by Jennifer Joy
Darcy felt Mr. Tanner's gaze boring into him, but he did not care. He would not allow Miss Elizabeth to come to any harm if he could prevent it.
She loosened her clutched fingers, and her shoulders relaxed. However, she said nothing in the way of a reassurance.
With a chuckle, Mr. Tanner said, "If you gentlemen think you can get Miss Elizabeth to stop doing what she has set her mind to do, then you have sorely mistaken her character."
Despite himself, Darcy smiled. It was true. He ought to have known better, but even knowing how his plea would be received would not stop him from insisting.
"Be that so, and I have no doubt but that it is, Mr. Tanner, I know I speak for myself, if not for everyone present in this room, when I say I do not wish for her to come to any harm."
Heads nodded— all except Miss Elizabeth's, that is.
She inhaled deeply, letting her breath out with a swoosh. "Very well, I thank you all for your concern and shall strive not to do or say anything to bring on any more attacks." She looked around the room, her eyes settling on him.
Darcy shook his head and smiled. She had made no promise, nor would she. He knew her too well. She would be more discreet than she had been before, but nothing could prevent her from involving herself. Her eyes smiled back at him in acknowledgment of their shared understanding.
"Miss Elizabeth, you have made it clear from the beginning you believed Mr. Darcy innocent of Lieutenant Wickham's murder. Why?" asked Mr. Tanner.
Only then did she look away from Darcy. He shivered when her warm gaze departed from him.
"I simply know he is not the sort of gentleman to resort to such a drastic action," she shrugged her shoulders as if her words were of little import.
Mr. Tanner leaned forward. "You are known through all of Meryton for being an excellent judge of character. What was it that led you to dismiss Mr. Darcy so decidedly from having committed the crime?"
She bowed her head. "I once believed myself to be an excellent judge of character. Perhaps you will believe my intuition is correct when I tell you my first impression of Mr. Darcy. It was not a favorable one.” Looking up, she smiled impishly. “The truth is I did not like him at all."
Darcy ground his teeth and pressed his lips together to keep from laughing at the shocked silence surrounding them. Measuring eyes searched him for a reaction, but it was finally Mr. Tanner who broke the silence.
With a loud guffaw which startled Darcy, leaving him unsettled, Mr. Tanner said, “I have always known you to speak the truth, but I never expected to hear you say it so plainly where he could not help but hear you.”
She looked at Darcy, her pupils sparkling with mischief and merriment. “Why should I hide my opinion of the gentleman— especially when he insulted me to my face on our first meeting?”
Darcy cringed. He had made no secret of his opinion of her at the Meryton Assembly. Overly fatigued and annoyed, he had insulted Miss Elizabeth’s vanity so that she could not help but overhear him. He had thought his behavior justified at the time, but he had come to learn how kindness could never be too heavily bestowed.
Her eyes darkened and settled into a calm somberness. “I will also be the first to admit how completely my opinion of Mr. Darcy has changed.” She paused, breaking their silent exchange to look at Mr. Tanner. “Mr. Darcy is as honorable as you are, Mr. Tanner. In fact, now that I think of it, you both share similar virtues.”
Darcy sat back. What could he possibly have in common with Mr. Tanner— a man who had taken such an instant dislike to him and who still seemed determined to find fault with him?
Mr. Tanner’s grin disappeared so quickly, Darcy doubted he had ever heard his laughter. Except he had sounded so alike someone… someone he had not heard these many years. Darcy examined his face until their eyes met, and Mr. Tanner glared at him. Evidently, he did not appreciate the comparison either.
Colonel Forster cleared his throat, commanding their attention. “This is most unfortunate. Not for you, of course, Mr. Darcy,” he added quickly, “but for the fact that it appears we no longer have a principal suspect for the crime of Mr. Wickham’s murder. Mind you, I did not believe it to be you from the beginning. A gentleman would hardly mix in like company with an officer such as Lieutenant Wickham.” He bunched his cheeks in a scowl.
It struck Darcy that he had never considered what Colonel Forster thought of Wickham. He had been so new to the regiment, Darcy had assumed Wickham would do as he always had done— win everyone over with his charm until he was found out. Only, Colonel Forster did not speak of Wickham as one to be admired. Darcy admired his intuition at judging his nemesis’ character more accurately than most.
“Will you continue to offer Mr. Darcy shelter? He is still under suspicion,” said Mr. Stallard.
Colonel Forster answered without hesitation. “So long as he is in need of it, he is welcome to stay here. He made it clear to me when he accepted my offer that he did so more in an interest to protect his friends at Netherfield Park than for his own benefit. He has been a considerate guest and may stay as long as he pleases.”
Darcy nodded his thanks to the colonel.
Mr. Stallard continued, “That is considerate of you, Colonel, as well as of you, Mr. Darcy. I should like to extend my hospitality to Miss Elizabeth. My daughter, I should think, would be more suitable company for her than Mr. Darcy.”
Over his dead body! Until Darcy cleared Mr. Stallard of all wrongdoing, he would not trust him to protect Miss Elizabeth.
Before he could voice his concerns, she spoke. “I thank you for your kind offer, and I have no doubt but that I would enjoy the company of Miss Stallard as much as she would enjoy mine. However, my family knows I am here and they will come to visit me soon. I suspect they will not delay in calling, and it would distress them greatly to find I am not here when this is where they expect me— especially after the events of last night.”
“Of course. However, I can easily arrange for my carriage to transport you and anything you require to my estate after their call. You would have sufficient time to inform them.”
Darcy spoke the first thought to come to mind. “There is no need. Now that sufficient doubt has been cast on my perceived guilt, I think it only right for me to be the one to leave. Miss Elizabeth has been through enough in the past few hours, and I intend to cause her no further trouble. I will stay at Mr. Tanner’s inn.”
He had to swallow down the chuckle that almost escaped him at the shocked look on Mr. Tanner’s face. “Do you have a room you can spare for me?”
When he recovered, Mr. Tanner nodded. “Aye.”
“Then it is settled. I will have my things removed to the inn, and Miss Elizabeth may continue here undisturbed.” He addressed her. “Does that suit you?”
He read the relief in her eyes as clearly as a voiced reassurance.
Colonel Forster cleared his throat. “Excellent plan. Now, that brings us back around to our more urgent matter. Who killed Lieutenant Wickham?”
Darcy had some questions for Mr. Stallard and there was no time like the present.
Chapter 28
“Where were you the night of Mr. Wickham’s murder?” Mr. Darcy asked, his dark eyes settled firmly on the magistrate.
Elizabeth held her breath. Mr. Stallard would not take kindly to the implication behind Mr. Darcy’s question.
Puffing out his chest, Mr. Stallard replied, “Unlike you, Mr. Darcy, everyone knows where I was. I returned home with my daughter when her dress was ruined. I did not leave my estate until Mr. Tanner came for me after Mr. Wickham had been murdered in his barracks.”
Mr. Tanner fixed his eyes on his hands, his neck turned in such a way that his ear would not lose one word. As the village constable, he answered to Mr. Stallard. However, as a man with a reputation for strongly held values and honesty, he would seek the truth… no matter who was involved.
Elizabeth watched the men, her eyes darting back and forth between them so as not to miss a twitch.
>
Colonel Forster stood between them like a parent standing between quarreling children. He watched them every bit as closely as she did.
Mr. Darcy added, “My intention is not to offend you, Mr. Stallard. After all, I, too, am a gentleman and have been wrongly accused. My purpose is merely to state the facts before these witnesses so that we may have the assurance our peers, at least, are free of guilt.”
Somewhat appeased, but not entirely convinced, Mr. Stallard said, “Very well. I will answer your questions if you will tell us, once and for all, where you were at the hour of Mr. Wickham’s murder.” He sneered, and Elizabeth clenched her hands together and bit her tongue to keep from replying in like manner. An answer from her would only draw suspicion. Besides, Mr. Darcy did not need her help. Mr. Stallard did not know Mr. Darcy very well if he thought he had laid a trap.
“I did not leave Netherfield Park,” Mr. Darcy replied, his eyes and voice level.
“Nobody recalls seeing you,” challenged Mr. Stallard.
“I will not bother to deny it. It is true nobody has testified to my whereabouts. However, while it hurts my pride to have my presence unnoticed at a crowded ball, it does not change its veracity.” He lowered his chin and his voice. “It is not my custom to be intimidated by circumstances, no matter how unfavorable. I would no sooner speak a lie than bend to the will of others.” His piercing gaze made Mr. Stallard squirm in his chair.
Elizabeth had to think to close her mouth.
Mr. Stallard’s eyes narrowed, and his nostrils widened as he huffed his disapproval from his uncomfortable chair. Mr. Darcy, on the other hand, sat as calm as a man at his leisure. Elizabeth admired his control. She could never accomplish such a superior level of composure.
“I believe it,” said Mr. Tanner in a growl which made apparent how badly he wished not to utter the words. “I have made my opinion of Mr. Darcy clear from the beginning, but even I will admit he has not acted or spoken in deceit.”
Only then did Mr. Darcy look away from Mr. Stallard, his eyes widening at Mr. Tanner.
“Besides,” Mr. Tanner added in a lighter tone, “with the message written on the brick sent through Miss Elizabeth’s window, my suspicions lie elsewhere.”
Colonel Forster, as quick as a whip, asked, “Who?”
Mr. Tanner looked at his hands again, his chin working from side to side. Finally, he pressed his fingers together and looked from person to person about the room. Elizabeth held her breath so long, she had to gasp for air.
“I do not believe this is merely a simple murder we are trying to solve. There are too many pieces which do not fit. There are too many people involved. Too many people with too many blasted secrets.”
“Too many people involved? What do you mean, Mr. Tanner? As far as I can discern, it was a simple case of revenge against a young man who had too many enemies.” Colonel Forster folded his arms and shook his head gravely, continuing, “I would never minimize the value of Lieutenant Wickham’s life, but the world will not suffer from the loss of it.”
His words filled Elizabeth with melancholy, and she dared not look at Mr. Darcy, though she struggled against the impulse to do just that. She could think of one person who would mourn his loss, even though he had attempted to bring her to ruin. The heart of an innocent maiden in love with a scoundrel was more traitorous than the murderer who ultimately took Mr. Wickham’s life. Elizabeth ached for Miss Darcy, just as she knew Mr. Darcy did.
Mr. Tanner offered no argument. “Be that so, I sense there is more at stake than one murder.” He looked intently at Mr. Stallard, who had only just recovered his complexion.
“If you would speak more clearly, perhaps we might be of assistance. We are, after all, working together to find out who is responsible,” suggested the colonel.
Mr. Tanner pursed his lips, his attention captured by Mr. Stallard still. “I will ask one question. What do we know of Mrs. Yeats?”
Elizabeth gasped. What did Mrs. Yeats have to do with anything?
“I never met her before she arrived in Meryton,” offered Mr. Stallard quickly.
“Nor I,” added the colonel.
Mr. Darcy shook his head. “I could not identify her were she to walk into this room. I must have met her at Longbourn, but I do not recall having seen her face.”
All heads turned to Elizabeth. She rose her chin in defense of the lady, but stopped before she uttered a word when she realized how little she really knew of Mrs. Yeats. Where had she come from? Aunt Philips had mentioned a tragic story tracing her origins and employ, but Elizabeth could not recall anything specific which could recommend her.
“I am afraid I know very little about her. However, I expect we will see her when my family calls during the day. Perhaps we can find out more then?”
Details— things so small she had not noticed them before loomed before her. Lydia’s strange illness and even stranger quick recovery. Mrs. Yeats’ disappearance whenever they had callers. Her tendency to stand with her back to windows and behind doors. Her watchfulness. Elizabeth’s pulse raced as it struck her. “You do not think the message was meant for her, do you?”
She stared at Mr. Tanner, her heart pounding in her throat. What if the murderess lived with her family? Clutching her stomach, she breathed deeply to abate the acid rising in her throat.
“I do think the message was meant for her, though I have reason to believe her innocent of that particular crime,” he said, his vision flickering over to Mr. Stallard once again. Crossing his thick arms, he leaned back against his chair. “I question her motive in coming here.”
Darcy watched Mr. Stallard, but every other sense in his possession focused on Miss Elizabeth. Her breath came in muffled bursts. How he wished he would have paid more attention to the companion when he had called at Longbourn with Bingley. He had been too preoccupied with his own thoughts to give any attention to a servant. What a brute he had been. He might have noticed something telling— something which could have protected Miss Elizabeth… if Mrs. Yeats was found out to be someone other than who she claimed to be.
Mr. Stallard's eyebrows flinched at the mention of Mrs. Yeats. By the second mention of her, he had his hands clasped firmly together and had assumed a relaxed pose. It was too forced.
What did Mr. Tanner suspect? Darcy would make it his business to find out. Miss Elizabeth would have no peace until Mrs. Yeats' name was cleared of any reproach which could affect her family.
More convinced than ever of Mr. Stallard's involvement, and trusting that the gentleman would reveal nothing unless under duress, Darcy said, "If there is nothing else to be considered until the Bennets call, might I suggest we return to our dwellings until they arrive?" He wanted as great a distance as was possible between Mr. Stallard and Miss Elizabeth, and he now had several questions for Mr. Tanner. He did not look forward to their conversation, but the constable had voiced a major concern. More was involved than Mr. Wickham's murder, and Darcy aimed to get to the bottom of it before anyone else was wrongly accused or… worse.
The gentlemen stood, as did Miss Elizabeth. She did not sway or swoon as a weaker female would have taken opportunity to do. She clasped her hand over her heart, looking out the window, her arched eyebrows knit together in anxiety. His determination intensified on observing her suffering.
"Do you wish for me to go to Longbourn? I can speak with your father," he said quietly as the men filed out of Colonel Forster's drawing room.
"I expect them here soon. However, if they do not arrive..." She bit her lips together and inhaled sharply.
He looked at the clock. "I will go if they do not call within the half hour."
"Thank you, Mr. Darcy."
She had no idea how lovely his name sounded on her lips. Gone was the bite in her tone with which she had formerly addressed him. Gone were her defenses, and with that, Darcy felt a heightened sense of responsibility toward her. Not that she was weak. Not in the least. But she was vulnerable. She would not hesitate to put herself
in a dangerous situation to protect her family and friends. He felt honored to have won a fraction of her loyalty, but he could not allow their budding friendship to cause her harm.
“Are you coming with me, or not?” voiced Mr. Tanner impatiently.
“Yes.” Darcy blinked and returned her smile, withdrawing slowly from the room. He did not want to leave.
Lawrence stood next to Mr. Tanner awaiting instructions, which Darcy gave him in short order. He would pack Darcy’s trunk and bring it over in a cart to the inn where they would stay until it was safe to return to Bingley’s estate.
Mr. Tanner trudged across the square so quickly, Darcy had to stretch his legs to keep up.
The post coach having recently departed, the taproom was empty. A barmaid scrubbed the tables, a broom leaning against the wall near her.
Intent on asking Mr. Tanner what his suspicions were concerning Mrs. Yeats, it took Darcy by surprise when the bulky man whirled around to face him, his arms crossed and his fists tightened. “Miss Elizabeth is not one of your loose country maidens to fool with. If you so much as lay a hand on her, I swear your own family will not recognize you when I am done with you.”
Rage coursed through Darcy’s veins. What kind of a cad did Mr. Tanner think he was? “I would never do Miss Elizabeth the injustice of treating her with anything less than the utmost respect.”
Mr. Tanner scoffed, a cold laugh setting Darcy’s nerves on fire. “I know gentlemen like you. You are all the same.” He stepped forward, closing the gap between them.
Darcy made to step around him. The man was unreasonable, and his time could be used to far better advantage than in listening to bitter insults.
“Or do you think yourself too good for her?” Mr. Tanner asked, narrowing his eyes to slits. “She is a pretty little thing…”
“Do not speak of her,” Darcy warned. His fingers tingled and his muscles tensed.