Elizabeth’s jaw tightened. “One thing I have learned, Mrs. Ridgeway, is that men prefer to demonstrate their powers. If you choose to refuse my simple request, it is likely Mr. Stowbridge will use physical force to remove your boots. You will lose both the battle and your dignity.”
“Is that it? Bend to the will of men?” the woman retorted.
“Women have their own powers, Mrs. Ridgeway. Our actions may be small on the scale of politics and law, but we have our ways of influencing the male species. Personally, I choose when to fight and when to bend to a man’s will.”
Mrs. Holbrook broke the tension by declaring, “I be not certain that me poor aching feet will fit back into these boots once I’s take them off, but now is as good a time as any to let me old toes breathe.” The woman bent to unlace the string holding her well-worn half boots on her feet. Automatically, the other women followed. Elizabeth was pleased to see that none of Samuel Darcy’s workers still wore wooden clogs. She knew of landowners who, even in this age of great wealth and growth, did not pay their workers well enough for the women to own a decent pair of shoes. Her gaze purposely fell upon Mrs. Ridgeway, and the housekeeper reluctantly followed Mrs. Holbrook’s example.
The elderly cook laughed. “I’s a hole in me stocking.” She wiggled the toe of her left foot.
The young scullery maid, a girl by the name of Moll, declared, “That be why I wears two pairs of stockings.”
Elizabeth retrieved the box the colonel had employed earlier and passed it among the women. Each dropped her worn footwear into it. As she reached where the housekeeper sat in isolation from the others, she covertly leaned closer to the woman. “First, permit me to say that you have defied me for the last time. Consider this your notice, Ma’am. Your services shall no longer be required at Woodvine. I will have you gone by the first of the month.” Elizabeth watched with satisfaction as the woman’s eyes widened in disbelief and then in anger. “Bite your tongue, Mrs. Ridgeway, or you will find your feet on the road this very evening,” she threatened. When the woman’s lips thinned to a fine line, Elizabeth finished, “Your astonishment on discovering Samuel Darcy’s chamber could have been true surprise, or it could just as easily have been a show to divert suspicion.” With that, Elizabeth set the box on a nearby table. With a light tap on the door, she signaled the return of the magistrate and Mr. Cowan. Stowbridge acknowledged her efforts with a nod of his head, and then he and the Runner assumed possession of the box. As they strode from the room, she closed the door behind her and joined her husband in the hall.
“What is amiss?” Darcy murmured close to her ear. She motioned him away from the others. When they stood in the shadows, Darcy caught her hand. “Tell me,” he encouraged.
Elizabeth growled in frustration. “That woman!” she hissed.
“Mrs. Ridgeway?”
Elizabeth wanted to howl at the moon in anger. Instead, she shook her head in disbelief. “I pray often for Jane’s goodness, but never so much so as times such as these.” She leaned into him, and Darcy encircled her in his embrace. “I have lost my temper and have given Mrs. Ridgeway her notice.”
“Good,” Darcy said dispassionately.
Elizabeth leaned heavily against him. “Yet, I had promised myself that I would rise above the woman’s vituperation. Did I act with hasty indignation?”
Darcy chuckled, “Is your anger pointed toward Mrs. Ridgeway’s obstinacy or toward your inability to convert the woman?”
Elizabeth frowned. She gave Darcy a serious look, but there was a bit of mischief in her eyes. “Why is it, my husband, that you recognize my faults and still offer me your regard?”
“Because you are my life, Elizabeth.” He kissed her forehead. “Mrs. Ridgeway has set herself an impossible task. The woman has aligned herself against the Master and Mistress of Pemberley. Together, we are a formidable pair.”
“Darcy?” Edward broke in with some urgency. “Cowan believes he has discovered a match to the prints.”
Darcy looked from his cousin to Elizabeth. He hesitated, and she recognized that her husband held his own suspicions. “This is the first lead which may prove promising. Come along, my dear. We have a farce to play.”
They joined Cowan and Stowbridge in the library. “Whose shoes fit the impressions in the dust?”
Cowan held the offending items by the heel. “These are the correct size for the prints. They also have a chip in the left heel’s corner. They match the unusual pattern we noted earlier, Mr. Darcy.”
“Are we certain to whom they belong?” Edward asked Elizabeth.
Elizabeth shook her head in the negative. “I suppose we should simply return the box to the room and observe who claims them.”
“Allow me to mark them,” Cowan said as he used his knife to make a small slit in the leather.
The matching boots were not placed on the top of the pile. “Too obvious,” Elizabeth observed. “I do not want anyone to claim she had accidentally chosen the wrong pair.”
“Then let us set our trap.” Darcy hefted the box from the table. “Come, Mrs. Darcy. You must be our eyes once again.”
Returning to the small drawing room, Darcy placed the box on a low table where Elizabeth might observe which woman chose the marked shoes. Then he exited the room. “The gentlemen have completed their tasks. After you have recovered your footwear, Mr. Stowbridge will return.”
Mrs. Holbrook asked suspiciously, “Did Mr. Stowbridge discover anything significant?”
Elizabeth said with a straight face, “If so, I am not privy to the gentleman’s investigation. While the magistrate and Mr. Cowan conducted the search, I spent my time in conference with Mr. Darcy.” She purposely rested her gaze on Mrs. Ridgeway, but the woman kept her eyes on the moonlight streaming through the windows. In the beginning, Elizabeth had thought the woman all that was kind. Then the woman’s caustic tongue had brought about Darcy’s wrath. She had felt some sympathy for Mrs. Ridgeway when the woman had been injured: yet, Elizabeth would readily admit she held no inkling as to what motivated the housekeeper. With a deep sigh, she realized it was best for the estate to withdraw from an impossible situation.
The women rummaged through the box for their possessions. Elizabeth watched anxiously. First one, and then another, and another chose from the items, but still the marked shoe remained. Finally, only two pairs rested on the box’s bottom. Mrs. Ridgeway stood, and for a brief moment, Elizabeth thought she would choose the ones in question; however, the housekeeper selected a similar pair, but not the marked shoe. Only one person remained: the maid known as Els. Somehow, Elizabeth could not believe the young girl wily enough to stage a theft. And if she were, it would make more sense if Els had stolen Samuel Darcy’s rare coins or ancient jewels. Why would the girl steal a map of what may or may not be a witch’s meeting place? Even if the girl actually dabbled in the black arts, assuming the young maid the culprit went against Elizabeth’s logical side. “Does everyone have her own shoes?” she asked in hopes of a mistake. But the maid readily slipped on the offending pair and laced the ties through the loops. Perplexed, Elizabeth opened the door to the waiting magistrate. “Do we have a match?” Stowbridge asked pompously.
Reluctantly, Elizabeth nodded her affirmation. “Els,” she said softly. “But I...”
However, Stowbridge pushed past her, ignoring Elizabeth’s protest. “Which of you is Els?” he demanded. Elizabeth turned to see the girl flinch. “I be Els,” she said through trembling lips.
Stowbridge, evidently prepared finally to put the blame for all the unusual events at Woodvine on someone’s shoulders, scowled at the others. “You will remain, Girl. The rest of you may be about your duties.”
Silently, the Woodvine staff filed past the young maid, and Elizabeth watched in sympathy as the girl’s eyes widened and her face paled. She moved to steady the maid’s composure. “Sit down,” she encouraged as the girl swayed in place. “Fitzwilliam. A bit of sherry,” she ordered.
Immediately, Da
rcy was beside her, glass in hand. He pressed it into the maid’s unsteady grasp. “Drink,” he encouraged as Elizabeth slid her arm about the girl’s shoulders.
“Do not be frightened,” Elizabeth whispered. “No one wishes to hurt you. Just speak the truth, and all shall be well.”
The girl’s eyes rose to meet Elizabeth’s. “Yes, Ma’am. But I be doin’ nothing wrong. I swear on me mother’s grave.”
Stowbridge cleared his throat. “Mrs. Darcy, I suggest you wait in the library.”
Els clutched at Elizabeth’s hand. “Oh, no, Ma’am. Ye kinnae leave me.”
Elizabeth announced, “If Mr. Darcy holds no objections, I prefer to remain.” She knew Stowbridge would not oppose a man of Darcy’s consequence. Her husband’s determinateness and his power seemed to make allies unnecessary.
Darcy said cautiously, “For the moment, I will tolerate your presence, but I would caution you, Mrs. Darcy, to permit Mr. Stowbridge and Mr. Cowan to conduct their investigation without interruption.”
Elizabeth nodded mutely. Her husband rarely used his infamous authoritative tone with her. She had placed him in an awkward position, but Elizabeth could not shake the feeling that if she departed too quickly, poor Els would be on the first ship to Australia.
Edward closed the door to eliminate the possibility of eavesdropping servants. Stowbridge stood before the girl. “We have matched the shoes you wear with prints upon the floor in the late Mr. Darcy’s chamber.”
“I be knowin’ nothing of any chamber until we be enterin’ this room a few hours prior. Mrs. Ridgeway be tellin’ us of the gaping hole in Mr. Darcy’s library, but I’s never seen any sich room,” the girl protested.
Stowbridge stepped closer, and Elizabeth wished he would not lord his position over the girl. “Did you know there was an opening in the garden which leads to Samuel Darcy’s treasure room?”
“I swears, Mr. Stowbridge, Sir, I be knowin’ nothing of any openings or any secret rooms.”
Cowan placed a hand on Stowbridge’s shoulder, and the older man gave way. The former Runner knelt before Els, and Elizabeth appreciated Mr. Cowan’s compassionate approach. “I will ask you specific questions, Els, and I require the truth.”
“Yes, Sir,” the maid said weakly. Elizabeth noted the tremor, which ran through the girl’s body.
“First, I have often observed your comings and goings through the kitchen garden. The opening of which Mr. Stowbridge speaks is nearby. What do you do in the garden? You are not a kitchen maid.”
The girl swallowed hard. “When I have a few minutes to meself, I like to go out in the fresh air. I miss me family and the farm,” her voice quavered.
Cowan continued, “And what of when you go out late in the night? Where do you go then?” The Runner sat on a hammock at the girl’s feet.
As if she were not certain how to answer, Els shot a glance to Elizabeth. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
Cowan encouraged, “You must speak the whole truth if you expect not to be charged with theft from your employer. Now, I will ask you again. Where do you go late at night? To a field by Mr. Rupp’s farm, or to the forest?”
Elizabeth darted a quick glance at the young girl. Had it been Els Elizabeth had espied from her chamber window? The little maid shivered, and Elizabeth tightened her hold about the girl’s shoulders. “No field and no forest,” she declared adamantly. “I swear, Mr. Cowan. I go...I go to meet Toby...Toby Ritter from Mr. Skeet’s farm. He be my friend since we be children in Crampmoor. We be happy to find one ’nother in Wimborne. We sits, and we talks about friends and home.”
“So you have midnight assignations with this Toby character?” Stowbridge accused.
“Oh, no, Sir,” the girl pleaded. “I be a good girl. I jist be so sick fer home, and Toby be too. We keep each other company, and it don’t seem so bad the next day. That be all we do. Jist sit and talk and dream of home.”
Elizabeth declared, “I believe her.”
“I appreciate your confidence in the young lady, Mrs. Darcy, but I think it best that Mr. Cowan and I continue our questioning at the gaol.”
“Fitzwilliam, you cannot permit them to take Els away,” Elizabeth pleaded.
Darcy reached for her, and Elizabeth reluctantly joined him. “It is best if we permit the gentlemen to execute their duties,” he said solemnly.
“But Fitz...” Elizabeth began; however, one of Darcy’s scowls stifled her protest.
Cowan assisted the maid to her feet. “I will protect Els, Mrs. Darcy,” he said softly. “You have my word on it.”
Chapter 14
The colonel said, “I believe I will accompany the magistrate. This may be one of those times when being an earl’s son proves beneficial.” Before he departed, Edward suggested, “It would be advisable if Mrs. Darcy conducted another search of the maid’s quarters.”
Darcy nodded his agreement as his cousin slipped from the room. Edward judiciously closed the door behind him. Darcy still held his wife’s hand, but Elizabeth refused to look at him. Darcy said softly, “Perhaps it would be best if you retired, my dear.”
“I would prefer to follow the colonel’s suggestion, if you hold no objections,” Elizabeth said obediently. His wife shifted her weight uneasily.
Darcy recognized how assuming a subordinate attitude would rub hard against Elizabeth’s normally exuberant disposition. He certainly did not enjoy exerting his will over her, but Darcy could not permit Elizabeth to place herself in the middle of a neverending mystery. It was too dangerous. There were too many unknowns. “Would you accept my assistance?”
Her eyes finally met his, and for once, Darcy could not read her thoughts, and that set his nerves on edge. “It would be best if I completed the task alone, and you oversaw the gentlemen from the Society,” she said without emotion.
Darcy’s mouth thinned as he chose his words carefully. “Elizabeth, I treasure your empathy for others—it is a quality which convinced me you would do well as Georgiana’s sister—but I will not permit you to become the maid’s advocate. None of us,” and Darcy stressed the words, “know the depth of deception being practiced in this house.”
Elizabeth nodded and turned her head away. “I know you mean well, Fitzwilliam,” she said wearily.
“But...”
“But I am not a child.” His wife lifted her chin in familiar defiance. It was his fault, this unusual gulf between them. Even when he held doubts of ever earning her love, he had not experienced the feeling of distance that he knew at this moment. Darcy had acted as a gentleman, so why did he feel so deeply disappointed in his performance? “If you will excuse me, I shall see to my duties.” With that, his wife was gone. Darcy suspected he had not heard the end of the argument. Even Elizabeth’s silence spoke volumes.
Well over three hours later, he entered her bedchamber to find his wife curled in a tight ball in the bed’s middle. It had taken him some two hours to convince the Society members that they need not catalog all of Samuel’s treasures in one sitting. To allay their concerns, Darcy had made a grand display of securing both entrances to the hidden chamber.
His cousin had returned from the village and had added his voice to Darcy’s assurances that all would be well. Edward had reasoned, “The culprit has been apprehended. Besides, the girl made no effort to remove the late Mr. Darcy’s archaeological finds.”
Later, when Sedgelock had led Chetley and Franklyn away, the colonel explained how he had convinced Mr. Stowbridge to hold the maid under lock and key in the magistrate’s root cellar rather than placing Els in the village gaol. “I saw no sense in tormenting the girl with more threats. I will speak to Mr. Ritter in the morning to confirm the maid’s story.” A long silence followed. Finally, his cousin asked, “Did you apologize to Mrs. Darcy?”
Darcy reacted immediately, “Why would I apologize? I did nothing to merit censure.” He ignored the little voice which said, but you accepted fault.
Edward’s lips turned up with amusement. “Will y
our bed be warmer if you claim righteousness, Cousin?”
Darcy felt the nuisance of the colonel’s taunt. “I have never understood why a man must apologize to placate a woman’s whims.”
Edward stretched out his legs before him. “Consider it, Darcy. If you apologize in private to Mrs. Darcy, you lose no face among the Woodvine staff, and your wife will accept your offer of vulnerability as a balm to her romantic heart. Everything will return to normal. You will once again be the man of Mrs. Darcy’s dreams. However, if you do not apologize...” Edward grimaced, and Darcy found himself wanting to know what he would face if he refused; yet, his cousin left the consequences to Darcy’s imagination.
Darcy forced a casual laugh. “I would be a poisson d’avril to take marital advice from a confirmed bachelor.” He did not wait for a response; instead, Darcy purposely changed the subject. “Please explain why you suggested that Mrs. Darcy reexamine the maid’s quarters.”
Edward prepared to stand. “Simple. When Mrs. Darcy and I searched for the boots to match the imprints, we also took the liberty of seeking out the missing map. We had thought the map the stronger proof. It would be possible for both the maid’s and another person’s boots to have similar imperfections, especially if the boots came from the same cobbler; however, only one map exists.”
“I assume you discovered nothing unusual, or you and Mrs. Darcy would have mentioned it previously,” Darcy remarked.
Edward said without artifice, “I suspect that knowledge was the basis of Mrs. Darcy’s allegiance to the maid.”
Darcy felt doubly wretched. “Then why instruct my wife to execute a second search?”
His cousin looked on in earnest sympathy. “First, it provided Mrs. Darcy with a diverting task. Your wife’s objections could be proven legitimate if she recovered a map where one had not been previously.”
“I see,” Darcy said warily. “You would play Mrs. Darcy’s hero?”
The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy Page 20