Chapter 24 A Two Way Monologue

"Let the sleuthing commence," Elizabeth remarked wryly.

Mrs Reynolds had arrived, refusing to speak unless the laird of Eilein promised her a safe haven at Càrn Gorm Castle should the events of the day turn nasty. All traces of mirth left Elizabeth's countenance, she managed to keep her expression scrupulously even while she listened to the housekeeper explain that Mrs MacGregor, their Càrn Gorm housekeeper, was Mrs Reynolds trusted friend from her childhood in Matlock village.

Mrs MacGregor had come to Càrn Gorm as lady's maid to the late Lady Eilein, the current laird's grandmother, as a young lass and she had never left, mostly because of her marriage to the young and strapping Highland grieve but her advancement into housekeeper had further sealed her fate.

The women had kept in contact over the years which resulted in Mrs Reynolds immediately knowing what to do as the events had unfolded in the year 1784. She was less certain of what to do at the current moment surrounded by the laird of Eilein and the former Miss Elizabeth Bennet who had every right to be cross.

The Bingleys were naturally present, it was their home after all, and her employer, his wife. The son, Mr George Darcy and his wife Caroline were there as well but neither had been born in 1784 and held no threat to Mrs Reynolds. Of the aforementioned Mr and Mrs Darcy, Mrs Reynolds knew not who to fear the most.

#

Pemberley, 1784

An evening of joy had turned to grief as the lady of the house had been declared deceased along with her newborn son. Lady Anne had always been of a delicate constitution but Mrs Reynolds had not thought her so weak as to be in any particular danger from childbirth. There had been no fever after the birth or Mrs Reynolds might not have questioned the outcome, Lady Anne had appeared drunk, not ailing.

She had been uncommonly sprightly albeit somewhat unsteady when she threw away the cover and insisted on bringing her newborn son to his father herself, a few hours after the blessed event had taken place. The doctor and midwife had protested vehemently and opposed as much as their positions allowed. It was Lady Anne's cousin, Lady Susan, daughter of the earl of Vernon, who had succeeded in herding the bewildered lady back to her bed rest. Refreshments had been ordered and delivered, Lady Anne had calmed down under her cousin's gentle administrations and they had all left her after she had fallen into a restful sleep.

The infant, a healthy-looking boy had long since succumbed to sleep after being nursed by his mother. No kind of threats nor cajoling had swayed Lady Anne from her purpose of nursing her child. A wet nurse had been hired and installed in the nursery which was one of the reasons Lady Anne had a crib moved to her room. Lady Anne might be delicate but she had the Fitzwilliam stubbornness that would never succumb to the will of others.

It had been the maid who tended the fires late in the evening who had raised the alarm at Pemberley. The young girl had worried about the expression on her mistress's countenance. She had encountered Lady Susan in the hallway who had summoned Dr Scott. The physician was still present at Pemberley, resting after supper. He had entered the mistress chamber too late and had pronounced Lady Anne and her son dead. It had been Lady Susan who had alerted the master of Pemberley about his wife's and son's untimely death. A grief-stricken Mr Darcy could not bear the thought of his lovely wife in the clutches of death and had absolutely refused to enter her death bed. Neither could he stomach the thought of seeing his son when all hope was lost. The master had preferred the company of brandy for several days afterwards. The Pemberley servants had barely managed to sober him up to attend the funeral, three days later. The young Miss Darcy had been entirely forgotten had not Lady Susan found it in her heart to care for the motherless little girl. She tended to the little girl's needs while her father vacillated between drinking himself into a stupor and roaming The Peaks alone. By the time he had himself under good regulation, the little girl hardly recognised him and her attachment to Lady Susan had grown into an unbreakable bond.

Eventually, the master, who believed he could never love another lady after his love had passed, had thought he might as well marry the lady his daughter was attached to. He needed an heir, with whom mattered but little.

#

The undertaker had been summoned that very night to collect the bodies. The master, in his grief, had not endured the thought of his love lying under his roof and much less witnessing her demise. He wanted to remember her as he had last seen her, in glowing anticipation of delivering Pemberley's future heir. He had ordered her and his son to be removed to the chapel within a few hours.

"The undertaker in Lambton is my brother, Laird Eilein, he is a meticulous man and although the message from Pemberley had been that the bodies had been tended to, out of respect for the deceased, he wanted to make sure it had been properly done."

"I understand, Mrs Reynolds, although going against direct orders, he held pride in his occupation. I cannot fault a man for wanting to execute his profession to the best of his ability."

"It is not your place to agree or not to any decisions regarding Pemberley."

"Neither is it yours, Mrs Darcy, or have you browbeat your husband into submission?"

"I am in charge of my estate, Fitzwilliam. I have no issue with the undertaker. Please, continue, Mrs Reynolds."

He tried to give his son an encouraging smile but the laird glared back at the man who was supposed to be his father.

The culprit had not yet been revealed and he was of no mind to let any of the Darcys cloud his vision. His eyes travelled briefly to his wife and his fierce glare mellowed into adoration for this woman who had long since captured his heart. To tear his gaze away took immense effort but the sooner this issue had been resolved, the sooner he would be back at Càrn Gorm Castle with his family.

"I knew not what to believe when my brother arrived at the kitchen entrance, demanding me to follow him and I was even more bewildered by what he had discovered. When my brother opened the coffin, who had been nailed shut, I might add, he found a very poor Mrs Darcy and weak infant, not the corpses he had expected. He had not known what to do and fetched me at Pemberley to gauge the situation. It was obvious to me that they were both in a poor condition, particularly the infant who was frightfully cold. We warmed him with heating bottles and fed him watered down goat's milk. It was all we had at our disposal that we could use. The little stomachs usually react badly to cow's milk.

"Mrs Darcy was sick, then she had some frightful seizures, we thought we had lost her several times during the night because we could not feel her heart beat but by divine intervention, she was still alive by daybreak and I had to return to my duties. My brother kept watching over them while I tried to do my work and behave naturally. I was not the housekeeper back then but Lady Anne's lady's maid, I ran to my brother's house when I had the chance. I was not much in demand; Lady Susan had her own lady's maid.

"I was certain of Mr Darcy's guilt when he offered me the position of housekeeper. I suspected he knew that I knew something and used the position as a bribe to silence me. I admit that I feared for my life and accepted mostly because a refusal might raise suspicions. I thought it must be Mr Darcy who had committed this dreadful deed, that he was guilt-ridden and that was why he could not bear to look upon his wife and child after their demise. His was deep in cups, day and night which solidified my initial conjecture. I knew that we could trust no one, at least no one at Pemberley. When it looked like Lady Anne and her babe would survive their ordeal, I needed to think fast. My brother could travel but I could not. What excuse could I have to leave a newly and undeserved position as housekeeper to a grand estate? Eglantine was the only one I trusted with this precious assignment."

"The dowager countess of Matlock's lady's maid? I thought she was dismissed in disgrace?"

Mrs Reynolds scoffed. "Eglantine is the most proper lady I know and the countess knew that. I suspect she knew much more than she let on over the next few years. Her husband's mother lived by Loch Eilein and they were closer than mother and son were. Anyhow, I seem to have digressed... The new Castle of Càrn Gorm had been finished a decade past and it was the only place we knew you would be safe. Remember, I thought your father had tried to murder you both but I was but a servant. Who would believe me? If I went to the magistrate, someone might turn it against me and accuse me. I was Lady Anne's lady's maid and privy to most of her personal affairs. Poison would be easy to administrate for a personal servant. Besides, I was too concerned about saving the mother and child to think properly. I was young and panic-stricken, a fire of dread burned constantly in my chest. I do not know how I could have acted differently."

"I should thank you for saving my wife and child although your suspicions were misplaced. I swear I had nothing to do with the attempted murder of my wife and child."

"I am not gainsaying you, Mr Darcy. After Lady Anne and Fitzwilliam were safely ensconced with the late Lady Eilein, I discovered that it was very unlikely it was you, simply because the witnesses I questioned clandestinely made it clear that you would have had little opportunity. Only the possibility of your innocence and the knowledge that there was a murder loose at Pemberley, convinced me to stay. There was still a child left at Pemberley that needed my protection. If not for that, I would have left a long time ago."

"Will you humour my curiosity to how you have eliminated Mr Darcy, Mrs Reynolds?" Mrs Darcy spoke for the first time since she had arrived.

"He spent the evening locked in his study. The hallway outside is always guarded by at least one footman as it was this evening."

"I am surprised that after twenty-odd years in service at Pemberley, most of them as the housekeeper, that you have not discovered the secret passageway from the study to the master's chamber. The farthest bookshelf by the French doors is not only used to store books. In the history section, behind the tomes of Robertson and Rollins, there is a switch that turns the wall into a narrow spiral staircase. It leads to the cupboard in Mr Darcy's dressing room."

"I was not aware that you knew about the hidden staircase, Mrs Darcy," Mr Darcy replied with no intention of gainsaying his wife.

"I have been mistress of Pemberley for over five and twenty years, it is my business to know these things."

The room grew eerily quiet while the repercussions of this revelation sunk into those who were present. It was strange that although the married couple did not throw accusations at each other, nor were they trying to shift the blame away from their partner. Neither had voiced the opinion that the other was innocent.

"What I do not understand..." the laird mused undeterred by the recent new development "...is why reveal my heritage to me by letter in the summer of 1812 when you had not done so for eight and twenty years?"

"I did not! I did not write to you after my brother died in 1809 until I sent you Miss Bennet's chest. He was the intermediator for my letters to Eglantine and you. I could not correspond openly with you while I was still living at Pemberley, that is why everything had to be addressed to my brother."

"Your brother could not have been an old man?" Elizabeth interjected.

"Thank you, Lady Eilein, no he was not. He did not succumb to old age, nor any ailment. He fell into a grave he was digging; it was shallow but he hit his head on a rock at the bottom. I cannot but think that in addition to macabre it was strange because the digging was not his job to do. It unsettled me enough to not want to jeopardise the whereabouts of the laird..."

"Then who could have written to the laird in your handwriting, I guess you noticed nothing out of the ordinary since you believed it was in Mrs Reynolds hand?"

"No, I had no suspicions although I did not compare it to a previous one, I saw nothing to raise my suspicions," the laird admitted. "It was written in a female hand with phrases I recognised as typical of Mrs Reynolds."

"Do you still have the letter?" Elizabeth inquired.

"Yes, I have it in my study at Càrn Gorm."

"In other words, inaccessible at the moment?"

"Yes, but I doubt we could glean the perpetrator of decades past simply by examining the letter."

"One might wonder to what purpose the letter was sent, what could the culprit mean by stirring up a sleeping beast?"

"I guess if we knew the answer to that we would have our murderer," the laird pronounced while his eyes roamed the occupants of the room. No one seemed out of the ordinary but he did not know his father nor his second wife, well enough to discern. If no one confessed, how would they ever find the guilty of the crime? The laird sighed and let his eyes wander until his wife came into view. She was a much more pleasant sight to behold, blithe and bold, she countenanced every adversity.

"May I accompany you to Loch an Eilein and see Anne?"

"No!" the laird would never allow his father within miles of his mother. It was out of the question.

The wealthy squire inclined his head in defeat. He had not held much hope for a reunion but he could not stomach the thought of not trying.

"Are we done?" Mrs Caroline Darcy wanted to know.

"If no one has anything to add, I guess we are," the squire of Pemberley dejectedly replied. "I would promise you safety, Mrs Reynolds, if you would like to accompany us home, no harm shall befall you for speaking the truth. I doubt the murderer, if there is, in fact, one in our midst, would dare to accost you now that everyone knows about Anne and Fitzwilliam. You should be perfectly safe."

"I thank you, no, Mr Darcy. The thought of retiring has been in the forefront of my mind for some years and I have always wanted to see the Highlands, Eglantine has spoken so eloquently about."

With nothing really settled, the Darcys left for Pemberley, leaving their housekeeper behind.

#

"The frost is coming."

"What! In August?" The laird gazed out the window at the clear blue sky.

"You mark my words, the frost is coming, I ken feel it in my bones." Mr MacGregor raised his chin like a man of age and wisdom who had the guts to pronounce something outrageous with conviction.

"We better hasten to pack and remove ourselves then."

"It is too late, the frost will be here tonight and it will be too cold for the babe in the carriage."

The laird's gaze sought out his baby girl who lay sleeping in her mother's arms. He could not risk her health but the thought of staying in such close proximity to Pemberley made his stomach churn. Mr MacGregor was always right though, regardless of much he loathed to admit it.

"We could travel for shorter days, in the midday heat and forego the cold mornings and chilling evenings. It doubles our journey but I am not staying at Kimberley Heights until after my babe is born," Elizabeth remarked with conviction. She was weary of travel and wanted to be home in time for the birth. If Mr MacGregor worried about frost in August, she very much doubted the next months would improve upon the weather.

"Are you disappointed?" Elizabeth enquired of her husband.

"For what?"

"That the guilty among our guests was not revealed?"

"Yes, I suppose I am, yet, it does no longer affect me as much as it did. I am ready, I think, to put the past behind me although I must admit to some pleasure at the thought of Mr and Mrs Darcy eying each other with suspicion. Their marriage is void, bigamous even, it should avenge some of the unjust my mother has suffered."

"What about your sufferings?"

"I have not suffered. I was brought up in a loving home with wealth most can only dream about. I am married to a goddess and have two, soon to be three, healthy children. I have nothing to repine."

"You are the heir apparent to Pemberley."

"That viper's nest? I am never setting foot there again. The strive for wealth and connections in superior society is one of the reasons I rarely venture to London."

Elizabeth gasped, she had all but forgot about Longbourn. The thought of never seeing her childhood home again hit her like a punch in the gut. She had come so close, yet it was out of reach. She knew it would be different, that it was no longer her home, but still...

Her husband enveloped her in his arms whilst Mr MacGregor quietly left the room.

"What has you so unsettled, dear?"

"It is nothing..."

"I do not believe you."

Elizabeth sighed, "I just remembered that I have yet to see Longbourn."

"We could go..."

"With the frost coming?"

"It is August, if the frost should arrive this early in the year, I doubt it will last until next spring."

Elizabeth delved deeper into her husband's embrace. She loved this man who she had once hated with a vengeance, swore to loathe for all eternity and escape as soon as an opportunity arose.