Here's the latest instalment of the story. A couple of chapters are in the hands of the Wonderful Beta Team, so maybe the wait for the next one will be shorter. Also, there are a couple of notes at the end,but it's Mostly Silliness. Enjoy!
Case 9: A Perilous Pastime
Tuesday 23 June, Sunningdale, Hampshire
The Darcys had travelled smoothly and, after having broken their journey in London on Sunday, had arrived at Sunningdale late the previous day. Letters had been exchanged via Darcy's rider, and the Ridgeways had been awaiting them even though all their guests had already retired, waving away their apologies by saying that they understood the displeasure that was had when staying at an inn. At this, Darcy had barely restrained a shudder.
They met most of the guests at breakfast and were first introduced to Lord and Lady Cortlandt—he was the heir of the Earl of Mustmakeupaname(1) and had recently married the former Mrs Johnson, whose husband, a well to-do tradesman, had died some years previously and conveniently left her his considerable fortune. Lord Cortlandt, in common with most of the men of the party, had been at university with Mr Ridgeway. The Darcys were also introduced to Mr and Mrs Scott, Mr Appleton and his father-in-law Sir James Hargrave, and Mr and Mrs Marsh. Mrs Appleton, they understood, had elected to have a tray in her room instead of coming down.
The hours that followed allowed Elizabeth to form opinions about her new acquaintances. She liked the Ridgeways, the Cortlandts and the Scotts right away. The Marshes were more often by themselves than in company, but from what Elizabeth saw, they were decorous and quiet. Mr Appleton she liked well enough, though he somewhat diminished in her esteem once she met his wife. Mrs Appleton was a haughty, arrogant person, prone to mean gossip and eager to discover one's secrets. She had learned about Elizabeth's connections, or lack thereof, and the new Mrs Darcy could not help but think that the woman was busy speculating about how such an insignificant country miss had caught the attentions of one of the most coveted gentlemen on the marriage market. The thought made her smile. Mrs Appleton nonetheless had her uses: it was she who told Elizabeth that the Marshes were related to their hosts, as his first wife had been the former Miss Ridgeway.
"She died some years ago. Such a tragedy! And then he married her nurse. That set tongues wagging, I can tell you. He had barely mourned her one month, and there were no children! Still, I suppose he felt he had mourned her already when she was alive—she lingered for an awfully long time."
There was no guest about whom Mrs Appleton did not know some gossip, and while she kept silent about her father and husband, the others were given no such courtesy.
"Lady Cortlandt was not one of us either, you know. Would you believe that her first husband was a tradesman? He died in some tragic accident." She leant closer to Elizabeth and whispered, "Rumour had it that he committed suicide, but the magistrate ruled differently, no doubt endeavouring to spare Mrs Johnson's feelings—that was her name then. He was buried in consecrated ground, and that was it."
Elizabeth nodded. It appeared nothing more was expected of her. Mrs Appleton had moved on to the Scotts: her money came from trade and he was rumoured to have more interest than what was expected of a gentleman for the cloth factories in the north.
Friday 26 June
Elizabeth greatly enjoyed her stay at Sunningdale. She would have enjoyed it more had Mrs Appleton not been present, since the lady appeared to think that only Mrs Darcy and Mrs Ridgeway were elevated enough to benefit from her society—Elizabeth surmised that no dowry at all was preferable, in the lady's opinion, to a dowry from trade, and thought that poor Miss Bingley would be spinning in her grave. Luckily for Elizabeth, Mrs Appleton was rarely seen before noon, thus she was at leisure to enjoy her mornings.
She and Darcy had finished their breakfast at about the same time as Sir James Hargrave, and since the younger gentleman had to attend to his correspondence, the older one had offered to take Mrs Darcy for a turn in the gardens, which she had happily accepted. After a walk through the park, they came back to the house through the rose gardens. Elizabeth paused to smell a flower, and meant to take hold of it in order to get it closer to her face, only for her finger to land on a thorn. She yelped.
She had removed her hand at once and was looking at her white lace glove, hoping that they had not become stained—Reynolds would be unhappy with her; perhaps it would be better if she wore black or deep red gloves—when Sir James's teasing voice interrupted her musings.
"Afraid you will have to ask your husband for another pair already? Fear not, new husbands are happy enough to shower their brides with gifts—and sometimes," he chuckled, "even not-so-new husbands do the same."
"Do they?" she answered with a smile.
"Absolutely! Appleton is forever giving his wife new trinkets. I own I rather spoiled her as a child—she is my only daughter, and I could never say no to her—but I expected that her husband would be able to curtail her spending habits. As it is, he is so liberal that I would swear she is even more spoiled now than she was as a young girl," he sighed.
There was nothing Elizabeth could answer to this, for she did not believe her companion would enjoy any comparisons between Mrs Appleton and the youngest Miss Bennet. They resumed their walk and entered the house just in time to change for dinner.
It was a lively affair as usual, though Elizabeth's enjoyment of it was dampened by Mrs Appleton's insinuations. It had been clear, from the first day, that she did not think much of Mrs Marsh's and Lady Cortlandt's origins, and she never missed an occasion to remind them of this. Elizabeth was surprised to have been spared such vitriol, but supposed that there had been some truth in Darcy's affirmation that, as a gentleman and a gentleman's daughter, their match did not appear out of the ordinary. Still, she nearly lost her composure on hearing Mrs Appleton making a pointed remark about the convenience of the death of one's spouse—while looking at Lady Cortlandt with a falsely sweet smile.
Saturday 27 June, early morning or late night
Elizabeth woke with a start. There was shouting. People were running in the corridors, doors were slammed. Intent on discovering what was happening, she put on a robe and entered the dressing-room, intending to wake her husband so that he would go out and gather information. As it happened, he had been awakened also and had already sent Smith to inquire about the cause of the disturbance. The valet was not long in returning.
"It is Mrs Appleton, sir," he reported. "She is in distress."
"What kind of distress?" Elizabeth asked.
"Maybe some food poisoning, madam. The apothecary has been called."
"Thank you, Smith. You may go." He turned towards Elizabeth. "Will you go back to your room? I shall snuff the candle once you are gone."
She shook her head. "I intend to go to Mrs Appleton's side."
"Why would you do such a thing? You do not like her."
"Nobody does, which is why I have to check whether it could be something more sinister than food poisoning. May I take your candle?"
Darcy looked as if he would object but, apparently thinking better of it, waved for her to go before settling on his pillow again.
It was easy for Elizabeth to find Mrs Appleton's rooms, for a lot of noise originated from it—though once one was in the room, the smells were more overwhelming than the sounds. Most of it was the doing of the invalid, whose sufferings were all too real. There were cramps, diarrhea, retching—Elizabeth noticed there was blood mixed in the lady's vomit. Mrs Appleton's state worsened through the rest of the night, and when, at last, the apothecary came, he could only tell them to prepare for the worst. There was nothing to do, he felt, but giving her laudanum to make her more comfortable.
There was some panic, as someone emitted the fear that the illness could spread, thus the apothecary agreed to ascertain the health of every person in the house. No one else was sick, thus reason returned—except for Mrs Appleton, whose state could only be described as confused.
Elizabeth had gone back to her room to dress, and her husband entered as Reynolds buttoned her dress and did her hair.
"What is your opinion, Elizabeth?"
"I suspect she has been poisoned, I do not yet know how, nor whether this is accidental or criminal. I shall return to her room and find a way to get answers."
"In case this is not an accident, who would you suspect?"
"Neither her father nor her husband look like they have a hand in it; they appear devastated. They have been by Mrs Appleton's side for hours, trying to give her relief, to no avail. I fear we shall lose her soon, if not from her illness, from overconsumption of laudanum."
"Would that not be best for her than lingering and suffering for days.?"
"That would prevent us to learn anything about the causes of her affliction."
By then, Reynolds had secured the lace cap on Elizabeth's head, and that lady rose.
"I shall endeavour to question Mrs Appleton. I hope she will be lucid enough for me to do so."
Alas, when Elizabeth stepped into the lady's room, she was already dead.
Saturday 27 June, in the afternoon
Mrs Appleton's body had been carried to the ice house, and Elizabeth had decided to let Darcy have a look in her room. His gaze was arrested by a box of candied fruit which appeared to have fallen from the nightstand. He picked it up.
"What is that?"
"Sugar. Is it not obvious?" said Elizabeth, shuffling through the desk. "I think this may have been the last earthly pleasure of poor Mrs Appleton."
Darcy opened the lid.
"It could have been: the box is half empty. I recognise that kind of box; it comes from an exclusive confectioner in London." His wife did not answer. "Elizabeth, how did she get that box?"
"I have not the least idea. Probably her father or her husband."
"Maybe we should check its provenance, do you not think?"
"Mmmmh? Oh, yes, as you wish."
Sighing, Darcy left Elizabeth to her exploration of the desk and rang for Mrs Appleton's maid. The discussion was short: the abigail remembered that the box had appeared on Mrs Appleton's dressing table the previous evening. There had been no note, and Mrs Appleton, who was exceedingly fond of sweetmeats, had not bothered to enquire further about its provenance before enjoying its contents. At some point during this speech, Elizabeth had left the desk in order to better listen. When the ladies' maid left, she said:
"Well, you were right to wonder about these. They must have been dipped in arsenic—it fits the symptoms I observed."
She turned back to the desk, when Darcy caught her elbow.
"Maybe we should check the confections for poison?"
"Why? We know they are the way by which Mrs Appleton has been poisoned."
"Not exactly, Elizabeth. We heavily suspect it to be the case. I suppose we could feed some of this to animals to corroborate this hypothesis, and if they turn out to be deadly, maybe we should try to find a way to identify that poison."
"I told you that given her reaction, it must have been arsenic; the fact she ate a dozen of them also hints at this."
"How so?"
"Arseniate compounds are flavourless, which makes them an efficient method of poisoning."
"Still, I believe you should check. Unless there is no way to do so?"
"There is. We shall skip the feeding part, though, and go directly for the identification. Will you please ask Reynolds for my chemistry case?"
This box, filled with all sorts of vials, full or empty, had been one of Elizabeth's indulgences when it came to spending her pin money. It was, of course, locked, and Elizabeth had the key on her person at all times. She had opened a window and moved a table in front of it. When the case came, she selected a vial of silver-grey powder and another filled with a transparent liquid labelled Aqua fortis. Darcy took it and was about to open the bottle when Elizabeth snatched it from his hands.
"Do you wish to get your hands burned?" she huffed. Setting the bottle carefully on the table, she then went to retrieve an ewer of water. "Just in case. Get ready to pour if I tell you so."
Taking next a small bowl, she crushed some of the crystallised fruit in it, mixing it with water. She then poured that water into another bowl, added a pinch of grey powder, and, very carefully, a couple of drops of the liquid that had intrigued Darcy(2). The reaction was immediate.
"What is that odour?" asked Darcy, wrinkling his nose.
"Garlic," answered his wife, unflappable. "Or rather, arsine. There is indeed arsenic in the confections. See? I was right. Checking has been a loss of time."
"I should not say so," objected her husband. "Now we can say we have facts, instead of mere suppositions."
A pout was all the answer Elizabeth gave him while she carefully put the Aqua fortis back in its wool-lined case and locked the small trunk again.
"Who would benefit from her death?"
"If he was not so grief-stricken, I would say Mr Appleton." On seeing her husband frown, Elizabeth elaborated. "He must have spent a fortune on her—you saw that she must have been forever shopping—and not for inexpensive trinkets. Next to Mrs Appleton, my mother is a picture of moderation!"
Darcy was still looking at her strangely. Elizabeth rolled her eyes.
"Surely, you must have realised that her dresses and jewels must have been very expensive."
"I did, but I was under the impression that Mr Appleton was not the one who paid for them."
She started. "Her father thought it to be the case. We had a conversation about this the other day."
"Whereas I had a conversation with Appleton, and he supposed that her father was the one spoiling her."
The spouses looked at each other, puzzled.
"Where did she find the money for these, then? Could they have been gifts? Do you think she could have had a lover?" ventured Elizabeth.
"It seems unlikely. She was not exactly discreet, there would have been hints of such a thing."
Elizabeth nodded and set to finish her search of the desk. In a drawer, she found a small notebook and a bundle of banknotes. The former was of particular interest to her, and before long she called to her husband.
"Darcy, come see this!"
As he picked up the notebook and leafed through it, she asked: "Do you think it is what I believe it is?"
"If you are thinking she was secretly writing poetry to supplement her income, I am afraid I do not share your opinion."
She huffed. He smiled. "You are thinking about blackmail?"
"Yes! Names, informations, and how they were obtained. Lady Cortlandt's name is one of the last she entered … oh, and Lord Cortlandt's is there too!"
"Do you recognise any other names?"
"Not at first glance; we shall have to browse it carefully. Mrs Appleton led an interesting life …"
"Could you check whether—no, never mind."
Elizabeth looked inquiringly at her husband.
"There is nothing."
His wife raised an eyebrow.
"Very well. I wondered whether a certain someone could have been involved in that scheme—please let me continue—before ascertaining that it was unlikely."
"Will you admit at least that Mr Wickham may be an average, opportunistic rake—and not an evil mastermind?"
"That is not it," Darcy said, the tips of his ears reddening. "Had he been involved in a blackmail scheme, I would have heard of it." On seeing that his wife was still frowning, he added: "My sister."
"Oh."
Elizabeth opened the notebook again, looking at each page more attentively. She marked one of them and, once she was done, came back to it.
"Darcy?"
"Yes?"
"Can you remind me of the current Mrs Marsh's maiden name?"
He thought for a little time before answering.
"I do not think I ever knew it. I knew she was not well connected, possibly not even gentry, thus her name was not considered as worthy to share. She was the nurse of the first Mrs Marsh during her illness."
Elizabeth nodded and appeared thoughtful.
"What did you find?"
She gave him the booklet, open at the page which sported the following entry:
L.U.—demise of M. spouse following illness that worsened once U. hired as personal nurse. Poison then laudanum? Second wedding during mourning period though no children. Question servants.
"I shall ask Ridgeway. He may know."
"What did he think of his brother's second marriage?"
"He did not like it," said Darcy with a shrug. "Especially since it happened so soon after his sister died. However, there was nothing he could do against he match."
Elizabeth nodded. "And what did he think of his sister's marriage?"
Darcy paused.
"I do no believe he liked it either," he said slowly. "I remember him saying that Miss Ridgeway was too good for the likes of Marsh." On seeing Elizabeth's raised eyebrow, he went on. "I did not ask him to elaborate. Having a younger sister myself and being of a similar mindset where she is concerned, I assumed he was thinking about the same lines as I did."
On seeing how his wife's attitude changed, reminding him of a cat having spotted a bird and about to slowly crawl towards its prey(3), he frowned.
"Why this sudden interest for the Marshes? Nothing hints, much less proves, that they could be behind this."
"We do have an array of presumptions. They were there to act, and they could fit this entry," she said, tapping her finger on the still displayed page. "Mrs Appleton's remark about the sudden death of a spouse, though aimed at the Cortlandts, would also fit them."
"The first Mrs Marsh's death was not so very sudden," Darcy objected. He could have saved his breath, for his wife had no intention of letting go of her hypothesis.
That evening, after dinner
Elizabeth's mood had slightly dampened on learning that, before her marriage, Mrs Marsh had been a Miss Stevens, and that her given name was Jane; however, she refused to stop digging into the Marshes' circumstances. When Darcy, as they had finished dressing for dinner, asked her the reason for her obstinacy, her answer was: "They are far too adept at redirecting attention away from them to not be guilty of something."
He had conceded the point but did not think they should exonerate the Cortlandts so soon, especially as they had found the draft for two notes, one addressed to Lady Cortlandt and one to her husband, asking for more money than the man had already given.
They had decided to put the separation of sexes to use and interrogate the spouses separately. As Lord Cortlandt was by himself, Darcy easily joined him.
"How well did you know Mrs Appleton?" he asked in a low voice. On seeing Lord Cortlandt's offended expression, he added to add: "Maybe I should rather ask how well sheknew you."
With this, Darcy had garnered the man's interest, and he thought he could see a hint of fear in his eyes.
"Well? Is this where you say me that she was not blackmailing you and your wife?"
Lord Cortlandt blanched. "She also went after my wife?"
"She did."
"Emily is innocent!"
Darcy only tilted his head on the side.
"She would not hurt a fly!" Cortland whispered urgently. "You must believe me! She—I—I did it! I killed Mrs Appleton."
"Lord Cortlandt," said Darcy, rather taken aback. "I do not think—"
"Then do not. I shall be in my rooms when you come with the magistrate."
With this, he raised his voice to complain about a sudden headache, nodded to his host and left the dining room. Darcy was of a mind to follow him, but on seeing he went up the stairs and not into the drawing room where his wife was, decided to leave him be.
When they entered the drawing room, a look at a visibly frustrated Elizabeth was all he needed to realise that she did not have a tête-à-tête with Lady Cortlandt. Her husband's absence gave them a perfect opportunity to engineer one.
"Ah, Lady Cortlandt. I believe your husband will wish to see you. May I accompany you?"
A crease appeared on the lady's forehead, and she nodded. When she rose, Elizabeth did likewise.
"I feel myself rather tired. Will you mind if I retire?"
"Not at all, Mrs Darcy," said Mrs Ridgeway. "We have had tiring days."
The two ladies and the gentleman stepped into the hall, after which Darcy directed them to the library. A glance allowed Lady Cortlandt to see that it was empty.
"Where is my husband?"
"He is in his rooms, we shall join him shortly," Darcy said.
"We shall be frank, Lady Cortlandt," said Elizabeth. "We are aware that Mrs Appleton knew something about you and made you pay her to keep quiet."
Lady Cortlandt did not even try to contradict them. Her shoulders slumped.
"I knew Mrs Appleton from the time I was married to Mr Johnson. She was still Miss Hargrave then, and visited my shop often enough. It was she who discovered my husband's death just after he fell from that ladder—only, I did not know that at first, for she had run to get some help, and by the time she came back, I had modified some things in the room."
"Why would you do such a thing if it was an accident?" Darcy asked with a frown. "Did things look as if there has been a set-up, and you wished to avoid speculation?"
"Not at all," Lady Cortlandt replied. "It clearly looked like an accident. I placed the ladder upright again, added a block of stone on which I put some of Johnson's blood, and a length of fabric. It was not enough, though. The magistrate thought it would have been too complicated a scheme for a suicide and merely deplored my husband's imprudence in storing such a heavy object so precariously."
"You wished for people to think your husband killed himself?" Elizabeth said, voicing her and Darcy's puzzlement.
"Yes. He was a bad man. A very bad man. He did not deserve to rest in peace. I wished to deny him a proper burial, but I failed in my endeavour. Of course, Mrs Appleton noticed the changes," she continued with a shrug. "She once made a remark that made me uneasy, but then she married, and then I remarried. I was very distressed that Lord Cortlandt brought me to a place where I would have to mingle with her. Such a stroke of bad luck! At first, I hoped she did not recognise me. However, her little joke about conveniently dead husbands made me suspect otherwise—she looked at me too pointedly for it to be a coincidence. She confirmed it afterwards when she began asking me for money."
"What did you do then?"
"What could I have done? I paid, of course. Otherwise the scandal would have hurt Lord Cortlandt."
"Then?"
"She died," Lady Cortlandt said.
Darcy and Elizabeth looked at her.
"I did not do it!" she exclaimed. "I shall not say that I was not relieved by her death, and if she had continued to ask for money I do not know how I would have fared, but I promise I did not kill her."
"We already know this."
"How?"
"Your husband confessed all."
"No! Why? He knows nothing about it! Why would he have done such a thing?"
"She came to him with the same threats she came to you."
"Oh." Mrs Cortland blinked.
"Mrs Darcy?"
On hearing her husband, Elizabeth turned towards him.
"Maybe it is one of the others?" On seeing Elizabeth's frown, he added: "I know the Cortlandts seem to be the only ones around, but she had many names in her booklet, and some of them may not be afraid of killing."
"You could be right," said Elizabeth toughtfuly. "After all, they were only recent victims There may have been someone more desperate."
"There are other victims." Two pairs of eyes focused on Lady Cortlandt. "Well, there were, at least. I was afraid that, when she realised I could not give her more, and this would have happened soon, she would apply herself to ruin us, as she has done to others before."
"Has she?" asked Elizabeth.
"Do you remember that scandal about Miss Barrett last year?"
Darcy nodded. Elizabeth leafed through Mrs Appleton's booklet and stopped at one page, her eyebrows raised.
"She was behind this," Lady Cortlandt went on. "Of course, when it happened, I had no idea about her blackmail scheme, I only know that her gossips were what led the poor girl to be shunned."
Darcy and Elizabeth exchanged a glance.
"Will you think less of me if I tell you that the world is perhaps better without Mrs Appleton in it?" she asked.
"This is not a reason to let her murder go unpunished," he answered.
They escorted Lady Cortlandt to her husband's rooms and gained theirs.
"Should you not have told Lord Cortlandt that you did not believe his confession?"
"He shall know it soon enough."
He had not finished speaking when the door opened, and a very upset Lord Cortlandt came in.
"What did you do to my wife?"
"We only asked her a couple of questions," Darcy answered calmy.
"You had no right!"
"She risks nothing."
"You—I beg your pardon?"
"I do not believe either of you killed Mrs Appleton."
He relaxed somewhat, but some tension remained.
"Neither did she kill Mr Johnson."
At this, Lord Cortlandt started.
"How—"
"Did you never speak of that event with your wife?"
He shook his head.
"You should."
Lord Cortlandt left without a word.
"Now, what shall we do?"
Elizabeth grabbed the papers she had removed from Mrs Appleton's room. "Search more."
Sunday afternoon
Elizabeth had been perusing the documents found in Mrs Appleton's desk and had now put them on the side. Seeing that she was done with her task, Darcy asked:
"Did you learn anything about Mrs Appleton's other victims?"
"Most of them are former classmates whose letters she pilfered and held over them. It is highly unlikely that any of them is involved in her death. Oh, if only Mrs Marsh's initials fitted that entry!"
"Maybe we did it the wrong way, Elizabeth."
"How so?"
"Rather than looking through Mrs Appleton's journal and see what entries fit the guests, how about looking into the past of the people present here and see whether they fit one entry?"
"Including the servants?"
"Yes, if it is possible. Maybe one of them is devoted to one of her victims and has changed positions only to better approach her."
"Very well. We know about the Cortlandts already, let us look into the other's lives."
Darcy nodded and sat to write to his man of business.
Tuesday 30 June, Sunningdale
"Your man's efficiency is admirable," remarked Elizabeth.
In one neat stack was all that Mr Davenport had sent them. She was impressed that he had managed to gather so much information in barely one day. They knew more about the Cortlandts than what appeared in the report, and nothing much was found regarding the Ridgeways or the Scotts: a couple of indiscretions, but nothing that might warrant such a strong reaction as murder, and none of the associated names matched any entry in Mrs Appleton's notebook. There was even less unpalatable information related to her husband and father, but they had not expected that there would be, for after all, it was unlikely that Mrs Appleton would blackmail her family.
"Anything of interest?"
"Yes. Still the Marshes. I can still not find a correspondence with the notebook, so either it was written in code or it is yet another case … but there is something troubling regarding Mrs Marsh's death."
"How did Davenport learn so much, so quickly?"
"Would you believe that he married the lady's abigail?"
Darcy only stared at his wife.
"She was dismissed once her employer died—though perhaps she would not have liked to see her mistress be replaced in any case. Mr Marsh gave her a good sum of money to thank her for her services, and she thought to invest it; this is how she met your Mr Davenport."
"This is extraordinary."
"Anyway, she described the malady of Adele Marsh, and I think it fits arsenic poisoning."
"I thought she had been sick for a long time?"
"Yes," Elizabeth said. "I meant chronic poisoning; she could have ingested small doses day after day, and nothing more than headaches or skin colouration could have been seen. Her maid could notice this—and did, though she did not know the significance of this detail."
"Marsh would have hired a nurse for his wife's headaches?"
"Maybe it was not his main goal. The current Mrs Marsh is rather pretty, and given the situation, he would have been involved in the hiring process."
Darcy scowled. "This is a serious accusation, Elizabeth."
"Which one? Accusing him of murder, or of ungentlemanly behaviour?" she said with a smile that he could not help but return.
"Your hypothesis is sound," he said at last. "However, this is only conjecture."
"We could unearth the first Mrs Marsh's remains in order to conduct some tests," Elizabeth suggested.
"I doubt this will meet with her family's approval," Darcy countered. "Marsh would object if he is guilty, and Ridgeway would not like this either. Have you no other idea?"
Elizabeth shook her head, and he sighed.
"You are confident about your theory?"
"Of course!"
"Will you accompany me for a tour in the graveyard, then?"
A couple of hours later, the drawing-room
When the Darcys stepped in the drawing-room where everyone was gathered before dinner, all eyes turned towards them.
"Good God, what is the matter?" Mr Ridgeway said, conveying the sentiments of everyone present. "You are both literally covered in mud!"
This was only a slight exaggeration. The grass had, by and large, cleaned their shoes, and only some spots of dirt remained on their knees, sleeves, and gloves.
"We went to pay our respects to the first Mrs Marsh in the graveyard," Elizabeth says breezily. "Would you believe that one can find arsenic in a body years after a person died?"
While she spoke, both she and Darcy had their eyes on the Marshes. She was frowning, but he appeared definitely ill at ease.
"Have you something to add, Marsh?" Darcy asked coldly.
"Why should I?" he stammered.
"What is this all about?" interjected Mr Ridgeway.
"I am afraid your sister's death was not natural, Ridgeway. Marsh thought Mrs Appleton had uncovered him, and killed her as well."
The assembled ladies and gentlemen gasped. Mrs Marsh paled, salts were provided. Sir James and Mr Appleton paled.
Mr Marsh was sweating. His mien was confession enough, and he soon spoke.
"What else could I do? Everything had gone without a hitch, and then she threatened to ruin it all!"
"How so?" Elizabeth asked.
"She made a remark a couple of days ago about the convenience of a spouse's death. I could not let her ruin me. I had a box of sweets, it was easy to add powder on it, enough for a couple of pieces to make her die."
"How would you know this?"
"You said it yourself: this is how Adele died. At first I gave her only enough to make her sick, of course, but after a while, I had to give her more. I did not get it right from the first try."
"Now that we have established without a doubt that you killed both Mrs Appleton and the first Mrs Marsh, now would you indulge us and explain to us how you came to this?"
"I tired of Adele soon enough, but the silly creature would not hear of my having liaisons. Well, not unless she could do the same, when she had not given me an heir yet! Hypocrisy, she called it! We had several rows about this, and when she became sick, I thought that it would be a good thing to keep her so in order to be freed from her recriminations. I gave her a little arsenic everyday: not enough to kill her outright, but enough to keep her focused on her health rather than of my comings and goings. She was the one who hired Jane to care after her, and she took my fancy."
"So you killed your wife in order to marry her nurse."
"Of course not! Well," he added on seeing their incredulous glances, "not at first. Had Jane not been so straight-laced and given in to my advances, Adele would not have needed to die. However, Jane was so prim and proper that I had to marry her if I wanted her in my bed. There you are." He shrugged. "It's not as if I married Adele for anything other than money and connections, and I kept those, after all."
Whether Mr Marsh should consider himself lucky or unlucky that looks could not kill was uncertain.
Wednesday 1 July
Marsh had been promptly seized and locked in the cellar after his confession; he would be tried and likely hung. Mrs Marsh had departed—fled would be a more accurate description—and Mr Appleton and Sir James had gone also; Mrs Appleton would be buried on Friday at her husband's estate.
Darcy and Elizabeth were enjoying the calm (and the books) of the library when Mr Ridgeway entered. He did not appear happy.
"I did not say anything yesterday, for there were more serious things that occupied our thoughts, but what were you thinking? How did you dare?"
"I am sorry, Mr Ridgeway, but what are you speaking about?" said Elizabeth, tearing her eyes from a treaty about the local flora.
"I am talking about grave desecration!" he hissed.
"Oh. You can rest easy, then. Nothing of the kind happened." She went back to her book while an unsettled Mr Ridgeway looked at Darcy.
"I had convinced Elizabeth that we had to find another way of proving Marsh's culpability, and eventually we settled on subterfuge," he explained. "She did not find this very elegant, but it served its purpose."
Notes
(1) when the Earldom was created, the people in charge did not agree on a name, and left this as a place-holder in the document, and forgot to replace it. That, or the author was too lazy to make up a name herself.
(2) I have no idea whether this is the Proper Way to realise this test. I just made this up using the following paragraph from Wikipedia:
The first breakthrough in the detection of arsenic poisoning was in 1775 when Carl Wilhelm Scheele discovered a way to change arsenic trioxide to garlic-smelling arsine gas (AsH3), by treating it with nitric acid (HNO3) and combining it with zinc.
As2O3 + 6 Zn + 12 HNO3 → 2 AsH3 + 6 Zn(NO3)2 + 3 H2O
(3) I would have compared her to a lioness, but it is doubtful Darcy would ever have seen a lioness in her natural habitat. No National Geographic Channel yet!