Chapter 18
18
THE GARRET
“… a nd, honestly, she did nothing to earn a place in this competition. In the year nine, when Miss Armstrong first moved here, Miss Kensett’s grandmother, Mrs Amelia Delgrave, now deceased, called on the old lady several times and introduced her to some of the local women. Miss Armstrong made the granddaughter a beneficiary merely to honour Mrs Delgrave’s memory.”
With his back to the window, Darcy stood watching the parlour’s doorway and paying scant heed to Mr Fordham’s blather. He did notice, however, that, like him, Mr Monroe also consulted his watch a second time.
Elizabeth had yet to arrive in the parlour.
She was not even five minutes late; still, Darcy fretted. Elizabeth is always prompt, never unpunctual. She would have sent a message with the maid if she was unwell or unavoidably delayed.
He strode to the attorney’s side. “Someone should enquire into her absence. ”
Mr Monroe seemed somewhat amused. “I assume you mean Miss Bennet.”
Of course I mean Miss Bennet! “Yes, and it is unlike her to be tardy. The time is now ten minutes to six, and if you do not send someone, I shall storm her apartment myself.”
“Very well, sir.” Mr Monroe beckoned Alfred and spoke quietly to him.
The footman’s eyes widened. Then he nodded to both the attorney and Darcy before turning on his heel.
“I suspect Alfred has become as fond of our Miss Bennet as the rest of us,” said Mr Monroe. “But I am sure the young lady is simply having trouble deciding which earrings to wear or some such triviality.”
“And I am sure that is not the case.” Darcy went and stared through the window, waiting for word and fearing, knowing, something was wrong.
When Alfred returned with Rachel and moved towards Mr Monroe, Darcy reached them first. “What is it? What has happened?”
“I…I already…” Rachel wrung her hands, then took a gulping breath. “I already told Mrs Vincent… As soon as Miss Bennet left the room, I ran down and told the housekeeper that someone left a message by the bedchamber door. And Miss Bennet would not let me go with her! To the garret! Why would she go there?” The maid wiped away tears with her fingers. “If anything has happened to her, I shall never forgive myself!”
Miss Rigby rushed over. “What is this about Miss Bennet?” Mr Monroe took her aside and explained.
“Alfred, come with me.” Without waiting for a response, Darcy was out of the parlour door and striding towards the staircase with the footman behind him. “How does one access the garret? ”
“Sir, it will be faster if we take the servants’ passages.”
“Then lead the way.”
“Wait for me!” Mr Hadley ran after them.
When he looked behind, Darcy noticed Mr Monroe had joined their sombre parade.
The footman opened a wood panel and a baize service door, and they all filed into a warren of whitewashed corridors and staircases that had been added over the centuries. The passages were lit by either tallow candles in sconces or rush dips—reeds soaked in hog fat—that had been clipped into holders. Both sources provided only a dim glow that flickered, sputtered, smoked, and emitted a foul, greasy odour.
Even Darcy, who had an excellent sense of direction, might have become hopelessly lost without the footman’s guidance.
Finally, they reached a small spiral staircase. With each step taken, wood groaned under the men’s weight. When the four of them reached the landing, Darcy heard a gentle female voice; but it was not Elizabeth’s. Looking past the footman, he discerned a woman kneeling and holding a candle. She seemed to be talking to the floor.
“Mrs Vincent,” said Mr Monroe, obviously relieved to see the housekeeper. “Is Miss Bennet in there? Is it locked? If so, do you have the key?”
The housekeeper stood. “Someone is down there. They must have heard my footsteps, for they have been knocking. And there has been a clicking noise coming from below. As for the key, it is missing, sir. I do not know how it happened, but someone took it.”
“Wait!” Alfred flung out both his arms, impeding the men behind from moving forwards. The floor in front of him rattled. A trapdoor slowly opened .
Darcy could have wept when a head, full of cobwebs and unpinned brunette curls, emerged from what appeared to be a priest hole.
Elizabeth squinted in the candlelight. “What took you so long? I despaired of ever effecting my escape.” With the footman and housekeeper’s assistance, she climbed out of the centuries-old hiding place. “Have I missed dinner? I am hungry and filthy.” She brushed off her dress and winced. “Kindly pardon my appearance. I broke ten hairpins and a fingernail trying to pick that stubborn lock. The eleventh pin worked like a charm.”
Darcy ran his eyes over Elizabeth’s form. A dark stain spread downwards on the side of her skirt from thigh to knee. It took every bit of decorum bred into him to stop himself from rushing forwards and crushing her to his chest, especially when fat tears slipped down her cheeks.
Mrs Vincent passed the candle to Alfred and enfolded Elizabeth in her arms. “There, there, dear. You have had an awful fright, but you are safe now. Come, let us get you washed and fed.” With fire in her eyes, the housekeeper looked at the four men. “Find the wretch who did this to her!”
“I know who it was,” said Elizabeth between sniffs.
Brushing past the others, Darcy handed her his pristine handkerchief, dearly wishing he could do more.
“Thank you.” She gave him a watery smile and, leaving Mrs Vincent’s embrace, wiped her eyes.
“Who did this to you, Miss Bennet? Who is he?”
Darcy had never heard Mr Hadley so full of anger and anguish; and when he glanced at the footman and attorney, they, too, appeared ready to tear the perpetrator limb from limb .
It was Fordham. It had to be. But he was already in the parlour when I arrived shortly after half past five.
Peering down into the pitch black of the priest hole, Darcy shuddered before kicking it closed. “How long were you in that hide, Miss Bennet?”
“I cannot be certain how much time might have elapsed, but I left my room at about half past five. While trapped, to dissipate a measure of panic, I sang ‘Old Maid in the Garret’ at least a dozen times.” Rubbing her forehead, she moved unsteadily and looked terribly pale in the candlelight. “The person who…attacked me and…locked me…in…there…was…”
Moving fast, Darcy caught her before she could hit the floor, and he prayed she had not fainted from blood loss.
One arm round Elizabeth’s lower back and the other behind her knees, mindful of her injury, Darcy lifted her limp form and held it close to him. Shoulders back and grip secure, he took a deep breath and a careful step forwards, maintaining his balance.
Thus, he began the treacherous descent of the staircase, fearful it might collapse under their combined weight, though she was as light as a feather and no burden to him. Almost immediately, she groaned and revived. He stopped on a stair and watched her fine eyes flutter open. “What…? Where am I? Mr Darcy?”
He felt her stiffen in his arms. “Mr Darcy! Put me down on my own two feet at once. I am perfectly well now . I merely was overwhelmed earlier. Please, put me down.”
He would not hear of it, but he did have to listen to her constant fears of overtaxing his back. In gentle tones, he repeatedly assured her he was under no strain at all. If he took pride in exhibiting his physical prowess, no one else need know .
“Sir, allow me to carry Miss Bennet for you.”
Darcy told Alfred that he could manage quite well himself, thank you. Under no circumstances was he going to surrender his precious cargo to anyone else’s care.
“Watch Miss Bennet’s head, Darcy! The stairs bend to the right just ahead.” Mr Hadley, on Darcy’s heels, kept up a running commentary on the twists and turns in the staircase.
All the while, Darcy relished the feel of the young woman in his arms, and he imagined carrying her across Pemberley’s threshold.
“Why,” she asked, “are you suddenly grinning like a Cheshire cat?”
Because you, my darling, never will be an old maid in the garret if I have any say in the matter. “This is not a grin, madam. This is a grimace—an ugly, twisted expression brought on by the pain of carrying a ton of bricks down a steep spiral staircase.” His remark produced the desired effect.
She smiled, then spoke in no uncertain terms. “Put me down, sir. Now!”
He pretended he had not heard and concentrated on breathing in her fragrance, which customarily brought to mind a summer meadow or an autumn orchard. Now I detect traces of a granary or vegetable cellar.
“Mrs Vincent,” called Mr Monroe from behind. “I will not hear of a genteel lady being carried through servants’ passages. We shall take the longer but easier route.”
“Easier for whom?” muttered Elizabeth. “I shall walk from here.”
“No. I am perfectly capable of carrying you from here to Slough, if necessary.”
Leading the way—though perilously walking backwards down the spiral staircase while guiding Darcy—Mrs Vincent softly asked whether Miss Bennet was ready to name the contemptible blackguard who had assailed her.
“Blackguard? It was not a man who attacked me and forced me into that horrid hide.”
A collective breath was held as everyone waited. Darcy’s mind raced. Surely not Miss Rigby!
“It was the maid Henrietta.” Although she had whispered the name, Darcy was certain the others heard, for there came a collective gasp.
“This is our fault. Henrietta was hired by Pemberton & Monroe.” In a tone of violent indignation, the attorney added, “She will be made to pay. Perhaps some time in the priest hole would serve as apt punishment.”
“No!” Elizabeth tried to wriggle free of Darcy’s arms, and he had a spot of bother trying to maintain his balance on the third last stair. “Please, please,” she begged, “do not put Henrietta, or anyone, ever, in that awful place! So dark, so airless.” She shuddered.
Darcy hugged her tighter and discreetly placed a light kiss upon her hair.
Mr Monroe spoke gently. “As you wish. In fact, I shall have the hiding place dismantled as soon as may be.”
Arriving at Elizabeth’s apartment, they found Miss Rigby and Rachel anxiously waiting at the door.
Lowering his body, Darcy allowed Elizabeth to safely place her feet upon the floor. He helped her stand but remained ready to assist if she stumbled. He need not have bothered. Together with Mrs Vincent, the women whisked the young lady into her bedchamber, and the four men were banished.
The instant the door closed in his face, Darcy was bereft. Still feeling Elizabeth’s body against his, he turned and joined the other solemn men as they made their way downstairs.
At the bottom of the grand staircase, Mr Monroe rubbed his temples and ordered Alfred to have Henrietta brought to him in the library. “Secure her hands behind her back. Spare the wretched girl no mercy.”
Grim-faced, Alfred nodded and set off to take the perpetrator captive.
Darcy approached the attorney and asked to be included while the maid was questioned. Mr Hadley was right behind him. “I wish to be there, too, sir. Miss Bennet is”—he glanced at Darcy—“our friend.”
“Where the devil has Mr Fordham been during this entire incident?” Mr Monroe looked about the vestibule. “Why did he not accompany us to the garret? Was he not concerned about Miss Bennet’s welfare?”
Darcy and Mr Hadley exchanged a look, then followed their host to the library.
I had not given Fordham a second thought, but I suppose he is in the dining room enjoying dinner. For his part, Darcy had no appetite, and he declined either a seat or a glass of brandy when they were offered. He paced, and his heart throbbed in rhythm with the clock’s pendulum.
He, Hadley, and Mr Monroe turned at a sudden sound from the doorway. But it was Miss Rigby, who had come down to advise them of Elizabeth’s condition.
“The poor dear is recovering. She has eaten a bite, and her wound has been tended. Now she is up there pacing and fretting over Mr Darcy’s back, the tournament, and her ruined gown, in that order.”
Finally, Alfred returned with Henrietta. The maid looked as though butter would not melt in her mouth, but the footman seemed ready to beat walls. “Here she is, Mr Monroe. She and Mr Fordham were in the coach house together, waiting for his carriage to be readied. It seems he was absconding and taking her with him. Mr Atwater and Christopher are detaining the gentleman, in case you wish to question him as well.”