The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy (26 page)

Darcy swallowed a deep cleansing breath. “Beside his likely knowledge of the horse, what other weakness did you note in Mr. Gry's tale?”

Cowan stretched out his legs and stood slowly. “I would think that if an outsider insinuated that I held knowledge of a confounding mystery that I would be curious regarding the crime which brought the accusation to my door. Although Gry repeated his claim of no knowledge of Hotchkiss or Bates, he never once expressed an interest in why we would inquire of two strangers.”

Edward mused, “Perhaps the Rom prefers to keep his distance from controversy.”

Cowan shook his head in denial. “No. My money says Gry has an informant under Woodvine's roof.”

Cowan's words no longer surprised Darcy, and that fact shocked him more than did the possibility of a spy operating at Woodvine. “I certainly hope we resolve this mayhem soon. I would prefer to relax my guard and become a country gentleman again.”

Over the evening meal, Mr. Cowan announced his intention of leaving Woodvine early the following day.

Elizabeth, who was seated beside the man, said with concern, “I hope it is nothing amiss that takes you from us, Mr. Cowan.”

The Runner smiled easily at her, and despite knowing he had nothing to fear, the green-eyed monster rested on Darcy's shoulder. He wondered when this need for Elizabeth's exclusive attentions would fade. He had thought once he had won her heart that he would rest more easily, but even after six months of marriage, he could not quite accept the possibility that Elizabeth could love him as much as she professed. With such warm feelings and lively spirits housed in one woman, Darcy found it difficult to do justice to her affections.

“Nothing of a personal nature,” Cowan confessed, “but I do have a possible lead that I should pursue.”

The colonel inquired, “Might you share your suspicions?”

The Runner sent the colonel a quick look. “At this point, I think it best to investigate before I raise false hopes.”

Darcy said, “As you wish, Cowan, but we charge you to take care.”

Franklyn cleared his throat. “Might we retire to the late Mr. Darcy's library?”

As a group, they had decided that this would be the evening they would accidentally ‘find' Samuel Darcy's secret room. Before the servants' listening ears, Darcy said, “That sounds delightful. I imagine we might have a hearty discussion within Samuel's sanctuary.”

When Mrs. Ridgeway appeared in the dining room door, Elizabeth asked with concern, “Mrs. Ridgeway, are you certain you should be from your bed?” The woman was paler than Darcy had recalled, and she wore a bandage on her left hand and forearm.

“Thank you, Ma'am.” The housekeeper curtsied before grasping the door's frame to steady her stance. “It is time I return to my duties.” The woman brushed an errant curl from her face. “Is there something particular you require this evening?”

It did not escape Darcy's attention how unusual it was for the housekeeper to appear in person to serve the guests. Elizabeth's eyebrow rose slightly, which indicated his wife had also taken note of the odd circumstances unfolding. “I believe the gentlemen prefer their port or brandy. I would enjoy another cup of tea.”

“No Madeira, Ma'am?” the housekeeper insisted, which was also unusual.

Darcy said authoritatively, “Mrs. Darcy is not in the habit of repeating herself.” The others might have lessened their suspicions regarding the woman, but he had not.

The housekeeper curtsied. “As you wish, Mr. Darcy.” Her tone spoke of her exasperation.

Elizabeth stood, and the gentlemen rose. “I shall leave you to your cigars and port.”

Darcy reached for her hand and brought the back of it to his lips. “We shan't tarry, Mrs. Darcy.”

Elizabeth nodded and exited. She purposely closed the door behind her. With his wife's withdrawal, except for Murray, Darcy dismissed the attending footmen. “I suspect we have much to discuss, but let us enjoy the fine port and the imported cheroots first. I would not leave Mrs. Darcy to her own devices for long.” As he said these words aloud, Cowan and the colonel reminded their tablemates not to speak of their mission before the servants.

Darcy turned to the scientist. “Tell me, Franklyn, have you learned anything of note from Cousin Samuel's journals?”

An array of emotions played across the man's countenance: Excitement. Anxiousness. Annoyance. Cynicism. “We have discovered some cryptic notes regarding a find your cousin was privy to when he traveled in America.”

The colonel wondered aloud, “I thought the late Mr. Darcy sought ancient civilizations. Obviously, the Americas are but children in that matter.”

“Not strictly true, Colonel,” Sedgelock countered. “There are several ancient civilizations in the Southern Hemisphere. Likewise, one would suspect a period of advancements in the North.”

Chetley explained, “Yet, it was not ancient peoples which the late Mr. Darcy sought. Your cousin was a scientist first, and he came across an invention that could solve an unusual problem plaguing mankind.”

Darcy asked suspiciously, “A great treasure? Is there a hint as to what this discovery might be?”

“I fear not,” Franklyn declared. “At least, not in what we have read to date. As I mentioned, Mr. Darcy chose to describe his find in some sort of code. We have yet to decipher it, but we have not relinquished our hopes. We suspect Samuel used some form of Egyptian or Indian notation. The question is which one.”

Edward suggested, “Perhaps one of us should examine the documents.”

Sedgelock said defiantly, “I assure you, Colonel, we are quite adept at deciphering languages. We are certain that Samuel used a code common to his studies.”

Cowan said sagely, “I doubt if the late Mr. Darcy went to such lengths to conceal his secrets. From what little I have discovered of the man, Mr. Darcy would protect his treasure, but he would not go to such measures as to resort to an ancient language. Samuel Darcy would want his family to know what he knew.”

Sedgelock asked skeptically, “And what makes you so certain, Mr. Cowan? By your own admission, you had no prior acquaintance with Samuel Darcy.”

Cowan smiled amusedly, an expression Darcy had witnessed the man using previously when Cowan thought his opponent had overlooked the obvious. The Runner said, “Mr. Darcy left behind too many clues: his journals and the list of items to be donated to the Society, for example, were exactly calculated for that purpose. He wished for someone to recognize his genius. Samuel Darcy did enough to disguise his discovery from those who served him, but not from those who loved him.”

Darcy mused, “An interesting theory, Cowan.”

Sedgelock puffed up with self-importance, which Darcy recognized as a trait that would only harden Cowan's resolve. “I pray you speak the truth, Mr. Cowan. It will save us time in completing our tasks.”

Edward observed, “Then perhaps my previous suggestion should be revisited. Might my cousin, Mr. Cowan, and I view Samuel Darcy's entries? I assure you that as a military commander I have encountered numerous coded messages, and I would venture that Mr. Cowan has seen a few in his professional life, and as for my cousin, few intellectual puzzles escape him.”

Franklyn evidently recognized the slight, which Sedgelock had offered his host. He said with true regard, “I believe that an excellent idea, Colonel.”

Darcy accepted the opportunity to change the subject. “If you gentlemen do not mind, I would seek my wife's company. I would not have Mrs. Darcy spend the evening in solitary pursuits.” He stood to signal his intention. Cowan stepped to the door and opened it. “If you will follow Mr. Cowan and the colonel, I will have Murray deliver the port and the brandy to the library.”

A few moments later, Darcy entered the library to find Elizabeth protectively situated beside his cousin. Part of him celebrated Edward's thoughtfulness and part of him knew disappointment. He glanced to his wife to capture her gaze before a slight nod released her to her conversation with his cousin. Darcy rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He and Franklyn had decided that they would stage a farce where they would “miraculously” discover Samuel's secret chamber. “We should locate the books my cousin wished to donate to the Society. I am assuming you brought the list with you, Franklyn.”

The man fished in his inside jacket pocket to locate two sheets of paper. He unfolded them before spreading the papers on his lap. The archaeologist announced the first title:
The Manetho Dynasty
.

Darcy turned to the many shelves. “Fortunately, Cousin Samuel had the foresight to organize his shelves alphabetically.” He reached for a thick, black leather-bound volume. “Here is the requested title.” Darcy thumbed through the pages before setting the tome upon a side table. “Next.”

Franklyn cleared his throat. “The
Mastaba and Abydos
.”

Darcy smiled. “You are making it easy upon me, Franklyn. Two titles beginning with
M
.” He quickly located the second title and placed it along side the first.

Elizabeth said, “Perhaps several of us should assist you, Mr. Darcy. The search would be more expeditious.”

Darcy smiled warmly at her. “You were always one for a scavenger hunt, my dear.”

Soon Darcy, Edward, Cowan, and Elizabeth sought the titles. They raced to be the first to spy the sought-after titles. Elizabeth laughed when she and Darcy placed books on the table together. “Thank you for being a gentleman, Mr. Darcy,” she challenged. Her book rested below his in the stack.

Darcy caught her hand. “You would not think kindly of me if I treated you as a mere female, Mrs. Darcy. I learned long ago that you are not only a lovely opponent, but are also a worthy one.”

Franklyn announced, “The
Demon Necromancer
.”

Elizabeth squeezed Darcy's hand. “I believe it is your turn, Sir.”

Darcy nodded his understanding. The others busied themselves as the backdrop to his “discovery.” He said loudly enough for any eavesdropping servants to hear, “Ah, here it is.” Although he knew the binding held the book in place, Darcy pretended not to understand the problem. Unsuccessful, as they each had anticipated, Darcy called for the same small stool he had used previously.

Elizabeth scrambled to retrieve it for him. “Thank you, my dear,” he said with a conspiratorial wink. “I believe the binding may be damaged, Franklyn,” Darcy said as part of his role. “It is evidently caught on some sort of nail.” Darcy lifted the book from the shelf and handed it to Edward. Then he lifted the small lever to free the door. With a swoosh of cold air, the door opened a few inches. As before, Darcy stepped from the stool to wedge his fingers into the narrow opening. With a powerful tug, the wall shelf tilted inward and a gaping hole appeared.

“Dear Lord!” Edward expelled.

Sedgelock gasped, “My! My! What have we here?”

Behind them, a woman's voice rang out, “That secretive prat! I knew he lied about his discoveries.”

The Darcy party spun toward the sound to find Mrs. Ridgeway framed by the library's opened doors. Her hands rested on the teacart.

“I beg your pardon,” Darcy said caustically. “Do you have an opinion you wish to share, Madam?”

Mrs. Ridgeway stiffened, but she did not divert her eyes from the dark opening. “No, Sir,” she said grudgingly. “I have brought the tea Mrs. Darcy requested.”