Cassy's account of their journey and the meeting with Margaret Baines made exciting reading for her cousin Emma Wilson, when it was transcribed in a letter, written some days later; but no one would ever know the anxiety and apprehension that had accompanied her on her journey that morning. There were few people about and for that they were grateful. The road through the woods was far from easy and when they crossed the river, Cassy, who had never been in this area before, feared they were lost. Annie, however, was able, quite confidently, to instruct the driver and soon they were at the crossroads.
Turning towards the village of Rockford, which was little more than a handful of cottages, a forge, and a dairy lying in a scoop of land above the ancient ford, which had been augmented by a stone bridge a mere century ago, they had to stop, for what had been little more than a rutted dirt road now petered out into a footpath. Instructing the driver to wait, Cassy, with Lizzie and the two girls, alighted and walked up the path towards a cottage, half hidden by the trees that surrounded it. Annie led the way and they entered into a small, clean room, where they were met by a middle-aged woman, who, by her neat clothes and courteous manner, gave an appearance of polite respectability even in the face of hardship.
Her husband, Cassy had learned, was a labourer and had already left for work. He would not be back until dusk. The woman, Mrs Thomas, invited Mrs Gardiner and her daughter to be seated and went to fetch Margaret Baines.
Cassy was to write later:
Oh, Emma, if only you could have seen her. I could scarcely believe she was the same bright girl who had been in our home just a few days ago. Her face was drawn and thin and there was in her expression such a look of fear, almost of furtiveness, that one was immediately reminded of the young woman in a novel, on the run from the peelers. It was horrible. Poor Margaret, it was more than I could do to hold back my tears and Lizzie went to her at once and embraced her!
Margaret Baines had been persuaded by Mrs Thomas, who had taken pity on the girl, to tell her story to Mrs Gardiner.
It was not an easy tale to tell, nor was it painless for the listeners. She started and stopped often, until she was encouraged by Lizzie, who assured her that they wanted only to help her, and reassured by Cassandra, who said she firmly believed Margaret could not have been responsible for Jones's death. The final measure of persuasion came, however, when she heard that it was Josh Higgins who was now under suspicion and had been arrested for the crime.
"It was never Josh! No!" she cried, and there followed a recitation of the entire incident, her words flooding out in a rush.
Margaret confessed that she had been seeing Mr Jones,"not walking out with him, ma'am, but just walking home sometimes, when he would appear on the road that I took on my way home, or when I went into the village to get something for my mother. He would appear and walk with me to the end of the road, where it came out of the woods and then turn back, waiting to see me into the village."
Cassy wrote to Emma:
Quite clearly he had taken a fancy to the girl; he had been asking about her at the inn, noting her head of auburn hair, and, like the deceiver he was, started to accost her while pretending he was meeting her by chance, when he had clearly been waiting for her.
Margaret confessed she had liked him at first, and perhaps she had"flirted a little" with him, but protested that she meant no harm…and did not wish their association to go any further. She swore that she had no illusions that he wanted to marry her."I knew he was a gentleman from a rich family. He told me his family owned a print shop in London and another in Derby; I was not expecting him to propose to me or anything. I knew he would not be interested in a girl like me…" she said, and Mrs Thomas butted in,"He'd be interested all right, in one thing only, of that you can be sure, and once he had that, you can be sure he'd be off."
But Margaret swore that no such thing had happened or even been attempted, even though he had brought her a gift once. She showed them what looked like a little locket on a chain. It was a tawdry trinket of little value—the sort of thing one could pick up in a gift shop in Derby.
She claimed, one day, a little more than a week ago, he had kissed her unexpectedly and she, confused and afraid, had run away from him.
"It was then I saw him, John Archer; he had been in the woods, I thought it was by chance, but it later came out he had been following us and he went after Mr Jones seeing what he'd done and had words with him," she said.
Cassy was astonished."How well do you know Mr Archer, Margaret?" she asked at once.
"Quite well, when I was little, ma'am, but not since he's been away in London and come back. I haven't met him, hardly at all, but I have heard he has spoken of me to others. One of my cousins is a stable boy at Pemberley; he has heard talk among the men that John Archer was speaking of me, wanting to meet me, and such," the girl replied.
Cassy wondered what more was yet to be revealed. It would not surprise her if Archer had had designs on Margaret himself and was following the pair, through frustration and jealousy. She recalled that Mr Grantham had been very set against him being considered for the position at Pemberley, where, as an assistant to the manager of the estate, he would have had both access and influence. Could Grantham have known something of Archer's interest in Margaret and been unwilling to disclose it at the time? she wondered.
Cassy asked Margaret if Archer had ever propositioned her.
"Did her ever say anything to you? Apart from ordinary conversation, did he ask you to walk out with him or suggest he wished to marry you?"
Margaret blushed and appeared reluctant to answer, but said after a minute or two,"Not directly, ma'am, but he had asked about me, whether I was spoken for, but he never said such a thing to me."
It was beginning to look more and more like John Archer, rather than poor simple Josh Higgins, was the man the police should have been looking for.
But how was such a proposition to be proved?
Writing to Emma Wilson, Cassy explained how difficult the task had seemed.
M
argaret Baines claimed that on the day after she had seen John Archer in the woods—that is, the day after Jones had kissed her and she had run away—she saw Andrew Jones again and, when she did, she told him that she would not accept his approaches to her.
"I told him I want no more of it, ma'am, no more of the kissing and cuddling and such, and I warned him we had been followed by John Archer, and I was scared of him talking in the village. I said my mother would hear of it and I'd be in trouble and then most likely lose my job with you, ma'am," she said, and my dear Emma, you may call me naïve, but I do believe her.
There was no effort to hide any of her own silly mistakes; she broke down and sobbed as she told us that she had confided in one of the kitchen maids who had warned her to beware of London toffs, who deceive you and leave you with more trouble than they're worth."I should have listened to her, ma'am," she said and, Emma, I really believe she was quite genuine and I am sure, so would you.
…Cassy wrote, unable to find it in her heart to condemn the girl.
In spite of her warnings and protestations, Margaret claimed, Jones only laughed and told her to ignore Archer and any other man who tried to approach her. He is supposed to have said,"Archer is only a servant, so are the rest. They're just jealous that you are walking out with me and not with them."
It is exactly the type of arrogance that one expected from Jones and his ilk.
Both Lizzie and her mother had heard the girl's story, with increasing feelings of depression. It was the kind of dishonesty for which dissolute young men were notorious and the consequences of their duplicitous behaviour were to be seen in the suffering of innumerable young women and girls, as well as their unfortunate, illegitimate offspring, who filled the poorhouses across the country.
Oh God, thought Cassandra, if she had only come to Lizzie or me. But, she had not, nor had she confided in her friend, the kitchen maid, who may have alerted the housekeeper earlier, when she
went missing.
But, Margaret Baines did claim to have made a firm decision.
On the following day, she said, she had left work earlier than usual and met Jones in the woods, not by chance this time, but, she admitted, having arranged the meeting with him. She had made up her mind, she claimed, to tell him she could see him no more. She had concocted a story of being seen by one of the servants at the house and reported to her mistress, who had given her one last chance; she had to stop meeting him or she would lose her job.
They had been walking along the path that ran along the edge of the quarry, towards a small grove of trees, when she stopped and told him she would not come this way again, but would take the main road through the village, where she could not meet him, for fear of being seen. Jones had only laughed and accused her of wanting to tease him to increase his desire for her and, though she swore this was not true, he, as she tried to remove the chain from her neck to return it to him, had caught her unaware and pulled her towards him, kissing and fondling her roughly, frightening her so that she'd screamed as she struggled to get away.
Cassandra and Lizzie listened in astonishment as Margaret shuddered, recounting how afraid she had been. Clearly, she had enjoyed what had seemed a lighthearted flirtation with a handsome town toff, but his sudden change of mood had terrified her. She claimed that as she struggled and scratched at his hands, trying to break away, she heard what she could only describe as a roar,"like an animal when it is angry," behind them and, as she broke from him and ran, the roar continued and she'd heard the thump of bodies hitting the ground and thrashing around on the forest floor.
"I was so afraid, ma'am, I did not stop to look back; I knew it were probably Archer, he must have followed me and, when he saw what Mr Jones tried to do to me, I think he must have attacked him. I cannot say, because I did not see him, but it was a big man, from the noise he made running at him and shouting. I know it was not Josh!"
Margaret claimed she had run for her life and had not stopped until she was sure she was out of their reach. That night, she said, she hid in the woods, sheltering in one of the small caves until morning, when she had crept down to the village, hidden in the barn, with the cows and, when her mother left the house, she had gone in and gathered together a few clothes and some food, before returning to the woods.
There she had remained in hiding until nightfall, when she had gone down to Mrs Thomas's cottage.
"I took the travelling dress you gave me, Miss. I hoped you would not mind my wearing it to get away to town, maybe Birmingham or Manchester, to find work and a place to stay. It's a fine gown and I thought it would make me look a bit more ladylike, ma'am," she said and Cassandra shook her head, in dismay.
"Oh Margaret, why did you not come to us, to me or Miss Lizzie?" she asked,"Why did you not tell us when you felt this man Jones was pestering you and you wanted to be rid of his attentions? We would have helped you."
Margaret bit her lip; quite clearly she knew the extent of the trouble she was in as well as the quite grievous pain and anxiety she had caused to so many people. It did seem to Cassandra that she was genuinely sorry, but she was, as yet, determined to leave the district.
When Cassy told her that this would not now be possible, she looked alarmed and confused. At first, she'd had no idea that Jones was dead but, as Mrs Thomas and Lucy had discovered more of what had happened, she'd begun to panic. She knew enough about the ways of the police to realise that she would be under suspicion, as soon as the truth of her association with Jones was known. She had heard, too, of what it was like in the dreaded prison ships that took convicts to the Colonies and had no desire to wait around to be arrested and charged.
But, Cassandra made it quite clear that there was but one way and she would have to tell the truth or else, they could do nothing to help her.
Despite her own grief at having to put to the girl such an ultimatum, Cassy knew there was no other way.
"If you leave here alone, we are forced to tell the police that we have seen you; if we do not then all of us—myself, Miss Lizzie, and poor Mrs Thomas—will all be guilty of concealing evidence relating to a crime. That, Margaret, is a criminal offence, we cannot do it. When the police discover that you are on your way to Birmingham or Manchester, they will alert every branch of the constabulary on your route and you will soon be picked up and we shall not be able to do anything to save you."
Poor Margaret's cheeks were ashen and her hands as she gripped Lizzie's were icy as Cassy continued,"If, on the other hand, you stay and return with us and tell your story, truthfully to the magistrate, I doubt you will even be arrested. Or if you are, Dr Gardiner and I can vouch for you and have you bailed. After all, by your story, you have committed no crime; it is certainly foolish to walk out with a man you do not know very much about, but it is not an offence. There is no one who has come forward to accuse you of anything, you may have to give evidence if there is a trial, but that is all. So far, you are missing, but not a suspect. If you run away, you will immediately become a suspect and be hunted down.
"So, my dear Margaret, I strongly advise you to return home with us. We will send word to your mother that you are safe and she can come and see you, but it will be best if you stay with us."
The girl looked reluctant to do as they asked, but finally, after much argument from Cassandra, a stern warning from Mrs Thomas, and some tearful pleading by Lucy, she was persuaded to accept her mistress's advice and return with them to Matlock.
So long had they been that Richard, becoming concerned, had decided to set out in search of them. No one except the housekeeper knew even in which direction they had gone and, as the returning party reached the crossroads, Lizzie caught sight of her father, in his curricle, looking somewhat unsure as to which road he should take.
He looked rather bemused as she waved and called out to attract his attention and, when at last, she succeeded, the sheer relief upon his face was so obvious, Lizzie and her mother had to laugh.
"Poor Papa, he must have wondered what had become of us, we have been away for over two hours," said Lizzie and Cassy, though she said nothing, knew she would have a good deal of explaining to do, before her husband would understand the seriousness of the situation.
Many hours passed before the entire story had been told and Richard, still amazed at what his wife had undertaken, was proud, indeed, of her success.
As Cassy wrote to Emma:
I think the first thing I felt was a great sense of relief, because Margaret was not going to be tried for murder. However, there was the fact that she had been present and would have to give evidence at the inquest and probably at the trial, that is, of course, if there was going to be a trial. After all, no one, certainly not Margaret, had seen who killed Jones, if indeed he was killed.
If Darcy and Mr Carr return with Frank Wickham and his evidence helps clear Josh Higgins, there may not be a trial at all. Dear Emma, this may sound wicked, but if that were to be the outcome, I for one, will not be sorry.
I cannot help feeling some satisfaction that Jones, who caused so many people so much grief, has had his punishment at last. It must be remembered that it was his duplicitous promise, and that of his friend Mr Barrett, to publish Josie's poems that led to all that trouble between her and Julian.
Poor Margaret, even if she comes out of all this, she will not be unscathed. Her life here will never be the same. She may not have lost her virtue, but she has surely placed her reputation in jeopardy. In the village, she will be remembered as the foolish young woman who went walking in the woods with a London toff, who trifled with her and got killed for his trouble.
She is unlikely to get a responsible position in any household, despite the fact she is not guilty of anything more heinous than a foolish error of judgment and some very unwise behaviour. She is quite contrite now, but there may not be many people, other than ourselves, who will trust her anymore…
* * *
For Mr Carr and Darcy Gardiner, there w
as good news when they arrived at Netherfield House in Hertfordshire, after almost a day and a half on the road. Jonathan Bingley welcomed the weary travellers and handed them a message that had arrived by electric telegraph that morning. The first sentence, which told them Margaret Baines was alive and willing to testify, brought welcome relief. However, the rest of the message, in which they were urged to hasten in their quest of Frank Wickham and persuade him to return with them to Derbyshire, in order to tell his story to the police, was to prove rather more daunting.
After they had been shown to their rooms, they bathed, dressed for dinner, and came downstairs to partake of drinks and refreshments in the saloon, where they were joined by Jonathan Bingley and his wife Anna, keen to discover the purpose of their hurried visit. Between them, Darcy and Mr Carr managed to explain the somewhat tangled web of circumstance, report, and rumour that had brought them to Hertfordshire.
As Mr and Mrs Bingley listened, with increasing astonishment and not a little alarm, Darcy explained that Frank Wickham might yet save poor Josh Higgins from the charge of murder if he could be persuaded to come forward.
Yet, he had to confess, they had not a clue as to where he may be found, unless it were at his mother's house in Meryton.
"My dear uncle, we are totally in your hands; Mama hoped you might advise us on how best to locate Mr Wickham and persuade him that an innocent man's freedom, nay even his life, may depend on his willingness to testify.
It is a somewhat unusual role for a Wickham, I grant you, but unless he agrees, Josh Higgins will surely pay the price of his silence."
Jonathan Bingley could not resist smiling at the suggestion; he enjoyed the irony of the situation his nephew had described."You are quite right about one thing, Darcy, there is not one family I know, less likely than the Wickhams, to produce a white knight; but, like you, I too have heard reports of young Frank Wickham that suggest he may be somewhat different to his idle, feckless brothers.
Mr. Darcy's Daughter Page 30