Notes: To the reviewers who have pointed out necessary corrections, I will try to get to those as soon as I can. To "guest": Kent is southeast of London, on the southern side of the Thames river as it feeds into the Channel. Your other corrections are correct (at least those I've read thus far).
Chapter Eighteen – Habeas Corporeal
"You know this woman, Darcy?" Andrew Fitzwilliam, Lord Townbridge asked. Mr. Budge stuck his thumbs in the straps of his suspenders and waited as well.
"Yes," Darcy all but growled. "She was my sister's companion. It turned out that she was in-deep with George Wickham... As a matter of fact, if she was here then it is almost certain that Wickham was here as well."
"'oo is this Wickham character, Sirs?"
Darcy's jaws bunch as he struggled with his rage, so Andrew answered, "He was once the son of the Darcy's steward and the godson of the elder Mr. Darcy before that worthy passed on. The father was a good man but the son is a reprobate, a gambler, a womanizer, and a swindler... and those are probably his better qualities."
"D'you think that man might be the one did fer this woman?"
Andrew looked at Darcy, who found his voice, "I don't see it, Andrew. George was many things but not the murdering type."
"That was then, Darce. You knew him best as a boy and a young man. Since then he has been living around the dregs of society. That can change any man, especially one who already displayed a complete lack of moral fiber."
Darcy shook his head, "No, I don't see it. After... when Mrs. Younge's credentials came into question a while ago, I commissioned a thorough investigation into the woman. Her married name was Mrs. Younge, the young wife of Edward Younge, a prosperous merchant in Leeds who died suddenly in '04 under questionable circumstances. They had only been married for four months. Her maiden name was Doris Donovan and she was a teacher at a local girl's school..." Mr. Darcy's explanation was interrupted when Mr. Bennet began pounding on the door of his holding room and calling for attention.
Grumbling, Mr. Budge went to the door and reluctantly opened it. Before he could scold the man, Mr. Bennet spoke, "Son, could you please repeat the names you just said? Having nothing else to do, I have been listening through the door."
"See here, Mr. Bennet..." Budge began, but Mr. Darcy replied, "Mrs. Younge was married to Edward Younge. Her maiden name was Doris Donovan."
Mr. Bennet gripped his door to steady himself, causing Andrew and Darcy to move forward to help. He smirked and waved them off, "I am well... just shocked." He turned to Mr. Budge, "Constable, could you please send for Mr. Turnbull? I have important information about this case... and my own."
oOo
Matthew Piper did not visit his father after all, and for good reason: his express delivery to Sheerness had revealed information which required intervention by a person of much greater authority than he possessed. With regret he took the fork northwest to London and bypassed his anticipated visit.
After changing horses twice, Matthew requested admission into the offices of Lord Thomas Pelham, Earl of Chichester and the man who controlled the Post. Matthew felt flattered when the man stood and extended a hand, "Mr. Piper! So good to see you. I have been intending to send for you to sit down and take a look at what you came up with for a training plan. Is this why you are paying me a visit?"
Matthew shook his head, "No, your Lordship. I would welcome the opportunity to do what you said, but this is a different matter... and a matter on which I request your guidance..." The rider went on to describe his last few days and the several instances where he interacted with the Bennet family. "... so you see, your Lordship, while I sat there I studied that painting. A very fine looking family..."
The earl was a busy man and while Matthew was a decent story teller, he had yet to see the point of the man's tale, "Yes, yes, Mr. Piper. A fine family indeed. I have read the Times myself and the writer seemed to wax eloquent about them. From his description you would think that the murdered Mrs. Bennet was a veritable angel..."
"That's just it, your Lordship! She isn't dead!"
The Earl straightened, "You will have to explain that statement, young man."
"I just rode here from Sheerness, Lord Pelham. I carried an express all the way there in hopes of visiting my Pa before returning... but the woman who received the express was the same woman in the painting, your Lordship!"
"Are you certain?"
"Yessir. I seen the eldest daughter, the one that is married to Lord Townbridge, more than once. A man does not forget a woman like that. She takes after her mother, she does... and so I had no problem identifying the mother. Same hair, same eyes, same beauty... only older. It has to be her! And sir... she is with-child."
"Good God, man! Was the woman confined or in distress? Was she being held against her will?"
"Not as I could see... there was a man with her fer just a moment... a dapper fellow. He had somethin' wrong with his face... healing scars like scratches on one side. But she came out of the cottage bold as you please to take the message. Uppity sort, not like her daughters..."
Lord Pelham gathered his overcoat and top hat, "Come with me, Mr. Piper. We need to make a visit to the Lord Chancellor."
oOo
"... when we arrived in Leeds for the reading of the will, the solicitor was Mr. Donovan. My wife, her brother, and sister had been close to Edward when they were Younge. He was their mother's older brother and a very good man. In fact it was Edward Younge who provided Mr. Edward Gardiner with his start in trade and the girls with their dowries," Thomas Bennet explained.
"We were all surprised to learn that Edward... Mr. Younge, had married only four months before his death, and to a young woman with no connections or dowry. The thing is, we had previously received reports of his progressive senility. We even went so far as to send letters asking if he would consider living with us, but our letters were ignored. Then we were notified of his passing."
"So you knew this woman?" Mr. Turnbull demanded. "That suggests that you had motive to murder her too."
"Mister Turnbull," Darcy interjected with all of the authority he was used to exercising, "Are you a magistrate, intent on seeing justice done, or are you merely a man looking to bolster his own future?"
"Now see here...!" Turnbull blustered, but Andrew chose to exert his own new authority, "Mister Turnbull, I am a Viscount and my father is the Earl of Matlock. My own home in Town is three houses away from that of my second cousin, Lord John Scott, Baron Eldon... who you know as the Lord Chancellor. Whether you seek justice or just notice, mishandling of this case will not give you what you seek.
Now, I know that a certain brilliant young woman, my sister-in-law, has attempted to point out several key points. The first: there is no body. The second: there is only evidence that Mrs. Bennet came to harm is a blood-stained shawl. This shawl was known to have been ripped the previous year. According to both my wife and my sister-in-law, it is unthinkable that Mrs. Bennet would choose to wear a damaged shawl out in public. It is much more likely that she tossed it into a donation bin. The third: Mr. Bennet was severly injured while riding a horse last year. Since then he has been unable to mount a horse and he cannot walk without intense pain. Therefore it is unlikely in the extreme that he walked the distance of over two miles on an uphill grade to commit murder.
"I will add a fourth important point: Mr. Bennet, yesterday I sat in your study with Mr. Darcy to discuss what we knew and needed to know. While there I noticed that your top shelves were empty while there were books piled on your desk and on the floor. Could you please explain why that is?"
Mr. Bennet grimaced, "I had Mr. Hill do that because I did not wish to have to ring for him every time that I wished to to read or reference a book from those shelves. You see, ever since the accident I have no strength to lift anything above my shoulders."
"So you could not, for example, lift a rock weighing ten pounds above your head to bring it crashing down on your wife's... or Mrs. Younge's head?"
Mr. Bennet chuckled, "Though I might have the temptation, I certainly would not have the capability." All eyes pointed to Mr. Turnbull and the man visibly deflated.
"Let us suppose for the moment that I concede your points, Your Lordship," Turnbull ungraciously admitted, "I want to hear the rest of the story about this inheritance."
The Master of Longbourn paused to collect his thoughts, then began, "When we arrived, it was to learn that the first reading of the will had already taken place, the bulk of the assets had been liquidated, and Mrs. Younge had departed for parts unknown. We were not even notified of Mr. Younge's death until two weeks after the event. By the time we arrived, another family was moving into his home and another man owned his business. The only inheritance that my wife and her siblings received were those items set aside in a safe-deposit box.
"The solicitor who handled the exchange was a junior partner who disclaimed any part in the reading. His employer had also suddenly died just around the same time as my wife's uncle. Mr. Donovan claimed that he was doing his best to sort out the confusion that his senior's death had left behind. At the time only Mr. Gardiner thought to ask for the personal information of Mrs. Younge. He was given a false name for the lady.
"My brother-in-law continued to investigate after we all returned home. It took six months, but one of his best men uncovered the fact that Mrs. Younge was actually the younger sister of Mr. Donovan. Unfortunately, by the time that was discovered, both the solicitor and his sister were nowhere to be found."
Darcy interjected, "Can you think of any reason that Doris Donovan would be in this neighborhood?"
Mr. Bennet pondered this for a moment and his face suddenly turned sullen. Andrew prompted, "Mr. Bennet?"
The older man looked up with a mixture of anger and embarrassment, "We stayed in Leeds for two weeks while I, Mr. Gardiner, and Mr. Phillips tried to sift through the facts. Mr. Donovan was a handsome, dapper sort of man... and my wife became entirely too interested in the man. She had always been a bit of a flirt, so I did not think much of it until the day I arrived back at our lodgings early and found all of my girls playing out in the yard... and discovered Fanny and Donovan alone inside. There was nothing happening at the moment, but their behavior when I arrived was suspicious."
All of the men in the room, even Turnbull, looked down or away. This could not be an easy admission for any husband to make. Bennet continued, "We left the next day and I thought that was the end of it, but two months later Mrs. Bennet announced that she was with-child... Until that point, at least for the past three or four years, it had always been me visiting her. But this time it was Fanny who was the aggressor. At the time I assumed it was her attempt to reassure me of her affections. After she announced her pregnancy, I began to have suspicions. I resolved to wait until the child was born to see if he or she had Bennet features... only the babe miscarried in the fifth month."
He sighed, "That signaled the end of any affections between us. Since then we have become virtual strangers. She became increasingly difficult and odd in her behaviors toward our daughters until I finally removed each of them from her care. So when she took off, I will admit that I felt neither the responsibility nor the desire to search for her. Mr. Turnbull, I do not care for Frances Bennet, but I would not murder her." He was silent for a long minute and then something seemed to come to mind and he chuckled.
"What amuses you, Mr. Bennet?" Mr. Darcy was the one to ask.
"Only that it was at the end of that trip where my Lizzy-girl met your aunt." He told everyone the story as Elizabeth had related it and then told of Lady Catherine's visit years later. Darcy was especially interested in the tale, as he was about anything related to Elizabeth.
As if the telling of their tale had conjured the ladies, Lady Catherine and Elizabeth barged into the constable's building. It was the grand lady who spoke, "Darcy, you received an express from Mrs. Thompson." Darcy took the message and saw that it had been opened. His irritation with his aunt was immediately forgotten as he read the message. Looking up, he asked, "Elizabeth, have you read this?"
She shook her head, blushing at his familiar address, but responded, "Lady Catherine informed me of the contents, but I did not read it myself."
Darcy looked at the men in the room, "Mr. Turnbull, I have to leave for London immediately. Mr. Wickham, the man most intimately connected with Mrs. Younge, to my knowledge, has been sniffing around those who I care about."
"Mrs. Younge?" Elizabeth inquired, not understanding his mention of her.
Without thinking, Darcy took Elizabeth's hands, "I will have to leave Andrew to fill you in on the details. I believe that your father is now a free man?" His statement, more a question, was aimed at Turnbull. The man reluctantly nodded. Darcy turned his attention back to Elizabeth, who was very aware that this confusing man still had possession of her hands, "I will leave your father and Andrew to explain. The most important issue is that there had been a murderer and he or she is still out there... so please be careful until I return."
Darcy was out of the constable's office in a flash, leaving a bewildered Elizabeth and several speculative onlookers behind. Mr. Bennet raised an eyebrow at his daughter, but spoke to the others, "I don't suppose that I can count on everyone to keep that little display quiet until the man returns to make his intentions clear?"
He saw the constable's face and knew it was pointless. Mr. Budge was a worse gossip than his wife and her sister combined.
oOo
Author's notes: The case will be over soon, but the story of our two lovers is not yet told. Please be patient with me.