Conundrums & Coincidences (Mr Darcy’s Dilemmas)

Chapter 19

19

A TICKING TIMEPIECE

S leep had come in fits and starts. Restless wakefulness had been followed by dreams of confined spaces and sensations of suffocation. Elizabeth awoke each time gasping for air but was comforted by either Rachel or Miss Rigby, who had taken turns sitting at her bedside.

Through a gap in the curtains, morning sunlight peeked into the room, and Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered open. The splinter’s gash on her thigh ached, but it had been cleaned and a poultice applied the previous night.

Bestirring herself, she squinted at the mantel’s timepiece. Ten o’clock! Never had she arisen so late; and, it being Wednesday, only fourteen hours remained in the competition.

“Good morning, miss. Would you care for some chocolate?” Rachel patted a silver pot. “’Tis no longer steaming hot but still nice and warm.”

“I would, but much time was wasted last night. My being close to victory must be the reason I was forced into that hide. I have a tournament to win, Rachel, and not a minute to spare.” Flinging aside bed covers, Elizabeth placed her feet on the floor. “A puzzle needs solving, and a prize awaits.” She looked to the ewer on the washstand. “Is there warm water? And I shall wear my sprigged muslin this morning.”

“Yes, miss.”

“While you assist with my toilette, tell me what became of Henrietta.”

“Etta was questioned by Mr Monroe,” said Rachel, “but Alfred didn’t stay in the room, so I can’t tell you what transpired there. All I know is she has been dismissed.”

It was not the news Elizabeth had anticipated, but she would not allow anger to damp down her fire to win the tournament. With cheerful predictions about securing Oakwood Manor for her family, she eagerly anticipated the day ahead.

The maid poured warm water into a basin and set out a cake of soap, a cloth, and a towel. “The magistrate and a constable came this morning. Now they, too, are gone.” Rummaging round in the wardrobe, she called out in a muffled voice, “Sprigged muslin, was it?”

“Yes!” Elizabeth dried her hands and longed to sit quietly with her puzzle.

“I hear both of your gentlemen admirers are beside themselves with outrage due to the cruel treatment you endured.”

Elizabeth firmly denied she had two admirers.

“Pish, I beg to differ.” Rachel crossed the room with the muslin over an arm. “Even Mr Monroe and my Alfred are as cross as two sticks about your maltreatment at Etta’s hands.” She gasped, then covered her mouth with both palms.

“Oh! Your Alfred, is he?” Elizabeth smiled as a fine blush overspread the maid’s face. “Come now, Rachel. He is a fine young man. There is no need for embarrassment.”

As the muslin was slipped over her head and buttoned, both women remained silent. Elizabeth was thinking ahead. No one knew what the future would bring; but if circumstances were favourable and she was granted the deed to Oakwood, she hoped Rachel, Alfred, Christopher, Mrs Vincent, and Mr Atwater would remain as part of the household, if they so wished it.

In the sunlit gardens three-quarters of an hour later, Elizabeth sat alone with pencil and paper in her hand and aspirations of owning Oakwood in her head.

In that reverie, a sweet melody flowed from an open window in the music room, where Mary sat at the pianoforte. On the lawn, Kitty and Lydia giddily laughed while playing pall-mall without proper understanding or any degree of seriousness. Jane Bingley, of course, was at Netherfield with her loving husband, Charles; and Elizabeth’s mother lived with the Bingleys because she would not hear of leaving her friends in Meryton.

But how was it all to work? If Mrs Bennet was at Netherfield and if Mary, Kitty, and Lydia were at Oakwood, that meant Elizabeth’s dear papa was no longer alive, for that was the only reason her family would leave Longbourn.

Where do I fit into this picture? She did not. In her dream, Elizabeth resided with her own husband at a place called Pemberley.

“I thought I might find you here.”

For an instant, reverie and reality became one, and Elizabeth stared stupidly at Mr Darcy. The smile on his face made him more handsome than ever as he advanced towards her. But she must have looked quite insensible to him, for the gentleman’s smile disappeared as quickly as had the reverie, its permanence as fleeting as a bubble’s. He asked whether she was well.

“Yes, thank you, I am.”

“Did you sleep well?”

No. Hence my stupor. “Well enough. And you?” Elizabeth noticed a nick on his chin and supposed it had happened while shaving or being shaved. Nick! Yes! Smiling widely but wanting to laugh and dance a jig and, perhaps, kiss Mr Darcy, she schooled her features into something that hopefully resembled indifference.

“Hardly a wink. Yet I”—he gave her a pointed look, seemingly concerned about her odd state of mind—“feel no repercussions from lack of sleep.”

“Forgive me. I was wool-gathering but should be working on this puzzle.” Elizabeth indicated the pencil in her hand and the foolscap upon her lap. I now know both words! She could not help but grin again. Belatedly, she turned downwards both the paper and the satisfied smirk upon her face. In her head, she attempted to rearrange eight letters but needed to see them on paper.

“Ah. Then I should intrude no further upon your contemplation.”

“No, please stay.” After placing her pencil, the foolscap, and a bowl of cherries upon the ground, Elizabeth made room for him on the bench beside her. The gloves she had discarded earlier while working on her puzzle were quickly tugged onto their proper places.

Seated as indicated, Mr Darcy asked Elizabeth whether she might care to hear about the morning’s proceedings. She nodded, and he half turned towards her, slinging an arm across the back of the bench. A whiff of juniper mingled with floral fragrances of the garden, and the air Elizabeth breathed was suddenly infused with a glorious, heady perfume.

“Due to your ordeal,” he said, “Henrietta has been dismissed without reference.”

Not for a moment did Elizabeth wish to rescind her entreaty to keep the maid out of the priest hole. Still, hearing Henrietta had got away with a mere dismissal was rather provoking.

“I know what you are thinking, Miss Bennet. However, she committed no punishable crime.”

“No crime? She assaulted me and held me captive! And what of the missing vase and the tampering with your wine? Was Henrietta responsible for those offences? Then there is the housekeeper’s missing key and the note I received. Although I abhor the very thought of capital punishment, I confess myself not at all satisfied with her penalty.”

In a tone of gentleness and commiseration, Darcy said he understood and agreed. “I make no plea for mercy on Henrietta’s behalf, and there can be no excuse for her cruelty towards you. However, her family’s situation is deplorable. Her father, a widower, is deathly ill and unable to work, and like many other unemployed people, Henrietta’s two brothers were forced into a life of crime to survive. When she was hired at Oakwood for the tournament, her menfolk were well pleased with the honest income she would bring home.”

“I still do not understand. Why did Henrietta single me out? What did she gain by attacking and confining me?”

“She has been in Fordham’s unscrupulous employ off and on for some time. His wife taught Henrietta to read and write and forged references so she could be hired here. They tasked her, as a maid, with finding a master list of the tournament’s puzzles and answers, but Mr Monroe apparently keeps that on his person. When that plan failed, they attempted to obstruct Fordham’s competitors instead. Henrietta stole the opium Fordham put in my wine, then she was ordered to detain you awhile. It was her idea to remove the key from under Mrs Vincent’s ever-watchful eye using the sleight of hand her brothers taught her, write the note, and put you in the hide, but she maintains she did not assault you.”

“Although I was roughly handled, I admit my only significant injury was from a splinter of wood.”

“Does it cause much discomfort?”

“No.” She grinned at him. “Unless you insist I dance a reel.”

“Indeed, I would not dare.” Darcy returned her smile but soon grew serious. “Before Henrietta left in disgrace, she levelled all the blame for recent nefarious activity on Fordham. She told Mr Monroe that the Fordhams’ home is filled with antiques. As we speak, the magistrate and a constable are escorting Fordham to Slough, where they will search his house. At any rate, what they did to you and me was meant to impede our progress in the tournament. I realise that all you went through was deeply disturbing and distressing, however…”

“I am stronger than I appear, Mr Darcy. You may continue without fear of offending my sensibilities.”

“Even had they attempted murder, they would have committed no crime. However, were you a kidnapped heiress, your family could claim property had been stolen from them. Theft of property is a hanging offence.”

Elizabeth grasped at straws. “Theft, then! The missing items…”

“The vase is back in the parlour. Apparently, Fordham told Henrietta he was supposed to have had it valued last year—which I doubt—but forgot to do so. He paid her to move it from room to room during the searches, and I expect he hoped to abscond with it after the tournament. As for the key, rather mysteriously, it was on the housekeeper’s desk by the time Mrs Vincent arrived in her office this morning. I had wondered why Miss Kensett and Fordham were able to enter forbidden bedchambers. Now I know that Henrietta assisted them.”

Elizabeth offered the fruit bowl to Mr Darcy. “Henrietta and Mr Fordham are an artful pair. Poor Miss Armstrong! I am grateful everyone else here has been so kind…though Miss Kensett left much to be desired. What, other than the maid’s dismissal, has been done?”

The gentleman absently twirled two cherries still attached by their stems. “A household inventory is being undertaken by Mrs Vincent, Mr Atwater, and their underlings. The list they compile will be compared with one done when Miss Armstrong originally took possession of Oakwood in the year nine. I expect many heirlooms have disappeared and, or, been replaced by inferior items. But nothing has been proved. Yet.”

Mr Darcy ate the cherries one by one, politely discarding the stones. “Now, Miss Bennet, enough dismal tidings. Since one more competitor has been eliminated from the tournament, the chance of winning has been narrowed. So, if you will excuse me, I shall leave you to work on your puzzle in peace.” He bowed and wished Elizabeth success.

Making her wish a reality was the height of her ambition, so she reached for the paper and pencil, took off her gloves, and set about solving the poser.

A razor might do this, as might a thief with brio .

She scribbled the word ‘nick’.

Extracted, I’m ebon; used, red; discarded, grey.

Beside ‘nick’ Elizabeth jotted down ‘coal’.

Now rearrange your two words to then form a trio.

From those two small words—‘nick’ and ‘coal’—she had to form three. Elizabeth saw the solution to the anagram straightaway but froze, overpowered by a sense of triumph and wonder. If neither Mr Darcy nor Mr Hadley preceded her, Oakwood Manor would be hers.

Upon Albert opening the front door for her, Elizabeth entered the vestibule just as Mr Hadley hurried out from the library. He and she nearly collided.

“Miss Bennet! I do beg your pardon!” The young gentleman’s coppery hair virtually stood on end, and it was evident he had been running his fingers through it. “I was just…ah…looking for…something. If you will excuse me.” He sketched a bow and rushed towards the great room.

Something ‘in a clock’, perhaps? Elizabeth supposed she could eliminate the library since her opponent obviously had not found what he was looking for in there.

Arriving in the parlour, she was pleased to see the Japanese vase once again gracing the unlit fireplace, but she was only interested in the pink marble and gilt bronze clock on the mantel. It, however, was too disappointingly small to contain a deed and key.

She next peeked inside the great hall. Mr Hadley was still wandering about in there, so she crossed to the games room. One glance at its transparent rectangular base proved the pyramid-shaped table clock held no prize.

Mr Hadley was encountered again between the two rooms, and he appeared twice as harried as before. With more at stake than friendship, they stood face-to-face, each anticipating the other’s next move. The gentleman’s eyes darted left, to the hall leading to the manor’s breakfast and dining rooms. They were the only two places remaining.

For a moment, Elizabeth and he engaged in a dance of sorts. Mr Hadley moved left when she moved right, then he moved right and she left, causing an unseemly burst of laughter from both.

Startling when the Westminster chimes sounded from the vestibule’s pendulum clock positioned against the parlour wall, Elizabeth thought it an ideal hiding spot.

It appeared Mr Hadley had the same thought, for his eyes widened, and they both set off in that direction, straining to neither run nor out and out race one another. Like the lady and gentleman they were, Elizabeth and he walked side by side with short, quick steps and in an affectedly refined manner.