Chapter Seventeen #2
Elizabeth spent the next quarter hour recounting the events of the last week to the princess and the magistrate, who was indeed a pompous and puffed up little man.
He spoke shrewdly, as if not always convinced of Elizabeth’s story, and he asked her to repeat several details as if trying to catch her out.
When the princess was satisfied with the account, she dismissed the magistrate, bidding him direct his doubts at the prisoners and their tales of woe. “We ought to oblige Mr. Tilney, and I am absolutely famished. Let us go down to dinner; I hear the great hall is exquisite.”
They were met outside the door by Mr. Darcy and another man, a soldier who bowed deeply to the princess. “Forgive me, ma’am; we were shamelessly eavesdropping, which was most amusing for me, as Darcy wished several times to throttle the magistrate.”
“Ah, so this is Lord Darcy?”
Mr. Darcy knit his brows in confusion before bowing to the princess. The officer laughed. “Do you hear that? I think your lovely bride has just gotten you a promotion!”
Elizabeth recognized the man from Mr. Darcy’s sketches. “Colonel Fitzwilliam, I presume?”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bennet,” he said with a sweeping bow. “I have heard much of you from my cousin. I see now why he has been so prone to brooding since he was last in Hertfordshire.”
“Richard, honestly,” Mr. Darcy grumbled.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam, kindly stop trying to make love to my daughter, and escort me to dinner,” the princess drawled.
The great hall was full of people, for the princess had brought an entourage of more than a dozen friends, as well as her military escort.
The soldiers and courtiers mingled with the other guests, who were bidden to sit where they liked for the meal.
The princess took the large chair at the center of the arced table on the dais, and bid Elizabeth sit at her side with Mr. Darcy and Sir Edward.
Mr. Tilney was also given a place of distinction amongst the princess's favorite friends.
Colonel Fitzwilliam was among their number, and he began teasing Mr. Darcy and Mr. Tilney about the events at the castle. “We were on to General Tilney all along; we had a plan of our own to deal with him, until this mess.”
Mr. Tilney blanched. “How is that possible?”
“Your father was not especially discreet, nor even smart in his dealings at court. I have been compiling evidence against him for months, and we were nearly ready to apprehend him when I heard from Darcy. I was with the princess, for we were certain he would be here with you. And then I got your letter, saying that our delay had caused some apprehension about the general’s arrival, and I knew instinctively that all hell would break loose. ”
“We were detained in Wrexham, what with all the rain,” the princess explained.
“There were not enough rooms for us at all the inns, and so we were obliged to accept an invitation from Lord Hawthorne, the dullest peer in England. My brother Edward could not endure such tedium, and so he braved the weather back to London!”
“I feel ten years older after a week with Lord Hawthorne,” the colonel said grimly.
He encouraged them to share their account of what had transpired at the castle, and he was vastly animated throughout their tale.
After this, there was a great deal of discussion about what was to be done with the prisoners.
“I shall hear them make their cases, and then pass judgement,” the princess said.
“First thing tomorrow, everyone shall assemble here for breakfast and hear the proceedings. And then, once we have concluded the matter, we shall feast in the evening, and have a great many revels. I have brought some entertainers – a very miserable poet, most amusing, and of course some tumblers and a fire breather. We will have dancing and music, now that the necessary preparations can be made. And flowers! There must be flowers.”
Mr. Tilney looked rather overcome, but he instantly agreed. “As you wish, ma’am.”
***
The next morning, events progressed just as the princess demanded. Their large party assembled for a late breakfast in the great hall, the princess’s courtiers blending with the other guests amidst lively conversation.
For a time, Elizabeth was at liberty to enjoy the company of her new friends and relish the ample study of character the princess’s entourage afforded her. Mr. Darcy remained at her side, less enthusiastic about so many new acquaintance in the castle, but ever eager to please his lady.
Princess Elizabeth again sat at the arced table on the dais, with Colonel Fitzwilliam on one side of her, and her friend Lady Abernathy on the other.
Near the end of the meal, she began the proceedings.
She summoned the magistrate, and Colonel Fitzwilliam dispatched his men to retrieve the prisoners and bring them before the princess.
“I will hear the magistrate’s evidence, provided by the good people who have been guests at the castle this week, and I will pass judgement on behalf of the crown,” she declared.
“The accused may speak in their own defense, but I will hear evidence from all. In this I shall be fair and just, and my word shall be law.”
Mr. Darcy smiled at Elizabeth, giving her a gentle nudge. “If you are anything like your mother, I would do well to adopt Bingley’s philosophy after all,” he whispered.
Elizabeth was rather in awe of her mother, and the authority she excluded.
In privacy the evening before, the princess had been warm and gregarious, but presently she was commanding the room.
Elizabeth leaned into Mr. Darcy and whispered, “If you write me too many vexing sonnets, I shall know just how to act.”
Princess Elizabeth summoned Mr. Tilney to speak his piece first. He explained his reasons for inviting his guests to Clwyd Castle, and presented her with all the dossiers as well as the lists and notes that Cathy had compiled.
The princess retrieved an elegant pair of silver spectacles and put them on as she looked everything over, and the magistrate presented the other items of evidence.
The vinaigrette, the charred piece of handkerchief, and all of the murder weapons were laid out on a large silver tray.
Mr. Darcy smiled at Elizabeth. “Both of your parents wear spectacles, my dear one. What a fine portrait of you that shall make.”
When Mr. Tilney had concluded his explanation of the events, the princess called on Elizabeth and her companions to corroborate what they had deduced in their investigation. It was a far cry from the shouting matches that had embroiled them over the last week.
Sir Walter was brought in, still bound but cleaned up somewhat. He was all haughty contempt as the magistrate gave a summary of his crimes. “There are a dozen witnesses to your confession for these murders.”
“To all but Rushworth,” Sir Walter said. He took a step toward the dais, and Colonel Fitzwilliam stood, hand on his weapon.
Sir Walter drew back with a nonchalance that amazed Elizabeth; after all that happened, it seemed he still sought to charm his way out of this. “I was presumptuous in administering the justice that ought to have been yours, Your Royal Highness, but they were all guilty.”
The princess frowned at him. “If you believe that justice mine to dispense, then why did you kill five people?”
“Because his mind has been warped by his own self-aggrandizement,” Lady Susan jeered.
The magistrate stepped forward. “You will observe, ma’am, that there is different handwriting on the documents on the dossier for Sir Walter.
Mr. Tilney and his associates believe this indicated a falsification; they accuse Sir Walter of changing the documents to conceal a greater secret.
I have obtained here a sample of Sir Walter’s writing, and it is a match. ”
Mr. Tilney cleared his throat and came forward.
Though he was near the dais, he spoke for the whole room to hear, for the courtiers were listening in rapt attention.
“We uncovered a newspaper clipping, which you will find there, which details an event that Sir Walter’s twin brother John attended at Clwyd Castle.
Given the significance of the castle’s secret passages, a previous visit to the castle would afford one a certain useful familiarity. ”
“So, his brother has been here before?” The princess looked bewildered, but Colonel Fitzwilliam whispered something in her ear, and she gave a knowing nod. “I recall now that I heard of John Elliot’s passing; an accident, and his twin brother the only witness.”
Sir Walter went rigid, his chin held high. “Of what am I accused?”
Lady Susan heckled him again, and though Elizabeth could not make out her words, her tone was vicious.
Princess Elizabeth scanned the room and then called out to one of her ladies. “Lady Amelia, you are from Somerset. I recall you once had an acquaintance with Sir Walter Elliot, before his marriage. Is there anything you can ask him, that only Sir Walter would know?”
Lady Amelia, a short but pretty woman of middle age and bold appearance, stood and grinned at the prisoner. “I can do better than that, ma’am. I can tell you that Sir Walter Elliot has a birthmark on his abdomen, just above the right hip.”
Excitement rippled through the onlookers as the magistrate roughly lifted Sir Walter’s garments, revealing… nothing at all.
Amidst the outcry, the princess stood and raised her voice.
“Sir Walter Elliot, you will be given into the custody of the colonel’s men, and transported to London for the quarterly assizes, where you shall hang.
Your property will not be forfeited to the crown; we do not want it.
I have heard that Kellynch is not much, but for his efforts here I shall allow Mr. Willoughby his inheritance. Take him away.”