept it. She needed more time. She needed to understand before making forever promises.
"Please, William."
He brightened and reached out to take her hand at her use of his name. Stupid girl! She pulled away, sorry she had made things worse.
"Please," she repeated, "see to Miss de Bourgh first. Her life is more important than my happiness, no matter how it pains me to say it."
She rose to leave as the rainclouds darkened. "I must return home. They will worry if I am away too long." She stepped away, looking over her shoulder. William sat on the fallen tree with his head between his hands. Each step she took away from him was torture. She wanted to snuggle into his embrace in the confidence he was hers to console.
Darcy did not notice how heavily the rain fell until a shiver coursed through him, bringing him to his senses. Had he been foolish to reveal Anne's condition on the day of Mrs. Bennet's burial? What had been meant as an explanation had only complicated matters further. Never in his wildest nightmare would he have imagined Elizabeth to side with Aunt Catherine. Their assumption that he placed his happiness before Anne's life angered him. It was so entirely opposite to the reality. But he could not give false hopes where they were not warranted. He himself ran the risk of disappointment if his inquiries led to a dead end. And yet, both Anne's determination to remain unmarried and the possibility of finding a doctor with a modern view of medicine willing to help her without locking her up in a mental institution fueled his optimism.
All the negative emotions Elizabeth provoked within him were tempered by his admiration for her loyalty. Her loyalty extended beyond her own family to include his. Though he exposed himself to the worst pain, he would not give up on her until all hope was lost. Her heart was worth the struggle of winning. He had never been more certain of anything else in his life. Nor would he ever find her equal should he live a thousand years.