Chapter Five
When Elizabeth awoke the next morning, Harriet was still asleep, but Cathy was no longer in bed with them.
Elizabeth went to look for her in the parlor of their suite, only to stop abruptly after just a few steps.
Cathy was already awake and receiving visitors.
Elizabeth clutched her dressing gown around herself and let out a squeak of surprise, then retreated back to the bedroom to dress herself.
Unfortunately, she had not escaped a moment of unbearable eye contact with Mr. Darcy.
She put on her simplest day dress and hastily plaited her hair before returning to the parlor.
Lady Allen and Sir Edward were on the chaise, yawning into their coffee.
Mr. Darcy and Mr. Tilney sat opposite them, eating from an ample buffet piled on the table between the two sofas.
Emma sat cross-legged on the floor near Cathy, having commandeered a tray of petit fours in her lap.
Cathy had, at first glance, gone insane.
With pins from her sewing basket and paper from the escritoire in the corner, she managed to cover a large section of the dilapidated wallpaper on the back wall with an assortment of scrawlings.
Elizabeth was happy to ignore the rest of their party and examine the occupation that had engrossed her sister.
Cathy turned to her with a bright smile, nearly spilling the mug of coffee in her hand; a little of it spilled onto the tray in Emma’s lap, and Emma devoured the coffee-soaked treats with relish.
“Lizzy, come and see what I have done!” Cathy gestured with another wobble of her mug, and Elizabeth moved closer to examine all the papers pinned to the wall.
There were four columns of pages, and at the top of each a placard was pinned, with elegant cursive: Definitely Innocent, Probably Innocent, Unsure, Suspicious.
Beneath each placard, the subsequent pages were titled with the name of one of their party, with various notes of Cathy’s observations, and the facts that were known of them written below.
The first one under the Definitely Innocent column bore Elizabeth’s name, and cited her absence from the room when Fred died, as well as questioned the possibility of a previous acquaintance with Mr. Wickham.
Elizabeth examined the other pages. Mr. Darcy, Cathy, Lady Allen, Sir Edward, Emma, and Harriet were all listed beneath Elizabeth.
Mr. Tilney, Mr. Bertram, Mr. Rushworth, and Sir Walter Elliot were listed under Probably Innocent – the latter two presumably for their stupidity and silliness respectively.
Miss Denham, Mr. Parker, and Mr. Willoughby were noted as Unsure, while the remaining guests were ranked Suspicious. Various threads were connected by pins.
“The blue threads signify family, see how many connect to us! The green signifies enmity, and the pink is for romance,” Cathy explained. Elizabeth pointed to the pink string from Cathy’s name to Mr. Tilney’s on the wall, and Cathy blushed. “He put it there,” she whispered with a sly grin.
“That was very bold of him!” Elizabeth could only be relieved that no pink threads connected to her own name, though she noticed a green one, and followed it over to Miss Denham’s name.
“She was horribly rude to you last night,” Cathy said. “And do not to tell me you wish a green one between you and a certain someone.”
Elizabeth managed to suppress the urge to look Mr. Darcy’s way and moved on to examine the list of people Cathy considered most likely to be the culprit. Lady Susan, Mrs. Rushworth, Mr. Crawford, Mrs. Clay, Mrs. Younge – there was not a name amongst them that Elizabet could not agree with.
“And I suppose you have left empty space at the bottom of each person’s page to continue collecting information?”
“Exactly!”
Emma set aside the empty tray after consuming the last of the petit fours and assumed a more dignified position as she moved to a nearby chair, still staring at Cathy’s work with wonder. “Is Cathy not a genius? I could never have thought of such a thing myself, but I am fascinated by her methods.”
“It is terribly clever,” Mr. Tilney said, coming to join them.
“Yes, well done,” Elizabeth agreed.
Mr. Tilney nodded at Elizabeth and leaned in a little as he whispered rather loudly, “I have told your sister that she has every right to place me in the Suspicious column, but she will not hear of it.”
“Shall I oblige you in persuading her?”
Mr. Tilney laughed. “See, Miss Morland? She is not so easily won over by generous buffets and inane banter.”
“And it is very circumspect for our host to own to it,” Elizabeth said.
“And has it given you unwavering faith in me?” Mr. Tilney laughed at himself.
Cathy winked at Elizabeth. “I am sorry to say, Lizzy, it rather has.”
Elizabeth shook her head at Cathy. “But how do you mean to collect more information? Do you intend to interrogate everybody?”
“We could begin by collecting my father’s dossiers, if he had them in his things.
I suspect he may have, for after I first discovered them, I went back several times to look again, but never found them.
Either he found a new hiding spot, which I surely would have discovered, or he kept the information close to him. ”
“That is perfect, Mr. Tilney,” Cathy cried. “Might we go search his things now?”
“I should like to go, if you have no objection to taking a circuitous route,” Elizabeth said. “Since it is not possible for me to take my customary morning walk out of doors, I am sure Cathy would delay her investigation long enough to take a proper tour of the castle.”
“Oh, yes,” Cathy agreed.
“Under other circumstances, I would have already offered, I am sure,” Mr. Tilney said with a gallant bow. “But we ought to go in pairs. Darcy, you are a great walker, are you not?”
Mr. Darcy stood and expressed his readiness, and Emma set aside her sweets to clamber to her feet. “Might Harriet and I come, too?”
Mr. Tilney gave a dashing smile. “The three sisters must remain together, of course.”
Elizabeth bit back a retort about how well Sir Edward and Lady Allen might like to be left alone; she was really cross that she would again be obliged to accompany Mr. Darcy. Surely her origins must send him running for the hills, and yet he was inexplicably smiling at her.
He offered Elizabeth his arm, but at the same moment, Sir Edward extended his hand to her.
She went to her uncle, who smiled sadly.
“Be careful, my dear, but try to enjoy yourself. We will speak when you return. Here, take this. If anything happens….” He went to the escritoire and handed her the penknife.
It was long and sharp, and might be effective in a pinch.
“My goodness,” Elizabeth said with a rueful laugh as she tucked it into her bodice. They were obliged to wait a few minutes more while Emma woke Harriet and helped her dress, and when the pair emerged, Elizabeth could no longer delay taking Mr. Darcy’s arm.
The corridors were wide enough for all six of them to walk abreast of one another, though Mr. Tilney remained at the center of their group, remarking on the various features of the castle as they made their way toward the bailey.
The central courtyard was expansive, surrounding the keep on three sides, and for a time they meandered there, enjoying a break in the rain that had persisted since the previous night.
Elizabeth had no qualms about the mud, for the sight of the great castle more than made up for it.
The stone walls rose thirty feet above them, with the battlements and towers even higher.
A small patch of blue sky had opened in the heavy gray clouds, and more rain was likely, but for now she might enjoy the fresh air.
Mr. Darcy seemed content with silence, and so Elizabeth contrarily forced herself to speak to him. “What do you think of Cathy’s investigation, sir?”
“I am almost ashamed that I did not think of it myself. I believe we ought not speak of it to anybody who is not already aware of what she intends, for fear of any sabotage or retaliation.”
“And I believe we may have to add another thread to Cathy’s web,” Elizabeth said archly.
Mr. Darcy smiled. “It may perhaps be a little indiscreet, but I have no objection.”
Elizabeth looked askance at him, surprised by his reaction. Perhaps he had not taken her meaning. “So I might tie a green string between you and Mr. Wickham, signifying your enmity?”
“What?”
“Sir, what did you think I meant?”
“Nothing – it is of no importance. But of course, I recall you have been Wickham’s champion,” Mr. Darcy said with a frown. “I am astonished that since I was last in Meryton, he has not shown the village his true colors.”
“He left the area after Christmas, to take a special position with General Tilney. Oh dear, I begin to see that was perhaps not a mark in his favor.”
“You can hardly think him ignorant of the general’s misdeeds.”
Elizabeth feared she was setting herself up for an argument she would likely lose.
And yet, he had been so kind, would it really be so bad to change her mind about him?
“He was in dire circumstances, I suppose. He claimed that it was your fault that he was obliged to take orders at all. I must speak plainly, Mr. Darcy. Whatever he said to me a year ago, I certainly saw with my own eyes that you had a curious reaction to one another in Meryton. And now he is dead. I have not yet brought this matter to Cathy or anybody else, but I must do so if you cannot give any explanation.”
“I appreciate your prudence,” Mr. Darcy said curtly.
“You asked me once before, when we danced at Bingley’s ball, to account for my dealings with Wickham.
I could not – would not – lower myself to speak of it at such a moment.
I nearly confided in you yesterday when we walked together, for Wickham constitutes one half of the reason I am here. ”