He shook his head in denial, and the woman who had served him for six and twenty years swallowed her words.“Let us try some warm barley water to settle her stomach. Mrs. Darcy, will you ask Mrs. Jennings to send up some barley water and maybe some peppermint or ginger?”
Elizabeth nodded and rushed from the room. Mrs. Jenkinson’s eyes flew open in terror. She fought to reach the edge of the bed. Darcy brought the pot to her as Mrs. Reynolds supported the woman’s body. Mildred Jenkinson retched repeatedly—her body convulsing. Blood and saliva seeped from the corners of her mouth; however, nothing but dry heaves came from her efforts.“Rest now,” Mrs. Reynolds whispered as she gently pushed the woman back against the pillows.
“Anne, come closer…my Girl.” The hoarseness of Mildred’s voice caused Anne to tear up again, but she went to sit by her only friend. With much difficulty, the woman offered Anne peace. “I will…see my…husband and baby girl soon.”
“No!”Anne pleaded, grasping the woman’s hand in hers, kissing it gently.
The pain caused Mrs. Jenkinson to contract, but she continued her farewells. “Find your heart …my Girl…let love…guide you.”A paroxysm shook her—and then a shudder released it slowly through her clenched teeth as the woman collapsed in a final peace. Mildred Jenkinson breathed her last breath.
Moments later, Elizabeth rushed into the room to find a terrible tableau. Mrs. Jenkinson lay lifeless on the bed, with a sobbing Anne de Bourgh lying across the woman’s body. Mrs. Reynolds stood with her face buried in Darcy’s shoulder as he lightly stroked the woman’s hair. Elizabeth gasped and froze like the others for a brief moment before she took charge.“Come, Anne,” she said and pulled her husband’s cousin into her embrace.“Let me take you from here.”
His wife’s voice brought Darcy out of his trance. He turned Mrs. Reynolds in his arms before catching Elizabeth’s eye. His wife mouthed “Georgiana,” and he nodded his agreement. He would not entrust Anne to her mother’s care this evening. Lady Catherine could not offer the compassion his cousin needed.
“Mrs. Reynolds,” he sat the woman away from him, “find Mr. Baldwin. Move Mrs. Jenkinson’s body to the other wing. I do not want it where it might remind my cousin of her loss. It is too cold and the ground too frozen to bury the lady right away. Clean this room from top to bottom in case of disease, although I do not suspect any such condition exists here.We will need to move Miss de Bourgh to other quarters and assign someone to be with her at all times.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.” She wiped her eyes on her gown’s sleeve.
“I will want to speak to everyone in the morning. Set up the main drawing room. We need to reach the bottom of this—the missing items, Miss Darcy’s visitor, Miss Donnel’s fall, a phantom footman, and now this.”
Mrs. Reynolds frowned in puzzlement. “Do you suspect foul play? Not at Pemberley, sir!”
“Something is rotten in the state of Denmark,” he murmured as he pulled the sheet up to cover Mrs. Jenkinson’s face. “Please send Mrs. Jennings to my study right away.”
“Yes, Mr. Darcy.”
Nearly an hour later, Elizabeth found him in his sanctuary. He stood before the fireplace, his head resting on his arm as he leaned against the mantel for support. “I brought your robe, as well as stockings to warm your feet.”
Darcy glanced as his bare toes. “I hardly noticed.”
Elizabeth came forward to hold the robe for him. Absentmindedly, Darcy slid his arms into the sleeves. Going on her tiptoes, she straightened the material across his shoulders and turned him around to cinch the cloth belt in front. Darcy allowed his wife to address his needs, but he never saw her: He watched a scene of horror over her shoulder—seeing what no one else saw. “Come,” she pulled on his hand and led Darcy to a nearby wing chair. “Let me pour you a brandy.” Elizabeth found the decanter and a glass and filled it. Handing it to her husband, she ordered,“Drink this.”Then she dropped to her knees before him and began to cover his feet with stockings. “I brought your old dance shoes,” she explained. “I did not think I could wrestle on boots.”
Darcy sipped the drink, slowly becoming aware of Elizabeth’s tender care.“Anne?” he asked as his wife rested her chin on his knee.
“Mrs. Reynolds gave her something to help her sleep. She shares a bed with Georgiana.Your sister showed such mature compassion; I was very proud of her.”
“How do we handle this?” Darcy’s voice sounded far away.
Elizabeth came up on her knees, where she might give him comfort. “We cannot reach the magistrate. Mr. Baldwin says it is snowing again.You will need to do the investigation yourself.There has to be a logical explanation: A woman who is thoroughly enjoying herself, as Mrs. Jenkinson was today, simply does not suddenly up and die.”
Darcy gave a little tug on Elizabeth’s hand, and she came willingly into his embrace, curling up on his lap.“Nothing like this has ever happened at Pemberley,” he whispered into her hair, resting his head on hers.
“Then we aggressively seek the culprit.” Elizabeth’s words held a resolve. “The Darcy name will not be blackened in the country.”
“I wish I were as sure as you.” He tightened his arms around her as she snuggled against his chest. “I watched my father devote his every breath to protect this estate, and I was groomed in his image. I always thought the threat would come from without—the factory’s draw on the workers—but the real demon is within these walls.”
“We will find who performs this farce if we have to tear down the walls to reach him.”
Darcy stroked her back as he contemplated what to do next. “I intend to speak to our guests in the morning. As much as I do not wish to frighten them, I must make them aware of what goes on in my home.” Elizabeth heard the defeat in his tone.
“Maybe someone saw something and took no notice of it originally. Your words tomorrow may jog a witness’s memory and help us unwind this mystery. Please, Husband, you must believe this will resolve itself.”
“Oh, Elizabeth, what would I do without you?” He kissed her forehead before tasting her mouth. Raising his head, he looked deeply into her eyes. “You will not leave me if this turns bad?”
“Never!” she declared. “Listen to me, Fitzwilliam Darcy. I will never be disloyal to you. You are my world. If you ever hear me repeat a disparaging word about you, then you will know I am being made to do so under duress. I would fight your enemies with the ferocity of a she-bear.” She cupped his chin in her palm.“I love you to distraction.”
Darcy’s smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “A she bear? You are too petite, my Love.” He kissed her tenderly. “Thank you, Elizabeth. I needed to hear your determination in order to put my desolation aside. Of course, we will find the culprit and bring him to justice.”
“Let us to bed.Although neither of us will sleep, I do not intend to spend what is left of the night curled up in this chair.” Elizabeth stood and offered him her hand.
Darcy followed her to his feet. “You brought life to this house after it had been silent for so long. I will not allow death to hold us hostage again.”
At eight in the morning, Darcy summoned everyone to the main drawing room. He told no one what had happened, only that he needed to see everyone—no exceptions. His aunt objected, but Darcy brooked no challenge to his authority. He even requested that Anne join them, although he spent time offering her his comfort first.
Thirty minutes later, they all gathered in his favorite room—an earth-toned drawing room off the main foyer. Darcy hated to sully it with his program for the day, but he needed the peace it gave him in order to face his guests. He and Elizabeth took up positions before the windows. He ignored his guests’ requests for information, instead directing them to the tea and biscuits he had ordered as a prelude to breakfast.
“Well, Darcy, I hope this is important.” Lady Catherine wore a brocade dressing gown, having refused to dress that early. However, he noted that she had styled her hair and rouged her cheeks before
making an appearance. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine Her Ladyship’s disdain if any of the others had chosen to appear thusly.
“Please have a seat, Aunt. This shall not take long.” He gestured to the maid to pour Lady Catherine some tea.
Finally, Georgiana entered with a distraught-looking Anne de Bourgh clinging to the girl’s arm.
Lady Catherine placed her cup down hard.“Darcy, what is this? You promised me that you would keep things private.”
“And I shall.” He helped Anne to a nearby settee, pausing to caress her cheek and to whisper words of sympathy. “You make assumptions, Your Ladyship.” He returned to Elizabeth’s side.“We shall begin,” he announced in a steady tone he perfected over the years.
Nigel Worth glanced around the room. “We must wait on Mrs. Jenkinson,” he offered.
The mention of her companion’s name set Anne sobbing again. Georgiana slid her arm around her cousin’s shoulders to support her.
“That is part of why I have summoned you here this morning. Mrs. Jenkinson took suddenly ill and passed during the night.”
A collective gasp filled the room.Tears slid from Miss Donnel’s eyes, but she valiantly asked, “How is that possible, Mr. Darcy?”
“I will attempt to answer that question if you will bear with me for a few minutes.”
However, before he could continue, Lady Catherine shot to her feet. “I will take Anne to her room, Darcy. She should not be here.”
“Your Ladyship, I ask that you remain. Anne understands the importance of addressing everyone. Mrs. Darcy and my sister have tended my cousin for hours; she is in good hands. Besides, Anne is stronger than any of us have ever given her credit for. My cousin holds great fortitude.” He and Lady Catherine had a staring match, but his aunt finally succumbed to his request. Only a grumbled “I never!” escaped before she reached for her cup again.
Darcy motioned for his servants to leave before he continued. With the door securely closed behind them, he began his tale.“Two days before your arrivals, my wife’s horse spooked and threw her.”
“What does that fact have to do with Mrs. Jenkinson’s death?” Worth demanded.
“Please let me tell it all, Mr. Worth; I will keep my comments brief; but you must hear the complete tale.” Darcy paused until he received agreement. “I saw nothing before Mrs. Darcy found herself dumped unceremoniously on the ground, but she thought that she had seen a man hiding behind the trees. Although I searched, I found no traces—no footprints or broken tree limbs.Thinking it an animal, we resumed our lives. However, the next day, my sister thought she saw someone lurking about the cottagers’ houses.”
“Darcy,” Lady Catherine began, but she swallowed her objection when he glared at her.
“The next evening, Georgiana had what we thought to be a nightmare—she saw a light moving in her room.” Again, he anticipated their questions, but when none came, Darcy continued.“She also thought she heard a voice.”
Viscount Stafford leaned forward.“What did it say, Miss Darcy?”
Georgiana blushed with his notice. “Nothing really—simply called me by name.”
Darcy stepped forward to draw the group’s interest again.“Then my staff began to report unusual happenings. Mr. Stalling saw a shadowy figure in the Pemberley graveyard. Megs reported a missing candelabra. Mr. Baldwin followed with an account of missing bedding from a room in the east wing. I even thought I saw a person at a window in one of those rooms. It was the day we returned from Lambton—the day of the storm. Since that time, we have experienced Miss Donnel’s accident. His Lordship and I found a string across the steps leading us to believe that someone had planned the incident.”
Again, gasps filled the air. Instinctively, Elizabeth slipped her hand into Darcy’s, presenting a united front. She knew how much this madness hurt him, and she needed to remind Darcy of her complete devotion. He rewarded her with a gentle squeeze of recognition. The rest of her husband’s story would bring disbelief to the room’s occupants. “As Viscount Stafford and I dealt with Miss Donnel’s injury, Mrs. Jenkinson had a confrontation with a man she assumed was a staff member.This unknown man offered her a warning. Now, the lady is dead.”
Mr.Worth was on his feet and moving toward Darcy. “Surely, Mr. Darcy, you do not believe Mrs. Jenkinson’s passing an act of murder!”
“I do.”
A terrible silence smothered the room—Anne’s whimper being the only exception.
“You jest, Darcy!” Lady Catherine’s voice rang clear. Her incredulity spoke volumes.
His words’ gravity settled on everyone’s shoulders. “It is not a subject in which I might find humor, Aunt.”
Darcy listened with some relief when Adam Lawrence recapped for the room what Darcy had just shared. He thought, despite the man’s impetuous nature, that he could be one of Darcy’s greatest allies in this trouble: He needed another perspective.Then Lawrence inquired, “May I ask if Mrs. Jenkinson identified this phantom employee?”
“When I became aware of the lady’s accusations, I made arrangement for Mrs. Jenkinson to observe my male staff. However, she could not identify the man she encountered in the hallway. At first, I thought the lady protected a fellow servant, but I soon came to believe otherwise.”
Lawrence gazed at Darcy. “And why did you not tell us before now about your suspicions?”
Darcy swallowed hard. How can I explain that the reputation of my family’s name took precedence over my vigilance in this matter? I will be forever at fault in the lady’s death. “None of the events seemed connected. Often poachers appear on the property, and something is always misplaced in a house of this size. In retrospect, I know that I should have shared my concerns. But I thought that rumors of shadow people were simply my servants trying to explain the unexplainable.”
“And why might you now believe Mrs. Jenkinson’s death to be murder?” Lawrence’s tone remained accusatory.
“Because of the lady’s symptoms.” Darcy spoke softly, “Anne, might I prevail upon you to describe Mrs. Jenkinson’s progression?”
His cousin dabbed at her eyes, but her voice held a strength that Darcy admired. “After speaking to Mr. Worth, Mildred finally returned to our rooms. Shortly afterward, she complained of a mild headache and lightheadedness.” Anne glanced around suddenly, realizing that she spoke to the whole room—a completely new experience. For a moment, she panicked, but a squeeze of Georgiana’s hand gave her the courage to continue.“The stomach pains came next.We tried some dry toast, and I foolishly teased her for eating so much of the preserves when we were outside. Little did I know how she suffered : Poor Mildred relieved herself of part of her small meal several times. When she tried to speak, my friend’s voice was hoarse. Soon the blood and saliva seeped from her mouth.”The description of her companion’s demise brought on new grief and restarted her sobbing.
Mrs. Williams said aloud what all of them thought. “The lady seemed perfectly well when we attacked the hill yesterday.”
Viscount Stafford took up the questioning again. “Might you share with us, Mr. Darcy, what you believe killed the lady?”
“Arsenic.”The word reverberated off the walls. Unaware of her husband’s assumption, Elizabeth swayed and caught at Darcy’s arm, before he pulled her closer.
The viscount was on his feet immediately. “Arsenic? How would the lady consume arsenic?” He came to stand beside Cathleen, taking up a defensive stance.
“When Mrs. Reynolds tended the lady, she made a private observation that Mrs. Jenkinson’s symptoms mirrored many of those found in cholera.”
Cathleen caught Adam’s hand, but his attention remained on Darcy. “I assume, sir, that your housekeeper spoke out of turn.”
“Not entirely.” Darcy met the viscount’s resolve with one of his own.“Mrs. Jenkinson did exhibit symptoms of cholera, but not just of that disease. Her clammy skin, the tenderness in her stomach, and her dry heaves also spoke of poisoning. Luckily, the cups from yesterda
y’s cider remained in the blue room. One of them has the residue of what appears to be arsenic on the rim.”
“A person would not need a large dose to kill another, but would not Mrs. Jenkinson taste the arsenic?” Miss Donnel saw the faultiness of their assumptions.
“The lady had so many flavored ices,” Mr. Worth remarked, “that she drank the hot cider without needing it to cool.”
Adam sat on the arm of Cathleen’s chair. “I suppose she could numb her mouth enough to not taste the poison.”
“Women of a certain age consume a little arsenic on a regular basis,” Lady Catherine observed.“Possibly my daughter’s companion was one of those women. I have been known to occasionally rub a bit of arsenic on my face and arms to improve my complexion.”
The men looked a bit confused so Elizabeth explained, “Some women are known to mix arsenic with vinegar and chalk. They believe that if they eat this mixture it will make their skin appear paler.Women often exposed to the sun might resort to such drastic measures to achieve a fashionably pale complexion.”
Mrs. Williams remarked, “It amazes me that a woman would consider using a wood preservative on her skin or would consume a compound used for bullets or bronzing or paints.”
Lydia Wickham finally spoke. “But how could the murderer know that Mrs. Jenkinson would choose that particular cup?”
“Maybe you can answer that question yourself,” Lawrence asserted.
Lydia turned on him. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“I believe that you know more than you share, Mrs.Wickham.” Again he showed his protectiveness, keeping Cathleen close to him. “First, you were the one person already in the hallway when my cousin entered it the morning of her accident. Miss de Bourgh came next, and the two of you turned back to greet Mrs.Williams. Only Cathleen continued toward the stairs. Did you plan on hurting Cathleen or was someone else your target?”
The Phantom of Pemberley Page 12