“Light more candles, Anne,” he ordered as he touched the woman’s head, checking for a fever. “She is cool and damp to the touch. Bring a cloth and some water.” Darcy took the woman’s shoulders and repositioned her in bed.
Mrs. Reynolds, followed by Elizabeth, rushed into the room. Both women were wearing muslin gowns and robes, with their hair in long braids down their backs. He often considered how his housekeeper had taken on the role of Elizabeth’s mother some time ago, but this picture solidified the image. Mrs. Reynolds pushed him out of the way so that she could examine the woman.“Tell me what you know of her illness,” she demanded. She touched Mrs. Jenkinson’s stomach, and the woman recoiled in pain. “She has a tenderness in her lower abdomen.”
“Mildred ate so little at supper,” Anne barely whispered as she came to the bed’s end. She handed Darcy the water bowl and the cloth. “She said she did not feel well; we thought maybe she took an ague, being out in the cold so long today.” Elizabeth moved beside Anne, sliding an arm around the woman’s waist. “She took a tray in her room, saying she was chilled.” Anne caught the post for support, swaying in place.“Mildred never complains, so I knew that she was not well; I kept checking on her. She has been experiencing stomach pains for several hours. I came for you, Fitzwilliam, when she brought up her meal in the chamber pot I held for her.”
Darcy moved to where he could see the pot. He knew from his parents’ final illnesses that the contents of one’s stomach give clues to the illness. The yellowish tint of the congealed liquid in
the pot told him that his cousin’s companion suffered greatly. Mrs. Jenkinson’s body shook with pain. “If I did not know better,” Mrs. Reynolds spoke for Darcy’s ears alone, “I would suspect cholera. I saw cases of it when I was a mere child, and this woman shows all the signs.”
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.”