The Phantom of Pemberley

by Regina Jeffers

  “Mrs. Jenkinson seemed content to reunite with her husband and child. Her only concern seemed to be Miss de Bourgh.” Elizabeth watched the man’s expression. “It might be comforting to Miss Anne if you shared your feelings of loss. I barely knew the woman, and even though yours was a short acquaintance, you and the lady seemed to have an affinity for one another.”

  Mr.Worth spoke softly.“I would have liked to have known Mrs. Jenkinson better.”

  Elizabeth sat forward to press her point. “Miss de Bourgh spent the past ten years in Mrs. Jenkinson’s company. It might help Mr. Darcy’s cousin to speak of her friend with someone else who appreciated the lady.”

  “You are very wise, Mrs. Darcy.” Worth seemed to relax a bit. “Does Mr. Darcy realize what a find he has in you, ma’am?”

  Elizabeth stood to leave. “I remind Mr. Darcy of that fact daily, Mr. Worth.” She smiled. “I believe Miss de Bourgh hides in the music room, sir.”

  “I will seek her out, Mrs. Darcy. Thank you for being so perceptive.”

  “Miss de Bourgh.” Worth came quietly into the room. He paused upon seeing the hunched figure of Mrs. Jenkinson’s friend. He finally forced himself to approach the distraught Anne de Bourgh. “I thought it might help both of us if we could speak of Mrs. Jenkinson. Of course, if you prefer to remain alone, I will understand.” He edged forward, coming to where she sat curled up in the chair.

  Anne quickly wiped her eyes and looked up in surprise. “Mr. Worth.”

  He bowed low. “I apologize for disturbing your privacy, Miss de Bourgh.”

  “You are not disturbing me, sir.” Anne thought of sitting up properly in the chair, but she rejected that automatic response. She was in mourning and needed to follow the promptings of her heart, not the stilted rules of etiquette.“I would appreciate your company, sir. Mildred Jenkinson meant the world to me, and I would like for you to know my friend as I did.”

  Worth pointed to a nearby chair. “May I?”

  Anne de Bourgh nodded her agreement.

  For two hours, they sat together. Some tears came, but laughter also peppered the conversation. When a servant brought tea and cakes, compliments of Mrs. Darcy, neither seemed surprised.

  “Mrs. Darcy thinks of everything,” Worth remarked as he took the tea she offered.

  “My cousin chose the perfect woman for himself,” Anne observed. “I am afraid that I could never handle an estate the size of Pemberley. I am too faint-hearted.”

  Worth looked disturbed. “Mildred Jenkinson believed in you, Miss de Bourgh. Although I knew that lady only a short time, I came to value her opinions. If Mrs. Jenkinson thought you capable, I would have the same opinion.”

  Anne blushed. “I have had few opportunities to exercise my will over any situation. Speaking to the whole group this morning was the first time I can ever remember addressing more than two people at one time. Is that not the most ridiculous assertion to ever come from a woman’s mouth?”

  Worth looked on in feigned amusement. This woman knew Lady Catherine’s censure always pressing upon her, holding her down. Yet he had brief sightings of the capable woman whom Mildred Jenkinson described so tenderly. “I would like to see you honor Mrs. Jenkinson’s memory by no longer hiding the real you. I believe the lady would smile down from heaven if she knew.”

  Impulsively, Anne touched his hand. “Do you believe I can be that person, Mr.Worth?”

  He brought her soft hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “I do, Miss de Bourgh, and while we are at Pemberley, I am going to make it my personal mission to help you find that woman.”

  As his staff cleared the last course, Darcy looked up to see a very agitated-looking butler standing beside him. Darcy nodded, and the man leaned in to whisper his news. Darcy’s heart lurched, and he instinctively gripped the chair’s arms. His eye caught Elizabeth’s, and he told her with a nearly imperceptible shake of his head that they had more trouble.

  Elizabeth rose to her feet. “Ladies, might I have the pleasure of your company in the drawing room. Let us leave the men to their port and cigars.”

  The men saw the women to the drawing room and then retired to Darcy’s study.The door had barely closed before Darcy told the others what he knew.“Gentlemen, I need your assistance.The body of one of my younger footmen has been found outside. I would like for you to accompany me to where he lies and then to a room in the east wing. The light grows thin, and we should examine the scene first.”

  They made haste, choosing to exit the house through the servants’ entrance rather than signaling trouble by leaving through the front door. It took only moments to find the body. The boy lay spread-eagled, face down, in the snow—his face buried in at least six inches of damp whiteness.

  “Who found him?” Darcy asked Murray as he slowly turned the body over.

  “Lucas saw something from the ballroom window. He was cleaning the wall sconces in there. When he investigated, this is what he discovered.”

  Adam Lawrence knelt beside Darcy. “When was that exactly?”

  “Less than a half hour ago, sir. Mr. Baldwin thought it best to handle this as discreetly as possible.”

  “Thank you, Murray.” His footman stepped back to await other orders.

  Worth walked back and forth along the edge of the house, examining the bushes and window casements. Meanwhile, Darcy and Lawrence took note of the young Lawson’s injuries. “He has some broken bones, but if he fell from the open window above, that would be consistent with his fall,” Lawrence mused aloud.

  “As would the contusion on his forehead.”

  They found nothing at the scene to tell them what had happened, so Darcy led the men to the room above. “These are the chambers where I thought I saw someone when we returned from Lambton that first night.” He held the door wide for the others.

  The window standing fully wide made the room bitterly cold. However, nothing seemed out of place. They moved cautiously, each of them expecting some sort of evil to be lurking within, but the room was spotless, and everything was pristine.

  “I see nothing unusual here,” Worth remarked as he circled to the left.

  “Only the open window,” Stafford murmured.

  Darcy crossed to where he could look out the opening. From that position, he could see the image of Lawson’s body still in the snow.“He evidently went out head first.There are no scratch marks on the sill, which would indicate that he was not fighting to keep from falling.”

  “So you do not believe that someone threw him from the window?” Lawrence asked as he came to stand beside Darcy.

  “I am not saying that, but I can attest to there being no struggle—no boot marks on the wall or the casing—nothing broken. It seems that he went out…willingly.”

  “This may explain it.” Worth leaned over the bed to peer at a note lying open on the coverlet. Darcy and Lawrence joined him immediately. None of them touched the note, but their eyes searched the words for answers.

  Mr. Darcy and My Pemberley Family,

  I beg your forgiveness. I done evil and now I must pay. It is said that hell is full of good intentions, and although I intended to bring honor to me family’s memory, temptation and false pride led me astray. I took some of Pemberley’s treasures and sold them for me own benefit. I be jealous of what others had, and I took what I thought I deserved, but it be wrong to steal.To make matters worse, I lost the money in cards. It be a sad life, and I can stand it no longer. He that knows no guilt knows no fear.

  “A suicide note?” Lawrence wondered aloud.

  Worth moved to the window. “It would appear so.”

  Darcy pocketed the confession, knowing he would need to add it to his extensive notes for the magistrate. “This would answer the question of the missing items and maybe even the intruder in Georgiana’s chambers, but it says nothing of the string rope or the arsenic.”

  “It speaks of doing evil,”Worth observed before turning back to where Darcy stood. “Maybe that is what he meant.”


  “I think I have as many questions as answers.” Darcy examined the window again before closing it. “We should rejoin the women; they will wonder what has kept us.”

  “Are we speaking of this to the ladies?” Lawrence asked as he picked up the candle.

  Darcy followed with a light of his own. “Do we have a choice at this juncture?”

  “I suppose not.”

  Ten minutes later, they put on their bravest faces and made their way into the drawing room. “Ah, Darcy,” his aunt called. “We thought to play whist.”

  He walked past Lady Catherine and straight to where Elizabeth sat on a settee. Taking a place beside her, Darcy captured her hand in his. “We should speak about something else, Your Ladyship. If you would all join us.” Darcy gestured to the nearby chairs.

  Tentatively, they followed his suggestion, each biting back newfound fears.

  “Fitzwilliam?” Elizabeth whispered close to his ear, but he did not respond. Instead, he gently squeezed her hand and then let his thumb trace circles on the inside of her wrist.

  When everyone had settled, Darcy cleared his throat. “The viscount, Mr. Worth, and I have spent the better part of the past hour examining a situation in the east wing of the house. The body of one of the Pemberley footmen was found lying face down in the snow while we were still at supper.”

  “Oh, no!” Mrs.Williams gasped.

  “Which one?” Elizabeth demanded.

  Darcy turned his head to look at her. “Lawson.”

  Georgiana audibly caught her breath and reached for Lady Catherine’s hand for comfort.

  His aunt demanded, “What happened, Darcy?”

  Her nephew took up the tale again. “I asked Murray to send Lawson to me today. A report had reached me of the young man shirking his duties—going missing for an hour or more at a time. I felt it prudent to first speak to the boy and then to make my decision to either release him from duties or find a more suitable match for his interests. However, the lad had disappeared. At first, I thought it because he knew of my objections and wanted to avoid our talk. I was in error. The boy, evidently, had decided to punish himself for what he considered to be violations of my trust. It appears from a suicide note that Lawson took his own life by jumping from a third-floor window.”

  Cathleen voiced the dissent. “That makes no sense, Mr. Darcy.”

  “I agree, Miss Donnel.” He paused before beginning again.“But the room shows no signs of a struggle. Lawson’s body has a laceration on the forehead and what appears to be several broken bones, but those could have come from the fall.”

  “Then what killed the young man?” Lydia tried to understand.

  Lawrence provided a possible scenario. “The impact, possibly, or maybe the cold. We have no idea how long the young man lay there before someone noticed him.”

  “What motive did the suicide note mention?” Anne asked.

  “Theft of some of my property, supposedly for spending money and gambling—cards.”

  Elizabeth became the voice of opposition. “But you gave Lawson a home when he had lost everything—when his father died in the fire. He was always so appreciative. Is it possible that he was still grieving his losses and fell into a depression?”

  Miss Donnel asked what none of them could explain. “Even if that was true, Mrs. Darcy, why would the boy add arsenic to Mrs. Jenkinson’s drink?”

  “Maybe Lawson feared her identifying him. He was out with my steward when the lady viewed my staff. He was the only one she did not inspect.”

  Lydia chimed in,“But I thought your cook said there was a new footman?”

  Elizabeth looked for an explanation. “Lawson has been with us less than three months. Perhaps Mrs. Jennings considers him new in comparison with the others in our employ.We could call her in and ask her.”

  “Perhaps later, Elizabeth.” Darcy gently pulled her closer to him.

  Anne’s quiet voice interrupted the others. “How do we know the lad took his own life? Other than the note, that is?”

  “Just the note, Anne. And the apparent lack of a struggle,” Darcy responded.

  Worth had joined Anne on a small sofa. “The boy confessed to his thievery and begged Mr. Darcy’s forgiveness, Miss de Bourgh. He never admitted to Mrs. Jenkinson’s attack, but he claimed to have done evil.”

  “At least, we know who caused us so many hours of anguish,” Lady Catherine murmured.

  Suddenly, Georgiana jerked her hand away from her aunt’s. As Darcy watched, an acknowledgment of truth passed unspoken between his sister and his wife. “Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth hissed, “you should speak to Georgiana.”

  Darcy’s voice softened, but a demand remained in his tone. “Georgiana, do you have something to tell us?”

  The girl squirmed under everyone’s complete attention. “It…it could not,” she faltered, “could not have been Lawson who wrote the note.”

  “How do you know, Georgiana?” Darcy probed.

  His sister swallowed hard. “After…after Elizabeth spoke to me today…oh, Elizabeth!” she wailed. The tears flowed down her cheeks, and she buried her face in her hands.

  “May I?” Elizabeth came to his sister’s rescue. Georgiana nodded as she sobbed. “One of Mr. Darcy’s complaints against Lawson was that Murray had found him alone with Miss Darcy late at night. I should explain that my sister often goes to the music room when she cannot sleep. Although Murray assured us nothing untoward had happened, I questioned Georgiana regarding the incident.The reason Georgiana knows that Lawson could not write the note is because she was tutoring the boy. Lawson wanted to eventually apprentice under our steward, Mr. Steventon. To do so, the boy needed to learn to read and write. For the past month, Georgiana has given Lawson lessons. She did so without her brother’s knowledge because Lawson did not want to admit this lack to Mr. Darcy.”

  “Lawson could not write a confession.” Georgiana raised her head to face the others. “He just recently learned to write his name,” she quietly shared.

  “Lord,” Lawrence nearly moaned, “that compounds the mystery. Someone made Lawson’s death appear to be a suicide. If Lawson did not commit the crimes, who did?”

  CHAPTER 9

  THEY ABANDONED THEIR PLANS for cards and music—all thoughts of entertainment gone.Two people had died in the house in less than twenty-four hours, and they had no idea who to blame.

  “My Lord, can we not leave—tonight even?” Cathleen whispered as they stood together by the bay window. “I do not think I can sleep in this house another night.”

  He caught her hand and brought it to his lips. He cared not for the pretense any longer, and if anyone saw, so be it. “I do not see how, my Dear. If it were so, I would have removed you from danger immediately, but I cannot imagine our coach, even unloaded, making it safely to Lambton, or to anyplace else. The snow is too deep. The roads are more dangerous than is this house.”

  “My Lord, I am frightened.” She gripped his hand.

  “I will stay with you at night. I will not abandon you. Listen for my knock.”

  She looked lovingly into his eyes. “Thank you, Adam.”

  “Mr.Worth, what do you make of this madness?”Anne spoke softly for his ears only.

  He shot a furtive glance about the room, assessing everyone’s demeanor.“It appears someone has a vendetta against your cousin,” he ventured.

  “Should I be frightened?” She slid her hand closer to his on the sofa cushion.

  Worth saw the movement—saw her fingertips inch closer—and his heart lurched in his chest. Earlier today, he had felt an attraction for the lady’s companion—but had he really? Had not Mrs. Jenkinson spent equally as much time extolling the goodness of the woman whose fingertips he now wanted to kiss, as she had praising her late husband? Today, when he and Anne had sat together in the music room, he had remembered everything Mrs. Jenkinson said and realized that the dear lady had wanted him to learn more about Miss de Bourgh. “If you will allow it, I shall place my
self as your protector.” He moved his hand to where their last two fingers gently touched.

  “I would be forever in your debt, sir.You have offered me a peace.”

  “Lizzy, this is ridiculous!” Lydia Wickham hissed as she pulled her sister toward a nearby alcove where they might speak privately. “This is certainly not why I agreed to come to Pemberley.” Lydia crossed her arms across her chest—looking as if she chastised her older sister.

  Elizabeth’s temper flared, but she forced amusement into her tone. “Well, Lyddie, you said you wanted excitement.”

  “But not like this,” Lydia protested, looking more than a bit irritated with her elder sister’s attitude. “I sorely wish I had gone to Hertfordshire instead.”

  Elizabeth swallowed her initial retort; instead, she said, “In the future, Lydia, maybe you should remember this threat.” She clasped Lydia’s upper arm. “I am sure that Mr. Darcy and I will celebrate the day that I no longer send you and your wayward husband funds upon which to live.Anytime that you wish to remove yourself from that dependency, I will be happy to receive your tidings. However, until then, you will refrain from making any complaints about these past several days’ events. My husband is doing everything humanly possible to resolve this mystery. You will support him with your words and your actions or you can expect your Pemberley money to disappear. Do I make myself clear?”

  Lydia jerked her arm away. “Ye-Yes,” she stammered. “Yes, I understand.”

  Evelyn Williams watched the rest of the room. She watched as Mrs. Darcy and her sister argued over something obviously important to Pemberley’s mistress. She watched as the young Miss Darcy sought comfort from her older brother and the imperious Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She watched the viscount court his cousin with his eyes and his touch, and she watched Mr. Worth edge his hand toward the one that Anne de Bourgh offered.