The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy

by Regina Jeffers

  They neared the bottom of the narrow stairs before Elizabeth jerked hard on his arm to halt Darcy’s steps. Her fingers curled tightly about his sleeve. The others slammed into one another, and candlelight twisted and turned with their efforts to keep their balances. “What distraction holds your attention, Mrs. Darcy?” Darcy asked brusquely.

  “Look, Fitzwilliam!” she said as she pointed to the dust-covered landing. “Someone else has been within.”

  Darcy’s gaze followed the line of her arm. His stomach rolled with trepidation as his eyes fell on the outline of what appeared to be a woman’s boot in the patina of dust covering everything in the room. “No one move!” he snapped as he bent to examine the numerous imprints. He lifted the brace higher.

  “What have you discovered, Darcy?” Edward asked inquisitively.

  Darcy ran his finger along a line to remove the dust. Deep in thought, he said, “When Mrs. Darcy and I discovered this room several evenings prior, every display case, as well as the floor, was covered in dust.” He stood and showed the others the gray film covering his index finger. “We commented on how we were the only ones to have entered the room in some time because only our footprints covered the floor.” The others surreptitiously noted the imprints left behind by the Darcys. “Now there is a third set of prints visible in the dust.”

  “But how?” Cowan asked suspiciously. “No one else knew of the secret lever.”

  Darcy corrected, “That was what we assumed because there were no other displayed prints when Mrs. Darcy and I were present previously.”

  Edward grumbled, “There is nothing easy about this mystery. I have never seen so many false clues.”

  Elizabeth shifted her weight where she might examine the prints. “It appears whoever else has been below ascended the steps but did not descend them.” She pointed to where a distinctive footprint could be seen on the left hand side of the steps.

  Cowan also knelt to examine the marks. “It is difficult to tell,” he mused. “We have tracked the right hand side in our descent. Unknowingly, we could have destroyed the evidence.”

  Darcy concentrated on the multiple prints. “That may be true for the upper steps where Mr. Chetley waits, but not so on the lower steps where Mrs. Darcy stands. Without rotating or moving your feet, I would ask each of you to search for a similar shape to those to which Mrs. Darcy has indicated as distinct from her own. Notice my wife’s print is significantly smaller than the fresher ones.”

  Cowan strained to see those prints closest to where he crouched. “There is a slight notch in the left heel of each of these new prints. As if the sole had taken on a small stone or had been cut on a sharp surface.” The man’s keen investigative skills never ceased to amaze Darcy.

  Each member of the party craned his neck and bent in awkward positions to search the planks of wood upon which he stood; yet, none found any evidence to contradict what they had previously noted.

  Darcy summarized, “Someone has been below, but he or she did not enter from the library. That means there is another entrance into Samuel’s treasure room. Please step carefully. I would prefer to preserve several of these prints as evidence. I hope when we are within, there will be distinct markings indicating the other entrance.”

  Cowan noted, “We require lanterns rather than candles.” The Runner instructed, “Chetley, please ask one of Tregonwell’s men to retrieve several closed lanterns. No one else should move until we have more light.”

  Chetley, who brought up the rear and who rested on the top step, did not take offense. Instead, the archaeologist said, “I will retrieve them myself. Everyone stay put. I will return momentarily.”

  Franklyn asked anxiously, “Mr. Darcy, can you tell whether anything is missing?”

  “I fear we must simply wait for Mr. Chetley’s return. A single brace would do little to cut the darkness enveloping the interior room.”

  Silence fell over the group. It was several minutes before Mr. Chetley reappeared, but when he did he had managed to find three lanterns. He passed them forward to Darcy, the colonel, and Mr. Cowan. “Mrs. Holbrook says there are two more in the stables if we require them.”

  Darcy cautioned, “Again, take care with the placement of your steps. Once we have a better idea of what we have discovered, we may move about more freely.” He steadied his wife’s dismount from the last two steps, and then Darcy lifted the lantern high to illuminate the area.

  Behind him, Elizabeth cupped her candle’s flame with her hand. Darcy could feel her nervousness along his backside. His wife held her breath, but she did not turn her steps. Most women of his acquaintance would be in fits of vapors, but not his Elizabeth. She held an invincible spirit. Since Aunt Catherine’s censorious disapproval of his proposal, Darcy had often considered how much he wished Her Ladyship had permitted Elizabeth her due. Despite Lady Catherine’s societal prejudices, Darcy had always admired the woman’s ability to survive in a man’s world. Although neither woman would admit it, he had noted bits of his aunt’s personality in Elizabeth.

  “Easy,” Cowan cautioned from somewhere behind him. “Do not rush.”

  Darcy stepped into the interior room. Although it had been but a matter of days since he had last ventured into Cousin Samuel’s private treasure trove, the room possessed a different feel, as if it held something more sinister.

  Elizabeth trailed close behind him. His wife’s hand occasionally tugged at his coat. She steadied her stance, as well as sought his closeness, and Darcy experienced a rush of protectiveness again.

  Edward’s lantern flashed with light as his cousin shouldered his way into the room. “Much smaller than I expected,” he muttered.

  “Direct your lantern toward the far corner,” Darcy instructed.

  Edward lifted the lamp high to illuminate the area. “Nothing evident,” Edward observed. “If there are prints, they rest along the aisle between the wooden cases.”

  Darcy sighed heavily, his countenance grim. “There are sconces with candles along the wall. Perhaps you could see to them, Colonel.”

  Edward turned to his right and gingerly stepped about the nearest display case. He retrieved a candle stub from his inside pocket. Setting the lantern on the nearest case, he lit the small piece of wax and used it to light several of the wall ornaments.

  Cowan followed suit on the left-hand side of the room. The chamber would never know the light of day; therefore, the late Mr. Darcy had placed numerous sconces at different levels to illuminate the room. “Whoever entered without your knowledge, Darcy, did not tarry,” the Runner declared. “The footprints do not stray from the center aisle. He lifted his lantern high before motioning to the archaeologists to wait by the open threshold. “Let us trace the intruder’s footsteps prior to our examining the cases. I am keen to locate the other entrance.”

  “The prints come this way from the upper left corner,” Elizabeth observed. With her notice, it was easy for each of the men to see where the stranger’s impressions hugged the side of the display cases. “One can see where the woman’s dress trailed along behind her. Notice the swish of a curve across the heel print.”

  “Excellent eyes, Mrs. Darcy,” Cowan said distractedly.

  Darcy directed his words to the three scientists. “Enter carefully, Gentlemen, and permit Mr. Cowan his evidence. Join the colonel on the right if you will.” The men followed his suggestion, and Darcy breathed a bit easier. Edward would rein in the archaeologists’ enthusiasm for Samuel Darcy’s many treasures. Darcy returned his attention to the Runner. “Do you require my assistance, Cowan?” he asked as he watched the man run his fingers over a section of wooden planks.

  “Describe the lever you found in the library,” Cowan said through gritted teeth as he tugged on each of the planks. “It is likely the late Mr. Darcy used a similar mechanism in this section of the room.”

  Darcy had not moved since entering the room. He and Elizabeth stood in the chamber’s main aisle. They turned to the others, but neither he nor his w
ife had stepped into the display aisles. “The lever felt similar to a nail used by a farrier. Flatter than those used for wooden tables and flooring. Thicker head. Cut into the side of the wall with the lever inset.”

  Cowan continued systematically to check every inch of the wall. “How large of an opening?”

  “Maybe two inches,” Darcy confirmed. “The length of the first two knuckles of a person’s index finger.”

  Cowan chuckled. “An interesting observation, Mr. Darcy.” The man never removed his eyes from the section of wood planks which his fingers searched. He looked for imperfections and darkened indentations.

  “Search lower,” Elizabeth suggested.

  The Runner straightened, but his hands remained flattened to the rough surface. “Explain, Mrs. Darcy,” he instructed.

  Elizabeth stammered, “By...by analogy, the device in the library is in the top corner of the highest shelf. This room is below the ground floor of the main house. Why should it not, therefore, have the lever near the skirting board?”

  Cowan shrugged his shoulders in a “Why not?” gesture. He marked his place on the wooden slats with a small piece of chalk he had removed from a purse in his inside pocket. Then he bent low to examine the area below the wainscoting. On his knees, Cowan’s fingers traced the baseboard. “Could you set your lantern on the floor, Mr. Darcy?” he asked in that tone Darcy now recognized as the man’s being engrossed in his own thoughts.

  Darcy was glad to have the excuse to move freely about the enclosure, but he was cognizant of his own cautions. He elongated his stride to step over the telltale trail of feminine footprints. Edging carefully about the corner of one of the storage cases, Darcy knelt beside the Runner and tilted the lantern to where it might shed light on the area.

  “I may have something,” Cowan said with a grunt. “What do you think?” The Runner indicated a recessed area directly below the seam of a corner where two walls met.

  Aware of his clothing and of how Mr. Sheffield would react to yet another set of stained breeches, Darcy placed one knee on the floor and followed Cowan’s lead. His fingers searched the indentation. Then he felt it. As his fingers grazed the metal bar, he said with true reverence, “Mrs. Darcy, you remain the most unrivaled woman of my acquaintance.”

  Elizabeth giggled with delight. “I was correct?”

  “It appears so, my dear.” Darcy adjusted his stance. He leaned an open palm against the wall and lifted up on the flat metal. Immediately, the wall groaned and separated along the corner. The wooden wall swiveled away from where Darcy knelt, and he and Cowan stood slowly. Through the small crack in the darkness, the muffled sounds of night could be heard at a distance. The chirp of insects. The hoot of an owl. Darcy lifted his lantern higher as Cowan reached for the light he had left on the cases.

  “What do you see, Darcy?” Edward called. He could tell from his cousin’s voice that the colonel had moved closer.

  Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “Steps. Ones made of bricks.” He glanced to Cowan and asked the unspoken question. The Runner nodded his agreement, and together, they caught the partially opened crack in the wall with their free hands and pulled. The wall revolved, and the opening gaped before them. He said over his shoulder, “Cowan and I will return in a moment. Colonel, I charge you to protect Mrs. Darcy.” He did not expect trouble, but he would anticipate it nonetheless.

  “Be careful, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth whispered from behind him.

  He did not turn around, but a lift of his shoulders spoke the words of affection, which he could not say before the others. Instead, he spoke to the Runner, “As you have more experience than I in these matters, perhaps you should take the lead, Cowan.”

  The Runner set his lantern inside the space, but he did not retrieve it as he shouldered his way through the opening. Darcy followed suit, but he carried his light to the steps before he set it upon the ground. As he had come closer, he could see that the steps numbered but ten. Cautiously, he edged his way upward along the damp stairs. The passage was narrow, but solidly built. He would have expected nothing less of Samuel Darcy. His cousin Samuel was a man who tended to details.

  “Give me your assistance, Darcy,” Cowan said as he put his shoulder to a solid wall.

  Darcy retreated a few steps to catch up the lantern. “Is there another lever?” he asked as he slid into place beside the Runner.

  Cowan shook his head in the negative. “It does not appear so,” he said abstractedly. His fingers searched the surface.

  “There must be some sort of lock,” Darcy insisted. He joined the Runner in seeking the slab’s truth.

  Edward called from the lower chamber, “The opening in Pater’s wine cellar slides to the left. Perhaps this is similar. Lodge your fingers in the groove and give it a tug.” Neither the colonel’s curiosity nor his advice surprised either Darcy or Cowan. Instead, they followed his cousin’s instructions. They found a slight indentation, and, using their fingertips, they whisked the hidden door from its place. On an unseen set of hinges, the once-immovable slab disappeared in a precut recess.

  “Never seen anything like it,” Cowan grumbled as he scrambled to his feet.

  Darcy agreed, but he did not vocalize his wonder. “Let us discover where this passage leads.”

  Cowan took the last few steps into the open. “Just as I suspected,” he said to the night. The Runner glanced to the darkened canvas. He said philosophically, “The night has rolled up its sleeves, but it has left its guard down nonetheless.”

  Darcy stood beside the man. They both straightened their shoulders after emerging from the low-ceilinged passage. “Mrs. Darcy will be beside herself with glee,” he observed. “She has expertly forecasted our destination by reading my cousin’s journals.”

  “Beyond the wall is the kitchen garden,” Cowan noted. “To the right,” he gestured, “is the sundial and the columns leading to the arbor.”

  Darcy stared into the blackness. Nothing moved. The night appeared calm and inviting, but he suspected that it held a great evil. He asked, “Could my cousin have left the door ajar on the evening he found the map?”

  Cowan glanced about the area. “The opening could easily be concealed. Unless one was searching for it, a person would likely overlook the disguise.”

  Darcy, too, studied the area. “Then we cannot be certain whether our intruder meant to enter the passage or simply stumbled upon it by accident.”

  “Either way,” the Runner noted, “the unknown woman has entered without permission. Perhaps it is best if we discover whether anything is missing.” Cowan hesitated before adding, “We should have one of the men guard this entrance. Perhaps we should ask Captain Tregonwell to recommend one or two more.”

  Darcy roused himself from his own musings. “I will send Mr. Holbrook to Bournemouth in the morning.” He glanced toward the opening. “We should return to where the others wait.”

  Cowan looked off to the lower garden. “If you can handle the door alone, Sir, I believe I will have a closer look around. I like being outside on a clear night.”

  “Now that I understand the how of it, I suspect I can manage. I will ask Mr. Poore to organize the men to secure the opening.”

  Cowan smiled easily. “I will wait close by until one of Tregonwell’s men arrives.” He said teasingly, “I might even try to operate the door from this side.”

  Darcy’s gaze returned to the opening. “I suspect if a woman can manage the door’s weight, neither of us will suffer unduly.” He shook the Runner’s hand. “Be safe.”

  Cowan stood silent for a moment. Finally, he said, “When the colonel and I were in Corunna...when we fought our way across Spain, your cousin often spoke of your close kinship, and I found myself wishing for the acquaintance.” An awkward pause occurred. “I suppose the colonel has spoken of my irreverent disregard of most officers.”

  Darcy’s slight smile of remembrance served as his response.

  Cowan chuckled, “I thought as much.” The man’s lips twitched
in mild disapproval. “I always respected the colonel, the captain then, because he spoke the truth. Yet, when he spoke of your friendship, I thought in that matter Captain Fitzwilliam had added appropriate embellishments. I am pleased to be found in error.”

  “I owe you a debt of honor, Cowan, but even if it were not so, I would be proud to have your acquaintance,” Darcy said honestly. They separated with a new understanding.

  Darcy slipped through the opening and slid the door into place. He had noted that on the outside, the opening appeared to be part of the wall separating the formal garden from the vegetable patch outside the kitchen’s door. Only servants would use this part of the garden. Whoever had entered Samuel’s hidden room was likely one of the Woodvine staff. The realization only added to his dread. He had suspected that the key to solving this mystery resided under Woodvine’s roof. Now, he had proof of it.

  Reentering Samuel’s hidden room, he lifted both lanterns to set them upon the storage boxes. “Where is Cowan?” Edward asked.

  “Mr. Cowan thought it best if he stood guard outside until one of Tregonwell’s men assumes the duty.” Darcy worked his way to Elizabeth’s side.

  Edward said, “Then I will send one of Tregonwell’s former recruits to relieve Mr. Cowan.” Darcy watched as his cousin cautiously made his exit toward the library and the waiting guards.

  “What did you discover, Mr. Darcy?” Franklyn asked.

  Darcy stood with his hands clasped behind him. “It is as Mrs. Darcy has indicated. The opening is at the rear of the garden. Near the columns and sundial.”

  Elizabeth said in a quiet voice, “Thank you, Fitzwilliam.” Her eyes sparkled, and Darcy understood his wife’s quiet pleasure at having been of service. Men, as a general rule, did not appreciate an intelligent woman, but he did, and Darcy would readily recognize Elizabeth’s mindful insights with honest benevolence.