The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy (23 page)

“Sedgelock and Chetley?” Darcy mused. “Are they not the gentlemen who assisted my cousin previously?”

The butler did not hide his surprise at Darcy's knowledge of the workings of Woodvine Hall. “I believe they are, Sir.”

Darcy stood. “Are the gentlemen in the receiving room?” He straightened his coat's lines.

“No, Sir. The gentlemen have joined Mr. Franklyn.” He paused awkwardly. “Am I to see to the gentlemen's accommodations?”

Darcy came around the desk. “Naturally,” Darcy said aristocratically. “I assume Sedgelock and Chetley have brought their own company?”

“Several gentlemen arrived with their entourage, Sir, but I heard one of the men say that Captain Tregonwell had arranged for his party to meet with Mr. Sedgelock and Mr. Chetley in Christchurch,” Barriton said evenly.

“Place the gentlemen in the wing with Mr. Franklyn.” Barriton nodded. “And the others in the smaller bedrooms at the rear of the house.” Darcy glanced out the study's windows to see Cowan crossing toward the wooded parkland. The man amazed Darcy: Cowan was driven to perfection. “How many men did the good captain send as escorts for the Antiquarians?”

“Three, Sir.”

His cousin's finds must be true treasures if the Society had sent three of its most noted archaeologists to retrieve them. “Inform Mrs. Holbrook that our numbers have increased by five.” Barriton bowed to exit. “I will pay my respects to the gentlemen before I seek my wife's company.”

Barriton said, “I believe Mrs. Darcy is in her quarters, Sir.”

Some twenty minutes later, he slipped through the interior door to his wife's bedchamber. Elizabeth lay across the counterpane on her stomach. Her day slipper dangled from a toe as her foot twitched in that characteristic distraction of deep concentration. When studying something enthusiastically, his wife often flexed her foot and held her largest toe at an odd angle. The harder she bit into her lip in concentration, the stiffer her toe became. It was a lovable quirk, and Darcy enjoyed watching her mind at work. He waited by the door for Elizabeth to become aware of his presence.

Finally, she amusedly said, “Quit skulking, Fitzwilliam.” She did not look away from the book she held.

“Skulking, is it?” he said as he approached the bed. “What an odd word, Mrs. Darcy,” he teased. “Is it one of your own invention?”

Elizabeth rolled to her back and sat up. She marked her place in the book. “Actually, it is one of Kitty's. My younger sister could not say the word
sulk
correctly. Eventually,
skulking
became our favorite word for all sorts of tasks.” Elizabeth smiled in reminiscence. “In reality, it is the first time I have used it in what seems forever. Thank you for the memory.”

Darcy sat beside her on the bed. “If you wish, we could call at Longbourn before we return to Derbyshire. I am certain Mr. and Mrs. Bingley would welcome our company.”

Without preamble, Elizabeth flung herself into his arms and kissed him happily. “If I have not told you previously, I have pronounced you to be the most perfect of husbands.”

“I am only perfect for you, my Lizzy.” Bringing her with him, he leaned back to rest across the counterpane. Elizabeth lay atop him. He kissed her tenderly. Darcy so enjoyed these moments; he counted himself among the few of his class who had married for love, but his luck was more than that. Elizabeth had accepted all his overtures, and she had turned into a passionate lover.
Among his peers, their relationship was an anomaly, and Darcy held no complaints. One would think after some six months of marriage that he might tire of her, but his wife needed only to offer a pouty smile across a crowded ballroom, and he was like a randy schoolboy. His hands skimmed her hips. Even through the layers of clothing, he could feel her warmth, and Elizabeth's lips pressed harder against his. “I love you, Elizabeth Darcy,” he said huskily as she relaxed into him.

Elizabeth rested her head on his chest. “And I you, Mr. Darcy,” she said contentedly.

Darcy could have remained as such for many hours. Elizabeth's closeness was all he required, but he was sensible to the fact that the household had increased by five males. He would not embarrass his wife by giving credence to the gossip that would follow their spending an afternoon in Elizabeth's bed. With a sigh of disappointment, Darcy assisted her to a seated position and then righted himself. “I came to tell you that the Antiquarian Society has sent Mr. Sedgelock and Mr. Chetley to assist Mr. Franklyn. The gentlemen are most eager to examine my cousin's various finds.”

“Are those not the gentlemen who spent time at Woodvine in the winter?” Elizabeth asked as she stood to straighten her dress and to mend her chignon.

Darcy remained seated on the bed's edge. “They are. The Society fears several of Samuel's treasures could have been lost due to a lack of oversight. Sedgelock and Chetley have brought three others to supervise the care and removal of Samuel's donations. They come to us via Captain Tregonwell.”

Elizabeth said softly, “Five more.”

Darcy clasped her shoulders to turn her to him. “Nothing untoward will happen, Elizabeth.”

His wife's delicate features tightened. “I cannot say that I am comfortable with the prospect of serving as hostess to a table of gentlemen. After all, at Longbourn, frills dominated the service. Yet, my hesitation rests upon the fact that we now number ten, and we are no closer to solving the mystery than the day we arrived at Woodvine Hall. We have yet to discover the whereabouts of your cousin's body or the reason for Samuel Darcy's demise.”

It was now Darcy's turn to grimace. Even if no solutions were available to this house's mysteries, he had not abandoned his idea of departing from Woodvine. “Perhaps the additional eyes will assist us in seeing what we have not observed previously.” He released her and straightened his waistcoat. “Was there nothing of notice in my cousin's journals that might lead us to answers?”

Elizabeth's countenance lit with excitement. “I nearly forgot,” she said as she reached for a slender volume. “I finished the entries for last year and have begun the ones for this.” She turned to an entry date for the last week of January. “See here.” Elizabeth pointed to a passage. “Your cousin describes his dismay at returning to Woodvine to discover Mr. Hotchkiss's absence.” She read as Darcy looked over her shoulder. “He says, ‘My anger was improperly placed as Hotchkiss would never have departed without good reason. Hotchkiss has served the estate some twenty years, and he had written me in November to encourage my speedy return. Reuben spoke of evil residing beneath Woodvine's roof, and although I have been home but a sennight, I see his words hold truth.”

Unconsciously, Darcy shivered. “It is a shame that Samuel did not heed his steward's warning.”

Elizabeth thumbed through the journal's pages. “Your cousin had resolved to write to Hotchkiss in York.”

“Mr. Holbrook informed us of Samuel's intentions to do so,” Darcy said. “The groom told the colonel and me that my cousin's efforts were to no avail.”

Elizabeth found the page she sought. “Mr. Holbrook erred,” she insisted. “In this entry, the late Mr. Darcy records a most unusual message from a Mrs. Wickersham, reportedly Reuben Hotchkiss's sister.” Darcy took the journal from her outstretched hands. As he read, Elizabeth encapsulated, “Mrs. Wickersham explained that her brother had not returned to his childhood home. In fact, Mr. Hotchkiss's family was most distressed. Your cousin's steward would regularly send part of his wages for the care of his invalid mother. At the time of her writing, Mrs. Wickersham said it had been some six weeks since they had heard from Mr. Hotchkiss. The family had expected his semi-annual wages to be paid in January.”

Darcy read the words a second time to assure himself of the accuracy of his wife's précis. “I will send word to Rardin. It seems only appropriate that a small settlement be made in Hotchkiss's name. If the man had remained at Woodvine, Samuel would have seen to his steward's care and pension,” he said distractedly.

Elizabeth reached for the book. She flipped the pages backwards to rest on another of Samuel's daily posts. “In this one,” she returned the book into Darcy's open palms, “Mr. Darcy speaks of his uneasiness with Mr. Gaylord. It appears that Cousin Samuel intended to replace Gaylord as soon as he located a competent candidate for the position.” It was a revelation that
had not surprised Darcy. He had spoken to Gaylord only twice since his arrival at Woodvine. Neither interview had proved productive. Gaylord had not impressed. In fact, Darcy had sent Rardin a message suggesting that they replace the steward as soon as possible.

Again, Darcy read as Elizabeth excitedly explained her discoveries. Tonight, he would choose the journals for his own reading “pleasures.” “We should share this information with the colonel. You have done well, my dear.” He kissed the tip of Elizabeth's upturned nose. Returning the book to her care, he said, “We should join Franklyn. I assured the man that we would greet his associates properly. The gentlemen are most eager to discover Samuel's treasure trove.”

“I shall ask the colonel to join us.” Elizabeth secured the journal with a string. She placed it with the others in a shallow box before hiding the box under her intimates in her dressing room. Darcy smiled at her precautions. “Should I ask the colonel to bring Mr. Cowan with him?” she asked as she patted her hair into place.

Darcy held the door for her. “I espied Mr. Cowan earlier in the parklands. He may not have returned to the manor, but ask Edward to bring the Runner if Cowan is available.”

They separated in the upper passageway, and Darcy made his way to the library, only to find the Antiquarians waiting for him. “Ah, Gentlemen. I pray you have not been too inconvenienced by my delay.”

Mr. Franklyn looked up from the book over which he and his associates hunched. “Not at all, Mr. Darcy. Mr. Sedgelock brought a detailed inventory of what we should find among your cousin's belongings.”

Darcy nodded his understanding. Although he was more than a bit obsessive over relics from the Middle Ages, especially items of military interest, Darcy had never known such abstracted attentions as the Antiquarians displayed. Of course, the only exception was a particular young lady of a recent acquaintance whose affections he had eventually won. The thought brought a smile to Darcy's lips. Unlike the men gathered into a tight group around the handwritten list, Darcy's cousin had been more than a man of science. Samuel Darcy held many interests: music, art, languages, and agriculture. His cousin had lived in the present and planned for the future. To Franklyn, Sedgelock, and Chetley, only the past existed. “I have asked my maternal cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, to join us, as well as Mrs. Darcy and Mr. Cowan. I assume you hold no objections.”

“Certainly not,” Chetley mumbled distractedly as he closed the ledger containing the inventory list.

Darcy glanced toward the door to see Elizabeth enter on his cousin's arm. Despite a bit of jealousy, which always plagued him when Elizabeth gave Edward her attentions, Darcy had to admit they made a handsome couple. If Fate had not taken a twisted turn, Elizabeth could easily have become his cousin in marriage, rather than his wife. She had initially preferred Edward's company to his. Another errant thought crossed Darcy's mind: If something should happen to him, Elizabeth would be wealthy enough to choose another. Would she turn to Edward? Although the thought of another man knowing her could easily drive him insane, Darcy reluctantly had to concede that he would rather see her with Edward than with any other. His cousin would protect both Elizabeth and Georgiana.

Behind him, men scrambled to their feet. Darcy reached to accept her hand, and Elizabeth left Edward's side to join him. “Gentleman, may I present my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and my wife, Mrs. Darcy.”

Sedgelock, as the senior member of the group, politely extended his greetings to Elizabeth, but to Edward, he said, “I am quite familiar with your father, Sir. The Earl of Matlock is a great contributor to the Society.”

Edward acknowledged the man with an aristocratic nod. “My father believes in God, King, and Country. If your work brings glory to England, Matlock considers your group worthy of his financial support.”

Darcy wondered if his cousin and the Earl had quarreled recently. Edward's tone held notes of strain. His cousin and Matlock were often at odds. As much as Darcy respected his mother's only brother, he disagreed with the disparity with which the Earl of Matlock treated his children. Matlock favored his older son to the detriment of the younger. Darcy had always told Edward that Matlock had to coddle Viscount Lindale because Edward's brother was too inept to survive on his own. Although Edward loved and respected his father, Darcy suspected his cousin still harbored a bit of resentment at being born second. Likely, Edward's previous interest in their cousin Anne had been founded in Edward's drive to marry well and prove himself to his father.