Chapter Twenty-Two
As the constables of Meryton only assisted the populace when required, and were very seldom required, no person at Netherfield that night had any previous experience of transporting a murderer to gaol.
If they had, a sturdy coach would have been made ready for the purpose.
As it happened, however, both Mr. Lucas and the constables had ridden their horses to Netherfield.
Their stealthier approach had its merits, but once Mr. Lofton had been apprehended and restrained, there then was some consternation about how best to remove him from the estate.
Mr. Lucas was obliged to go to the stables to ask for a carriage to be prepared, certain that the Bingleys would not find this officious after all had been revealed.
The revelation came when the constables brought Mr. Lofton inside to be contained while waiting, and Jonathan and Juliet were obliged to explain to the assembled household.
What little calm had settled over Netherfield was shattered in an instant, descending into an uproar.
Only many minutes later could any of the countless questions be answered.
“How could you know this?” Aunt Jane said as the clamor began to subside.
All were gathered in the drawing room—the Allerdyces stricken, Mrs. Hurst almost hysterical, Mrs. Brooks sobbing, the Bingleys pale, Mr. Brooks coolly disapproving, and Mr. Darcy in awe.
Mr. Lofton sat sullen in one corner, his wrists in irons. “How could you be sure?”
“We are sure because Mr. Lofton has admitted to the death of his wife at least, in the presence of witnesses,” Juliet replied, seizing this opportunity to shape the chaos into rational conversation.
“There were signs upon her body that she had been strangled, rather than hanged, and we realized quickly that only Mr. Lofton would have been in a position to do this.”
Jonathan added, “However, we also realized that evidence from the first two deaths also related to Mr. Lofton, and to the reason for his actions.”
There was a moment’s general consternation when Mrs. Allerdyce swooned and had to helped to a chair; but in only moments, Mr. Bingley said, “But why? Why should Mr. Lofton wish to harm Rachel or Mr. Hurst or Becky?”
Juliet said, “It is our belief that Mr. Lofton’s original intent was only to murder Mrs. Lofton.
He was seen downstairs that morning in his dressing gown, obtaining some toast or biscuit for his wife to have before coming down to breakfast. This was not an uncommon errand, it seems, and Mr. Lofton must have realized that one morning, it would provide him with the opportunity he sought, and so he kept the arsenic on hand.
On that fateful day, he saw his chance. He poisoned the foremost coffee cup—the one he knew his wife always took in the morning. ”
“Yet in his haste,” Jonathan added, “he knocked over the small peacock ornament on the hall table, the very one you noticed, Aunt Jane. Only the Loftons’ room was farther down the hall than that table, so only one of the Loftons could have disturbed the peacock.
The great irony is that the sound of the ornament falling is likely what awoke Mr. Hurst earlier than usual that morning, which is why he drank the poison instead of Mrs. Lofton. ”
“It was an accident?” Mrs. Hurst, previously so unmoved by her husband’s death, had now gone scarlet with anger. “You did not even mean to do it? To kill with malice is very wicked, but to kill through mere carelessness? For shame, Mr. Lofton, for shame!”
Mr. Bingley, wan and confused, asked, “You are certain it was not Rachel—indeed, it could not be so—but how did you determine it?”
“Becky’s murder was the first to suggest Mr. Lofton more strongly than Mrs. Lofton,” Juliet explained.
“Mr. Lofton went to the stables on the day household garments were to be dyed black—and the stables are but a step from the area where the dyeing, and drying, were to take place. It would have been but the work of a moment for him to steal a simple sash; and even if he had been found with it before the act, he would have had a ready excuse to hand—claiming it as his wife’s placed there by mistake, perhaps.
Such an excuse would not have come as readily had he attempted to take some of the household rope. ”
“In addition,” Jonathan said, “the knot on the stair was a complicated one, the sort of knot generally tied by only workmen or sailors. Mr. Lofton spoke very proudly of his father’s naval past and the many lessons he learned about the sea.
He himself informed us that knot tying was among those lessons. ”
Juliet recalled Becky’s smile, her hopefulness, her dreams for the future, and the terrible end these dreams had led to.
“Becky must have seen Mr. Lofton in the breakfast room that morning and realized his guilt. Days later, when she was helping me in my room, the Loftons walked by as I was questioning her, and the phrasing Becky used to reply—she said that if someone had seen something that morning, that person would have something worthwhile to tell me. Only much later did I realize that those words were spoken for Mr. Lofton’s benefit.
He must have promised her money for her silence, persuaded her to come down in the night to receive her payment.
Had she been badly injured, she would have been sufficiently warned to remain silent; instead, she died and was silenced forever. ”
“But why?” Mrs. Allerdyce said, through the kerchief she held before her face to catch her tears. “Why should Mr. Lofton wish to kill our sister?”
To Juliet’s surprise, the elder Mr. Darcy answered her.
“Evidently he had tired of his marriage. Divorces are difficult to obtain even when there are legal grounds, and Mrs. Lofton had given Mr. Lofton no such. Yet why he should be so wicked as to prefer murder to the more commonplace remedy of living separately, I could not say.”
As Mr. Darcy spoke, Mr. Lofton shifted his weight in his seat and, though still silent, glanced up from the floor for the first time. He had given up all else upon his capture, Juliet realized, but this—this, he still cared about and wished secret. However, the time for secrets had passed.
Jonathan was the properest person to speak of this, as it concerned his family. He began, “I realized the truth when I thought about Aunt Kitty’s new gloves.”
Every person’s attention went then to Mrs. Brooks, who sobbed all the harder. She would not look up.
“Mr. Brooks does not allow Aunt Kitty even enough money to properly run their house,” Jonathan continued very gently, “much less pin money that would allow her to purchase some things for herself. This, despite his having earned a fortune through both gambling and investments.”
Juliet felt greatly for Mrs. Brooks despite everything, and so she spoke with tenderness in her voice.
“To be so cast down, to feel so needlessly deprived of all the small pleasures of life, to have no measure of affection from her husband—how hard a fate this is for a woman! It must make her susceptible to flattery, to gifts. To any show of admiration or affection, let alone protestations of love.”
Mr. Lofton burst out, “You will leave her be! Kitty knew nothing of this!”
Never had Juliet recognized the piercing stare of disapproval so sharply as she did when it was aimed at Mrs. Brooks by all present. Perhaps one had to experience it before appreciating how devastating it truly could be.
“I did not know,” Mrs. Brooks managed, though her words came unevenly between sobs. “This I swear. Nor had we—had I—there has been no crime, no sin, save that of the heart.”
“We noticed that Mr. Lofton always had kind words to say regarding Aunt Kitty,” Jonathan said.
“He had admitted communicating with her privately once, though he claimed to have sent only a proper letter of apology. This we now doubt. We learned also that he had purchased some items at Mrs. Mount’s shop in Meryton.
He claimed these were for his wife. But then Aunt Kitty began to wear new gloves, which she could never had bought for herself. ”
Juliet added, “You will recall, Mrs. Bingley, that one of your magazines of women’s fashion was once left out, opened to a page about gloves.
At first I had thought Becky might have looked through it covetously, but a servant would have remembered to put the magazine back in its place.
Instead, I believe that Mr. Lofton perused its pages, seeking the correct gift for Mrs. Brooks. ”
Mr. Brooks looked upon his wife with something like disgust before turning toward Mr. Lofton. “Mrs. Lofton was not the only obstacle to your ambition, sir. What had you planned for me?”
How terrible it was to see Mr. Lofton’s crooked smile. “I learned from Mr. Hurst’s death. The second poisoning—no one would have guessed a thing.”
At this Mrs. Brooks fainted. Amid the flutterings this caused, with her sister Jane taking Mrs. Brooks into her embrace and care, Juliet wondered whether this claimed ignorance was true or false.
Mr. Lofton had defended Mrs. Brooks, whose horror and astonishment seemed quite genuine—but Juliet had not forgotten who had been the only person to suggest that Mrs. Lofton might have been the murderer.
Though that may not have been knowledge, merely desire, Juliet realized. If Mrs. Brooks wished Mr. Lofton free, how easily she could have convinced herself that her rival was a villain!
Finally the carriage sounded upon the drive, and Mr. Lucas called, “Bring the rascal out. Never more shall he set foot in this house, nor any other decent place save a court of law.” He appeared in the doorway as he added, “Your fate lies in goal, and then upon the gallows.”
Mr. Lofton gave Juliet, then Jonathan, a look of such hatred she would not soon forget. Yet the man could but rise, hold his shackled hands before him, and submit to his removal from Netherfield, a house which finally was once again safe.