The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy (54 page)

Darcy distractedly ran his fingers through his hair. “Damn! This makes little sense. Elizabeth would not leave with a woman for whom she held no respect unless it was an emergency. Where could they have gone?” He glanced to the mantel clock. “It has been more than three hours!”

Sheffield offered, “In anticipation of your injuries, perhaps Mr. Stowbridge sent the lady to find Mrs. Darcy.”

Darcy asked incredulously, “On foot and in the nighttime hours? Even though the squire holds little respect for womankind, he would act the role of a gentleman.”

His valet finally met Darcy's gaze. “Is it possible that Mrs. Ridgeway learned of the confrontation with Mr. Barriton secondhand and took it upon herself to seek out Mrs. Darcy?”

Darcy considered the scenario. “With what I know of the housekeeper's character, I cannot reconcile such benevolence. Besides, Mrs. Darcy would have returned to Woodvine once she became aware of the truth of the situation.” He heaved an exasperated sigh. “We must assume something devious has occurred. Please tell Captain Tregonwell's men that I require their assistance immediately. Mr. McKye and Mr. Castle are likely following the magistrate's orders, but I can use Mr. Poore, Mr. Maxton, and Mr. Douglas. Inform Mr. Franklyn that no guards are available for Samuel's treasure room until I return, and send Hannah to me.” Sheffield raised an eyebrow. “I require your skills elsewhere, and someone must bandage this wound.” Sheffield bowed and turned on his heels to exit. “Sheffield, tell the young groom I require a fresh horse.”

The valet paused by the dressing room door. “You also require a fresh shirt, Sir.” His man caught up a crisply pressed shirt and pressed it into Darcy's grasp. “I insist, Sir.”

Despite the madness, Darcy reverently accepted the fine lawn garment. He recognized his valet's efforts to place order into Darcy's hands. “Be on your way,” Darcy said politely.

“Yes, Sir.” A quick bow announced his man's withdrawal.

Darcy's steps drifted to the window. He looked out over the gardens. His eyes searched for any sign of his wife. “Where are you, Elizabeth?” he murmured.

Elizabeth's eyes fluttered open before drifting closed once more. She had no idea how long she had slept, but the sun's rays caressed her cheek. It was comforting in its warmth, for if she could still feel the sun on her face, then Mrs. Ridgeway had failed to dispatch her to Heaven. The thought pleased Elizabeth, and she smiled.

“You find your situation amusing, Mrs. Darcy?” The housekeeper's breath brushed across Elizabeth's ear, but Elizabeth could not actually see the woman.

Elizabeth did not answer. Instead, she concentrated on opening her eyes fully. The dizzying blackness called to her conscious mind, but she made herself search for the light. Slowly and purposely, Elizabeth lifted her lids, but the light she had
doggedly sought caused her to blink and to tear. Droplets seeped from the corners of her eyes, and she made to wipe them away, but her arms would not move.

Dreamily, she turned her head to the right to discern the difficulty, only to discover her hand tied to some sort of post. She twisted her hand, but the ruby-colored binding held. “You will find the one on the left is equally secure.” There was a note of satisfaction in the housekeeper's tone.

Elizabeth's eyes closed of their own volition; however, she made the effort to remain conscious. “Why?” her dry lips formed the single word.

The housekeeper laughed sadistically. “Why have I taken you prisoner? Simple, Mrs. Darcy. Eliminating you will destroy your husband.” With that announcement, the woman covered Elizabeth's mouth and nose again with a cloth dipped in the same sweetly sickening mixture as before. Elizabeth concentrated on not breathing in the fumes, but it was impossible for her to hold her breath forever, and Mrs. Ridgeway was determined to do her worst. Finally, she could offer no resistance. With a quick inhale, Elizabeth relaxed into the hard mattress upon which she rested.

“Fitzwilliam.” Her thoughts latched onto the one word which made sense in this chaos.

He had personally questioned the maid before setting out for Stowe Hall. The young girl had repeatedly sworn that the woman she had seen with Elizabeth had been Mrs. Ridgeway. “I swears it to be as true as the morning sun, Sir. I should be asking questions, but it be early, and I not be thinkin' proper.”

Mrs. Holbrook snorted, “As if ye ever think proper.”

Darcy had left the woman to prepare a salve for Mrs. Jacobs's burns, and went to meet with Tregonwell's men. He had sent Douglas into the village with instructions to call at the church, the shops, Mr. Newby's cottage, and the posting inn. He sent Poore and Maxton on similar tasks, asking the men to examine the lower third of the estate and the neighboring villages. Darcy was cognizant of the possibility that the housekeeper and Elizabeth had transportation waiting beyond the view of the household, but he had set Stowe Hall as his destination.

“Mr. Darcy,” Stowbridge said with surprise when he entered the room. “I had thought you had retired to Woodvine. I have just returned to Stowe this minute. Is there another matter in which I may be of service?”

The skin of the magistrate's cheeks had become suddenly pinched and tight looking. “I had hoped to speak to Mrs. Ridgeway.”

Stowbridge's brow dipped into a scowl. “I will not entertain the possibility of Mrs. Ridgeway returning to Woodvine.”

Darcy schooled the grimace from his countenance. “I hold no such motive for this visit. I simply possess several questions for which I hope the lady has answers.”

The older man's gaze sharpened, but the magistrate reached for the bell cord. When a servant appeared, Stowbridge gave the order for Mrs. Ridgeway to attend him. Darcy was not certain whether he preferred the woman to respond to the request or to prove herself absent from the manor house. The first would provide him the opportunity to question the woman's motives for calling on Woodvine and to learn something of Elizabeth's whereabouts. The second would prove what Darcy had known from the beginning: Mrs. Ridgeway had brought evil to Samuel Darcy's door.

“You sent for me?” Mrs. Ridgeway appeared in the open doorway.

Stowbridge turned toward the sound of the lady's voice. “Ah, yes.” Darcy half expected the man to finish his welcome with a “my dear,” but the magistrate cut his remarks short. “Mr. Darcy wishes to speak with you.”

“Yes, Sir.” The housekeeper's gaze finally met Darcy's. “May I be of service, Mr. Darcy?”

Darcy's frown lines deepened. “I returned to Woodvine to the news that you had called upon the manor very early this morning. I thought perhaps you might enlighten me as to the purpose of your visit.”

The woman's countenance portrayed mild surprise, but her eyes shuttered an obvious secret. “At Woodvine, Sir?” she protested. “Why would I call on my former employer without notice? I assure you, Mr. Darcy, I hold no desire to experience further abuse at your hands, or those of Mrs. Darcy.”

Darcy's ire reached an immediate boiling point, but he bit back the desire to shake the truth from the woman's lips. “I have not called at Stowe for an attack on your professionalism or for a confrontation. One of the Woodvine staff reports your presence in the manor's kitchen at nearly five of the clock.” He thought to ask of Elizabeth, but Darcy kept his wife's absence
a secret from Stowbridge and the housekeeper until he ascertained what deception Mrs. Ridgeway practiced. It was difficult to believe he would ever meet another woman so entirely deficient in the less common acquirements of self-knowledge, generosity, and humility.

“Why would I take such privilege? I have no reason to do so. Five of the clock?” She turned to the squire. “You must surely see, Sir, that what I have said of the degradation practiced at Woodvine is true.” Stowbridge nodded his agreement. The housekeeper said disdainfully, “You may examine the squire's stables. Other than the horse Mr. Stowbridge rode to your rescue, no animals have been used.”

Darcy said, “I never spoke of your arrival, Ma'am.” He watched the woman carefully. Mrs. Ridgeway expected him to refute her twisting of the truth, but Darcy would not play into her game. He reached for his gloves. “I will take no more of your time, Madam. I had thought to clarify a most unusual report, but we obviously have no further business. Good day, Squire. Ma'am.” Darcy offered Stowbridge an aristocratic nod of his head before making his exit.

Stepping into the light, he cursed his foolishness for coming to Stowe Hall, and, more importantly, to Dorset. He would return to Woodvine and pray Elizabeth would greet him, but somehow he thought it would not be that easy.

Accepting the reins from Stowbridge's groom, he asked casually, “Have there been visitors at Stowe this morning beyond the lady who called upon Mrs. Ridgeway?”

The groom accepted the coin Darcy pressed into the man's gloved hand. “There be no one, Sir, but yer groom and you, Sir. Mrs. Ridgeway had no visitors either. The lady only returned to the hall some half hour prior.”

“On horseback?” Darcy asked softly.

The groom glanced toward the house. “No, Sir. On foot.”

Darcy nodded his gratitude before turning the horse toward a road he had hoped never to ride again. At the fork leading to Wimborne, he met McKye and Castle returning from the village. “Might I importune upon one of you to watch Stowe Hall from a distance?”

“What is amiss?” McKye asked.

“The young scullery maid reports that Mrs. Ridgeway called upon Woodvine at dawn, but the housekeeper denies any knowledge of the event.”

McKye's eyes narrowed. “I do not trust the woman. In fact, there are several at Woodvine who would be seeking employment elsewhere if I had the say.” The man blushed at having criticized Darcy's management of the estate.

Darcy admitted, “We are of a like mind, Sir; however, I am not the sole owner.” He looked backward to where the roof of Stowe Hall could be seen over the treetops. “I fear Mrs. Ridgeway has lured Mrs. Darcy from the estate. When I questioned the housekeeper regarding these charges, the woman staged a confrontation for the squire's benefit. For now, I want to know if Mrs. Ridgeway leaves Stowe Hall, and where she goes.”

McKye nodded. “I know the area better than does Castle. I will see to it.”

Darcy shook the man's hand. “I will send someone to relieve you. I suspect Mrs. Ridgeway will not venture forth until she has the cover of darkness.”

“Just ask Mrs. Holbrook to send over some of her roast chicken, and I will be satisfied.”

Darcy turned his horse in place. “It will be my pleasure.”

Less than a half hour later, he dismounted before Woodvine. “Keep the horse close,” he told the young groom. He glanced toward the manor house. When Elizabeth had not opened the door immediately and bounded into his embrace, he instinctively knew his wife had not returned to the estate. Upon entering the main hall, Darcy noted how Mrs. Holbrook had set the remaining servants to very specific tasks, and Darcy silently applauded the woman's initiative.