A.N. Thank you, Happy Lizzy, Dizzy Lizzy, Levenez, MsTheKlucha, Colleen, Crispill, Jansfamily, Joan, liysyl, Ipinney, Kiwipride and guest for comment and correction. Joan, I haven't completed my download with Deepest Desires, Deadliest Hate, so you have time to continue reading. (usually, I like to download all the comments as a record. I love reading them to get some encouragement from time to time)
Good that some of you saw the humour in the story. I tried to inject some funny bits to make it less serious. We all need a laugh in such days. Now let us see how naughty Wickham can be in this new chapter. Happy reading, stay safe! Cheers Enid
Chapter Eight
Elizabeth slipped out of the small laboratory. She had left Maria's shawls inside, but it couldn't be helped - she didn't want to appear as if she were getting ready to depart. She did not want Dr. Wickham interfering in her leaving for the Collins residence, to get the herbs for Mr. Collins.
She was making her way to the front door when she heard the door to the laboratory open behind her. Abruptly she changed her path and slipped behind a curtain. Dr. Wickham said in a hurried purr, "Stay, Caroline, I have an errand to attend to. I'd be back shortly." This was followed by the soft closing of a door, probably of the laboratory. Elizabeth wondered when the doctor and the widow became in such friendly term. She then heard the doctor rushed past the office, swearing as he went by.
She did not want to slip out until he got back - she didn't want to run into him on the street. She stood, restless, and went to the bookshelves.
"Covered in dust," she remarked to herself in disgust. Her eyes lighted on a medical textbook, still in fine condition. She pulled it out and opened it. On the inside leaf was written "Dr. George Wickham" in an elaborate, swirling hand.
She turned the pages. Much of the first chapter was filled with notes, and many of the passages were underlined, but these markings stopped after about halfway through it. Elizabeth turned to the second chapter to see if the notes resumed. There was nothing. She turned page after page in the book until she reached the end, finding no more signs whatsoever of diligent study.
"Has he even read it?" though Elizabeth. She wanted to hurl the book at Wickham. How lazy he must be, to have given up so quickly!
Then she realized, perhaps, he had gotten the book from someone else and the notes were not his. She checked the handwriting of the notes to the signature at the front. Although the signature was more elaborate, the "k"s, "y"s and "a"s of the notes were all distinctly formed and matched the signature. Elizabeth put the book back on the shelf and looked for another. She found another textbook on chemistry. Again, Dr. Wickham's signature was on the front leaf, and the notes stopped halfway through the first chapter.
Elizabeth slammed the book shut and put it back on the shelf. She knew this new evidence that Dr. Wickham was not as knowledgeable as he said would be scorned by Lady Catherine, but if only there was someone who would listen to her!
Just then Dr. Wickham returned, looking a bit agitated. He was started to see Elizabeth but bowed slightly to her on his way back to the laboratory, and closed the door behind him. Elizabeth waited a few heartbeats until she heard his and Mrs. Bingley's voices faintly from inside the room, and then she hurried to the front door and looked out onto the street. Mr. Denny was nowhere in sight, and the one window in the room Dr. Wickham and Mrs. Bingley were in looked out onto the alley behind the office. She hurried to the stables and made her way to the Collins's residence.
With experience, she dismounted Beatrice in much better ease at the stables. In her haste, she had forgotten money, and would have to just take the herbs from the apothecary shop without paying. She decided to enter through the house instead, and explained her situation to one of the servants.
She knocked on the front door of the Collins's home, and the door was opened by a servant girl with large eyes and a nervous energy.
"Excuse me, Joanna," said Elizabeth, remembering her name. "I've come on urgent business for Mrs. Collins."
Joanna let her inside. "Is everything all right, Miss?" she asked. "We didn't understand why the family's been away so long without sending word."
Elizabeth paused, not wanting to worry her. "Mr. Collins was taken a bit ill at Rosings," she said. "He had to have a tooth removed."
"Oh gracious!"
"And he's healing, but Mrs. Collins is caring for him and sent me to get some herbs for him. I've forgotten my money, and I expect the shop clerk doesn't know me and shouldn't take my word for it that I know Mr. and Mrs. Collins."
"Oh of course," said Joanna, hurrying to the inside door that led to the shop.
"I'll explain it right away to Bob. There's no need to pay if you're getting things for the Mistress."
Elizabeth followed her inside the apothecary shop. It smelled spicily of numerous herbs: a dry sleepy smell. A young clerk was standing behind the counter, staring at the floor as if it was telling him all the secrets of the world. He looked up and saw Joanna and turned scarlet. She turned scarlet too, and started pinching at her skirt as she spoke.
"Bob, this is Miss Bennet, a guest of Mr. and Mrs. Collins," she said. "She said that Mr. Collins had a tooth out and that's why they haven't come home yet from Rosings Park. Mrs. Collins sent her to bring back some herbs."
Bob nodded awkwardly. "What herbs did you need, Miss?"
"Feverfew and turmeric," said Elizabeth, pausing for a moment before she spoke to remember the odd names.
Bob went to a shelf behind the counter and took large two jars off of it. Then he took two smaller jars from underneath the counter and poured some of the feverfew and the turmeric into each. Just as he was finishing, the sound of a loud crash came through the wall behind them.
Bob looked frozen, and so did Joanna.
"What's behind this wall?" asked Elizabeth.
"The storage room," stammering Bob.
"How do we get in?" asked Elizabeth, suddenly realizing what Dr. Wickham's errands was.
"We..we…" said Bob, looking at Elizabeth as if she were not perhaps right in the head. "It's to the right, there. That door. But Miss -" he protested as she strode over to it. "It sounds as if someone's breaking in! You mustn't -"
Elizabeth opened the door to a small closet filled with jars and boxes. There was a small window on the far side of it. It had been smashed: glass lay strewn across the floor of the room.
"There's no one in here!" called Elizabeth.
"Did something fall?' asked Joanna. She and Bob came up behind Elizabeth to peer in.
"No, it's been broken into," said Elizabeth.
Bob let out a sound like a fish out of water.
"Did they take anything?" wondered Elizabeth aloud. "Is there money stored in here?"
"No, Miss," said Bob. He looked around as well. "They've just taken the leeches!"
Elizabeth's blood ran cold. Her guess was right! Dr. Wickham must have left earlier to arrange for stealing the leeches from the Collins's shop. "I must go," she said, angrily to herself. "At once."
She hurried back to the counter and they followed her. Bob stuffed corks into the openings of the jars hastily for her. As Joanna and Elizabeth were turning towards the house, the front window of the shop burst into pieces. A brick landed with a loud thud on the floor of the shop.
"Come into the house with me, hurry," said Elizabeth. "If they come inside they'll be violent."
They dashed inside the house and locked the door. Through the front windows of the house, Elizabeth could see three men with cloth covering their mouth and in shaggy clothes running away.
"I'm so sorry to leave you suddenly," said Elizabeth, "but I must return to Rosings Park at once. I can't explain."
"Never mind about us, Miss," said Joanna. "But do be careful!"
"I will and you two take care as well," promised Elizabeth, and hurried outside to the stables. Beatrice was an excellent horse. She avoided the main road in the woods. When she rode into Rosings Park, she didn't see Dr. Wickham's carriage yet..
"Dear Maria," whispered Elizabeth to herself and veered off to the stables, out of sight. "Please have the sense to not be sitting in the drawing room."
She dismounted at the stables, and hurried back inside the house through the door she had entered by. Charlotte met her in the hall, and pulled her around the corner out of sight.
"Maria went into the library as a precaution. Were you successful?"
"Partially," said Elizabeth somberly, taking the herbs out of the bag she still carried. "I was able to kill the leeches at Dr Wickham's office, but while I was getting the feverfew and turmeric from the apothecary shop, it was vandalized - and Mr. Collins's leeches were stolen."
Charlotte's eyes widened, horrified. "Did you see who did it?"
"Three ruffians, I did not see their faces."
"Dr. Wickham must have ordered it," Charlotte said.
"I think so as well," said Elizabeth grimly. "The thugs did not steal anything beside the leeches, but two windows were smashed."
"Troubles we will face another day," said Charlotte. "I'll hurry upstairs and bring these to William, you must warn Maria as soon as possible."
Elizabeth nodded, and they parted ways. She hurried along the hallway until she reached the library. As she entered, Maria, who had been sitting and staring out the window, stood up suddenly with an expression like a frightened rabbit.
"Oh, it's you, Elizabeth," she said, relieved. "Am I safe?"
Elizabeth shook her head, dismayed by the look of alarm that came over Maria's face. "I killed Dr. Wickham's leeches," she said. "But thugs stole the leeches from the apothecary shop while I was there, and I think Dr. Wickham either has them in his possession, or will very soon."
Maria nodded. "Off I go then!" she said with forced cheerfulness, and went to open the secret passage. There was a low fire burning in the library fireplace, and Elizabeth lit a torch by it and handed it to Maria. Inside the passage, after a few minutes walk, Maria had arranged pillows, a blanket, and various candles. Maria seemed to have taken time to clean up the cobwebs and dust. It would have made a lovely set-up for a picnic, but it looked rather dismal against the dank dark of the old passageway.
Elizabeth hugged Maria tightly. "Good luck," she whispered, and went to close the bookshelf door. It swung to, and Maria smiled bravely at her and waved until she was no longer in sight.
Elizabeth sighed, feeling suddenly alone. Maria could not stay trapped in the passage forever. Whatever were they going to do?
~0~
As Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam rode through, they passed the apothecary shop, and saw the vandalism that had in fact been witnessed by Elizabeth less than an hour before.
"Stop the horse, Richard!" Darcy shouted.
Darcy and Richard dismounted. They went into the apothecary shop, where they found two rough men leaning on the counter and taunting the clerk, a pale young man with a gnome-like countenance who looked very distressed.
"What's going on here?" asked Darcy in a commanding voice.
The two men turned, and flashed grimy, taunting smiles at Darcy and the Colonel.
"We're just here to buy something from young Bob here," said the taller of the two thugs.
"Did these two men vandalise this store?" asked Richard, speaking to the clerk.
Bob just stared at Richard, and then at the thugs, too nervous to speak.
"Step away from the counter, gentleman," said Richard, letting just a touch of irony into his voice on the last word.
"Who are you? How are you going to make me?" said the second thug, walking over to Richard like he intended to shove him. It was a pity Richard didn't wear his uniform. Their trunks would follow by Darcy's carriage.
"I rely merely upon your good natures to comply with my request," said Richard smoothly, pulling a pistol out of his pocket and pointing it at the men.
Their expressions soured. They slowly moved away from the counter, and stood in front of a large wooden shelving unit covered in various glass bottles.
"Now," said Richard pleasantly, turning back to the clerk, "were these men the ones who vandalized this shop?"
"I couldn't say for sure, sir," said Bob in a voice that matched his countenance, "I didn't see the faces of the men who smashed the windows. But Joanna, the maid of the Collins's might."
"Then I shall go next door and ask that servant to come here to identify these men," said Darcy.
Bob nodded. "The fastest way is through this door here, sir." He gestured to a door to the left of the counter, and Darcy and Richard glanced at it as he did so.
In that brief moment, the thugs took their chance. They rushed to the far side of the shelf behind them, and shoved it over onto the ground. It fell with a deafening crash, sending shards of glass all across the floor.
In the confusion, the two thugs raced for the door and were gone almost before the shelf had finished falling.
"Damn!" cried Richard. "I'm not about to shoot them with their backs turned. I bet they were counting on that."
Darcy considered racing after them for a moment, but he knew by the time he either made it over the fallen shelving unit - which was covering almost all of the shop floor - or made it through the unknown passages of the house next door out onto the street, the men would be gone.
"We'll pay for the loss this establishment has suffered," said Darcy, turning back to the clerk, who now looked absolutely terrified.
"Indeed," said Richard, sadly surveying the glass pieces and spilled powders that covered the entire floor of the shop. "I don't think they would have done that if we hadn't come in. It's our fault, really."
The poor young man was still speechless, so Darcy continued. "My name is Fitzwilliam Darcy," he said, "and this is Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam. You will be able to find us at Rosings Park if there's any more trouble. Otherwise I shall send my man here tomorrow to get an estimate of what the damages will cost."
Bob nodded. "Thank you," he managed.
"Don't mention it!" said Richard cheerily. "We'll be on our way now, but we'll keep an eye out for those thugs. They're sure to be arrested now that they have three witnesses to at least one act of vandalism."
"Better lock the door and close up shop for the day," said Darcy kindly.
The travellers took their leave.
They sped along the road towards Lady Catherine's estate. In the middle of the forest on the way there, they saw a huge tree lying across the road, and a group of four thugs standing in front of it, brandishing clubs.
Darcy and the Colonel walked over to the men barring their way.
"How soon will this tree be cleared, my good men?" asked Richard cheerfully.
"Never," said one of the thugs.
None of them seemed to look the same men who had vandalized the apothecary's shop. This was bad on two accounts, thought Darcy. One, if the vandals had been there, he and Richard could have sent back to the authorities and had them arrested. Two, this meant that Wickham had at least six men working for him.
'Wickham must really be getting a substantial amount of funds from Lady Catherine to be able to afford all of this outside help,' thought Darcy. Aloud, he said, "Are we to understand that you have intentionally blocked our way into Rosings Park?'
"You are to understand that, yes," said another one of the men mockingly.
"By whose order?" asked Darcy.
"By the order of Lady Catherine."
"We are here by the request of Lady Catherine," said Richard. "We are her relations: Fitzwilliam Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam."
"Never heard of you," jeered the first thug. "We've been ordered not to let anybody pass."
Richard and Darcy exchanged a glance, then walked back over to their horses to converse in private.
"This is certainly Wickham's doing," said Richard. "I doubt Lady Catherine even knows these men are here."
"Agreed," said Darcy grimly. "And he's working quickly. It concerns me that he has gone to so much trouble to prevent anyone from entering Rosings Park. I suspect that he has taken this precaution in case I saw past his fake letter. He does not want me to arrive." Darcy felt, along with his frustration, a sense of satisfaction that Dr. Wickham feared him enough to go to all this trouble.
"What can we do?" asked Richard. "We must somehow get past these men, or convince them to depart. I don't expect they will listen to polite requests, and I don't believe I should attempt to threaten them with a gun. I don't wish to actually kill them and there's no one nearby to help us if they see past my bluff and attack us."
Darcy nodded. "We'll have to get to Rosings Park another way. Through the woods perhaps. Wickham can't stop us forever."
"He certainly cannot," said Richard. "But you're right. Let us return to the village and see what we can do about these men."
The thugs jeered and booed as Richard and Darcy rode away.
"What is our next move to be?" said Richard, more thinking out loud than asking the question.
"We must alert the authorities," said Darcy. "Wickham does not have the right to block a public road - even on Lady Catherine's orders, which we both are sure he is not acting on."
They soon reached the village. But what they saw when they arrived was not what they expected. A small crowd of men surrounded the entrance to the village, forming a semi-circle across the road. They looked angry and aggressive: ready to fight, and many of them held weapons more dangerous than clubs. Darcy noted two pitchforks and three long knives, as well as one man brandishing a heavy chain.
"I've changed my mind," said Richard breezily. "Wickham shall rot in prison for the rest of his days." He yelled out. "Good afternoon, gentleman! Might I inquire as to the nature of your gathering?"
"Who are you?" asked a large man at the front, with an imposing scowl on his dirty face.
"Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam and Fitzwilliam Darcy," said Darcy.
"Well, how convenient," said the large man.
"I'm happy our presence is of aid to you somehow," said Richard. "Would you care to explain why our arrival is convenient?"
"So that we can force you to leave that much sooner," shouted another man from the back of the crowd.
Darcy raised inquiring eyebrows at the large man, who responded with a scowl. "We've been told that you're carrying a deadly disease," he said, "and that you've been recklessly spreading it to village after village as you travelled here from London. If you don't rode straight through and get out of our village as soon as possible, we shall all see that you don't take many steps towards our women and children."
"Or steps towards anybody ever again," growled a wiry, older man from the midst of the crowd.
"There's certainly nothing we can do about this," said Richard to Darcy, backing the horse away.
"You are correct," said Darcy. "We'll have to circle back later on today when this crowd has dispersed.
They started forward, and the men formed two lines alongside the road. They brandished their weapons and cast threatening glances at the travellers.
"I wish you'd also brought a gun," muttered Richard.
"I have no intention of killing anyone," said Darcy. "At any point in my life."
"Death is the worst necessity of life," said Richard. "But I approve of your standards."
When they had travelled almost out of the village, they heard a shout.
"Blast it, they're back," said Richard.
"Mr. Darcy! Mr. Darcy!" it was a man's voice, eager and out of breath.
Darcy reined in his horse and turned to the sound of the shouts.
"Andrews," he greeted.
Jack Andrews had appeared, huffing and puffing, his hat clutched in his hand.
"What on earth are you doing here?"
He stood panting for a moment, stammering out various words such as "the thugs" and "I was on my way."
"Give yourself a moment, man," said Richard.
"He's the one who brought me the letter yesterday evening."
"And who heard Lady Catherine's words and spoke up about them," said Richard. "Well done, man."
Jack smiled, and took one more deep breath before beginning his story. "I left Darcy Hall early this morning, almost as soon as it was light. I was in no particular hurry to be back, since I don't see how I can be of help at Rosings Park anyway, so I took my time a bit, as it were."
"You still made excellent time," encouraged Richard.
"I reached the village about half an hour ago," said Jack. "I decided to stop for a meal at the Red Rabbit, since by that time I'd have missed the servant's meal at Rosings Park. While I was there, quietly sipping my ale in the corner, I overheard a group of men."
Jack took a deep breath, almost as if for dramatic effect. "They were talking about Rosings Park, so I scooted closer with my ears pricked. One of them was saying that Dr. Wickham had paid him to stir up the eastern side of the village, and tell them that if Mr. Darcy was to come through, he was carrying a deadly disease and must be stopped at all costs."
"What a blaggard!" cried Richard.
"He is," agreed Jack. "I know him - a big burly fellow with more bluster than brains."
"Actually, I was referring to Wickham," said Richard. "Who coincidentally, went to school with me -"
"Richard," said Darcy.
"Of course," said Richard. "But I was about to say that I do believe we met this man you're describing, leading a crowd of ruffians on the other side of the village. I can agree with your assessment of him."
"You've already met them, then?" said Jack. "That's bad luck, but at least I found you before you left the village."
"Why?" asked Richard. "Is there somewhere here we can hide from that mob?"
Jack shook his head. "That's the other part of the story. The innkeeper of the Red Rabbit - a fine chap by the name of Stevens, I also knew him -"
"Andrews," said Richard and Darcy together.
"Right. Stevens heard what these scoundrels were saying as well. Once they'd gone, he came over to me and said, 'That Dr. Wickham is no good. He gave my daughter a tonic last week that made her sick for days, claiming it was a cure for headaches. He also called on Mrs. Patterson last Saturday, and whatever he put on the cut on her finger caused it to swell up. She went to the apothecary's to get it sorted, otherwise who knows what would have happened -'"
"We understand the gist, Wickham's made enemies of the wiser townspeople," said Richard with a twinkle in his eye, noting the impatience on Darcy's face.
"Yes," continued Jack. "So Stevens said that whatever Wickham told those men to do, it must be to no good purpose. 'I'm going to alert the neighbours,' he said. 'Let them know Wickham's plotting some wickedness against Lady Catherine's nephew and make sure they're on hand to prevent it.'"
"We don't want to be the cause of a civil war within the village," said Fitzwilliam.
"Well, that's the other thing," said Jack. "All those thugs live on the eastern side, closer to Rosings Park. The village has always been a bit divided anyway. It's unlikely any of them will come here to stir up trouble, and they don't really consider this part of the village, the west, their home. You should be safe enough over here."
"We should lie low regardless, under the circumstances," said Darcy. "But that is good news, at least as far as our present plight is concerned. Thank you, Andrews."
"Don't mention it," said Jack, grinning.
"Let's bunker at the Red Rabbit," said Richard, "come on up, Andrews." He pulled the young lad up to share the horse. They passed through a few more streets, until they came to a quaint little inn with red shutters and a sign above its door that was cut in the shape of a running rabbit.
Jack got down first, and looked around to see if anyone was looking on. "Coast is clear as far as I can see," said Jack. "And anyway, I'm not worried about the people in this half of the town, I just want to be sure the easterners haven't sent spies out after us."