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Chapter 19

Elizabeth's thought was immediately turned to protecting Lady Anne, now possibly in Mrs King's body. It was only around fourteen hours since Lady Anne showed signs of a living person at the guest chamber in Pemberley. If Mrs King was harmed by Mrs. Bingley during the remaining ten hours, Lady Anne would have no chance to resurrect. Elizabeth immediately formulated some plans.

"Mr Darcy," she addressed Fitzwilliam with a pointed look, "do you need a stretcher, or can you carry Mrs. King to the carriage? Mrs. King is Mary's aunt. I've known Mary all my life. She lives in Meryton."

"Mrs. King's neck and bone do not seem to have broken," Fitzwilliam nodded and replied. "Rob and I can carry her to our carriage."

"Oh, you don't want to dirty your carriage with some stranger's blood," Lady Matlock exclaimed.

"Nonsense, Augusta, the blood can be washed," Mr. George Darcy said, noting the pointed exchange between his son and Miss Elizabeth. He didn't know what was happening, but it seemed the younger couple would like to take the injured away from Mrs. Bingley as quickly as possible. He was happy to facilitate that. It also appeared to be the most sensible thing to do to give a hand to the injured. "Our carriage has excellent springs and fast horses. Miss Mary," he addressed Mary King. "I am sorry for your loss. What is your aunt's name? You must go with her in our carriage and speak to her. She may respond to your voice." Then he turned to instruct his postillion. "Rob, after you help Master Darcy with Mrs. King, you go by horseback to the inn we stopped previously. Secure rooms, a doctor, and send for help transporting Mr. King's body."

"Aye, Sir!" Rob replied.

Mary said amid sobs, "Thank you, Sir. My aunt is called Sarah. My uncle wouldn't have died if it hadn't been for me. I'm responsible. I don't know if Aunt Sarah would want to hear my voice. I cause my uncle's death."

"You are overdraught, Mary," Elizabeth said. "Let's get your aunt into the comfort of Darcy's carriage first. I will go with you, and you can tell me why you made this journey. It is not your fault. It is just an accident."

"I am positive that it is their fault," Mrs. Bingley spoke for the first time and rather angrily. The feathers on her head bobbed forward and backward in great motions. "Their carriage was travelling in the middle of the road, not caring who would be coming in the other direction. My coachman is thrown and dead because of them. My carriage's wheel broke and I'm quite shaken by the incident."

"Oh, Daisy, then we must travel with the Darcy carriage and have the doctor see you as well. But are you travelling alone? Where is Mr. Bingley?" Lady Matlock came closer to Mrs. Bingley, trying to wrap her hand in the latter's arm, but Mrs. Bingley threw her hands in the air, "Oh, that spoilt sport said he's bored with Middlesbrough and left yesterday. He said he was visiting Matlock. Have you not seen him?"

"Mr. Darcy invited us to stay at Pemberley," Lady Matlock said. "But David went back to Matlock due to a fire. He would be there to welcome John."

Elizabeth thought frantically about how to prevent Mrs. Bingley from boarding the Darcy carriage with them and harming Mrs. King. But Mr. Darcy beat her on the task. "Mrs. Bingley, are you hurt?" The woman shook her head. "But I am quite shaken."

Mr. Darcy signalled for his coachman to fetch two blankets, some wine and food from the carriage and continued, "Have a seat over there with Augusta and have some wine to calm your nerve. We should let Fitzwilliam, Miss King and Miss Elizabeth take Mrs. King to go first. They must travel slowly due to Mrs. King's injury. Miss King would be comforted by Miss Elizabeth as they know each other. Fitzwilliam can see to the needs of the ladies when they arrive. The inn is no more than an hour from here. I'm sure Rob would fetch another carriage to quickly take the three of us back. We may even catch up on Fitzwilliam's party by then."

Mrs. Bingley eyed Mrs. King with an intense look that unnerved Elizabeth. But she turned to look at the food laid out by the Darcy coachman and accepted the wine with a shrug of her shoulders. She then sat down with a great attempt at elegance by arranging her dress and feathers.

"But it is not proper for Fitzwilliam to travel alone with two young ladies." Lady Matlock argued, even though she sat down beside Mrs. Bingley.

"I will take the seat outside," Fitzwilliam said in a reassuring voice. "once I have Mrs. King safely in the carriage." With Rob's assistance, Fitzwilliam carried Mrs. King carefully to the Darcy's carriage. Elizabeth hurried Mary along quickly, not allowing Mrs. Bingley and Lady Matlock to change their mind about joining them.

When the carriage finally turned around in the direction they came from, leaving the accident site, Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. She thought back on what she knew about Mary's uncle. Mr. King was a wealthy ship owner and merchant from Liverpool. Even though the town thanked most of its prosperity to the slave trade and tobacco, Mr. King was a staunch supporter of the local abolitionist movement. After Elizabeth had left with the Darcy party to solve Lady Anne's murder, she heard from her youngest sisters that Mary King inherited ten thousand pounds. Elizabeth scanned the injured woman lying on the seat opposite. Mrs. Sarah King was as different to Lady Anne Darcy as night and day. She had red hair, as opposed to Lady Anne's blonde hair. While Lady Anne's figure was tall and light, Mrs. King was on the plump and short side. Her skin was also tan and darker compared to Her Ladyship's, probably due to her frequent travel with her husband on business.

"Mary, can you tell me why you went to Liverpool with your aunt and uncle?"

"After I inherited from my grandaunt, I noticed that men in Meryton started to pay more attention to me. But I fell for a lawyer from London, a George Wickham who is on a business trip there. George is the most charming and handsome man I've ever met. And he loves me!"

"Mr. Wickham? But he is Mr. Darcy's godson."

"Is that right? George spoke of his godfather from Derbyshire very fondly. No wonder Mr. Darcy is so kind."

"You two are engaged…"

"Secretly," Mary said, downcast. "But uncle Roger came to Meryton for a visit. He had George investigated and told me George is a womaniser, leaving a few bastard children scattered throughout England. I tried to defend George and argued with Uncle. But Uncle is the executor of the will. He made me break up the engagement. He was taking me to Liverpool to stay with them. He said after I turn one and twenty, if George proves himself worthy these four years and I still love him, he would allow us to get married. George asked me to elope with him, but we were caught by Uncle's men. I'm sure Uncle's men made George rescind his interest in me and tell me he would mend his broken heart with the beauty in Brighton. He said he never cared three straws about me, a nasty little freckled thing like me." Mary cried on Elizabeth's shoulder.

'Good riddance!' Elizabeth thought. It was good for Mary to forget such a man. But this Mr. Darcy's godson was a piece of work, mean and wicked. How could such kind people as Mr. Darcy and Lady Anne associate with such a person?

"I was so angry with Uncle that I refused to speak one word to him throughout the journey north. Aunt Sarah has been most patient with me. She comforted me while I felt the loss of George. She made me understand that Uncle's men didn't beat up George or make him say those hateful words. I started to think back on George's behaviour and understood that he was after my dowry. I wanted to apologise to Uncle. But now, Uncle is dead. I can never say sorry, and Aunt Sarah is made a widow because of me."

"Mary, I'm sorry for your loss," Elizabeth said with sympathy. "but it is an accident. It has nothing to do with you. When your Aunt Sarah wakes up, I am sure she won't blame you or anyone for what happened." For the remainder of the slow journey to the inn, Elizabeth kept an eye on Mrs. King's unconscious form while trying her best to console Mary. She wished Fitzwilliam could ride inside the carriage and share her burden.

When the carriage pulled into the inn, the innkeeper was there to greet them. Luckily Mr Darcy senior and the other two ladies had not yet arrived. Fitzwilliam jumped down the carriage, carrying Mrs. King up the guest room prepared for the patient with great care and eagerness. Elizabeth and Mary followed closely.

When Fitzwilliam turned to leave the room to allow the ladies and a maid to change Mrs. King out of the blood-soaked clothes, the woman opened her eyes suddenly. She had a startled expression and grabbed Fitzwilliam's hand.

"What took you so long, George?" She whispered with great effort.

"Aunt Sarah, you are awake," Mary exclaimed with joy. "But this is not George. This is young Mr Darcy."

Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam exchanged a knowing look. Could this be Lady Anne speaking, calling out for her husband, George Darcy? But Mary King believed her aunt confused Fitzwilliam with George Wickham. Did that mean Lady Anne's resurrection was successful?

"I'm glad you are home, son," Mrs. King gave a weak smile but wouldn't let go of Fitzwilliam's hand. "Everything is going as planned. No one complains about the food, and the chandeliers have not magically dropped on anyone's head. There is enough wine to keep everyone in a good mood at the party. But I've grown weary of the people around."

Mary became rather alarmed by Mrs. King's rambling. Elizabeth patted Mary's back and told her to let her aunt continue. "Her head might have been hurt during the accident. There is no harm in letting her speak. The doctor will see to her soon when he arrives." Mary nodded hesitantly. "And you had a shock, Mary. Maybe you should go and rest in the other guest room." Elizabeth told the maid to take care of Mary's needs and promised the younger girl that she would send the doctor to see her once he arrived and checked on Mrs. King. Mary was worried and looked at her aunt anxiously. But after a few more words from Elizabeth, Mary was persuaded to leave the room with the maid.

Once the two of them left, Fitzwilliam sat down by Mrs. King. "Mother," he called.

"What took you so long, son?" Mrs. King replied. Fitzwilliam was almost in tears, knowing that his mother had returned from the dead.

Elizabeth stared at Mrs. King. She knew that Lady Anne's spirit occupied Mrs. King's body now. But Lady Anne seemed to have returned to the night of the reunion dinner. Elizabeth decided that she must make contact with Lady Anne's spirit. She wasn't sure if it would be a danger for Lady Anne to explore the events the night she was killed when she was so freshly resurrected as Mrs. King.

Elizabeth stepped forward and squeezed Mrs. King's other hand. She tried to call out for Lady Anne's spirit in her mind. When Her Ladyship didn't reply to her silent call, she said, "What is that smile for?"

"What smile?" Mrs. King said, her smile growing wider as she stared at Fitzwilliam.

"Oh, do not pretend you don't know what I am referring to," Elizabeth said with a bit of chagrin.

"Whatever. I have got some juicy gossip for you, Catherine," Mrs. King then darted her eyes towards the room's door. She looked out for who might be eavesdropping, but no one passed by the corridor. Elizabeth was intrigued and concerned with this development. Lady Anne seemed dead-set on re-enacting the reunion dinner. She was calling Elizabeth her sister Lady Catherine de Bourgh. What should she do? Elizabeth looked at Fitzwilliam. He shook his head with his eyes wide open.

Elizabeth thought playing along with Lady Anne's spirit might be the best step forward. "You know I have no time for gossip at the moment. I am tired."

"Then I have something to show you," Mrs. King said.

"To show me?"

"Yes, I went back. I could see and remember everything," This was definitely Lady Anne speaking. But one moment, she referred to Elizabeth as Lady Catherine. Another moment, she talked to Elizabeth, the psychic. Would the resurrected Mrs. Bingley have a confused mind?

But Lady Anne didn't allow Elizabeth to ponder on her mind. She continued, "After I injured myself and you disappeared, I found myself back at the reunion dinner. I was able to see everything. I saw and remembered everything." Lady Anne's voice got very agitated.

"Calm down, calm down, Lady Anne, and speak to me. I don't understand what you are saying. What did you see?"

"Give me your hands, and I'll show you." Elizabeth looked down at her hands and back at Lady Anne's own.

"Wait, wait, Mother. We have arrived at a conclusion as to who the murderer is. It is—"Lady Anne cut Fitzwilliam short.

"Let me show you first! Elizabeth! Open your hands, Elizabeth, like this." Lady Anne said to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth proceeded to do as Lady Anne had asked. She didn't want Her Ladyship to be too distraught. Lady Anne, or Mrs. Bingley, placed her hands on Elizabeth. Elizabeth did not feel anything, just a cold sensation on her palms. Lady Anne closed her eyes, and Elizabeth supposed she was to do the same. She didn't know what would happen, not at all, but then something strange began to happen.

"Don't open your eyes until I tell you to." Lady Anne said. Elizabeth had to obey, afraid that she would do something wrong and spoil lady Anne's efforts. Or, worse, she would send Lady Anne's spirit away from her resurrected form. Elizabeth wasn't sure what would happen, but she was startled that she appeared in the grand ballroom at Pemberley, together with Fitzwilliam. They were like an audience in a theatre, watching Lady Anne walking to meet Mr. Darcy among a group of guests. "Excuse me," Lady Anne said. "I will need my husband for a few moments," she said.

"Oops, my lovely wife needs me. I will catch up with you, gents, later." Mr. Darcy hiccupped. Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam saw Lady Anne pull Mr. Darcy out of the ballroom.

"What happened, my dear?" He asked Lady Anne.

Suddenly, Mrs Bingley rushed towards them. "I need to speak to you, Lady Anne!" Mrs Bingley said, holding Lady Anne by the arm.

"Lady Anne, I need to speak to you in private, please." Mrs Bingley then turned to Mr. Darcy and batted her eyes. "Do you mind, Mr. Darcy? I need to speak to your wife for a few minutes."

Mr. Darcy hiccupped again, smiled and gave a shrug. "Yes, you may. But bring her back quickly, though!"

Mrs Bingley then dragged Lady Anne to a secluded alcove.

"What is going on, Mrs Bingley? Is everything alright?" Lady Anne asked, perplexed and confused by Mrs. Bingley's action.

"I wanted to talk to you about the playing cards. Are you sure that you do not want to sell them?" Mrs Bingley asked.

Lady Anne looked agitated. "I cannot sell them, Mrs Bingley. You know that! We have discussed this before, and we have ended the discussion too. I cannot give you my family's treasured legacy. They belong to Catherine!"

"Your sister does not even want them. She does not know the value and—"Lady Anne stopped Mrs Bingley mid-sentence.

"They are our family's treasure. I cannot disrespect my ancestors and hand them over to you, Mrs Bingley, regardless of the price you are willing to pay." Lady Anne thundered.

Mrs Bingley frowned at Lady Anne. "You will regret this, Anne. Mark my words!"

Lady Anne then waved Mrs. Bingley's words off and re-entered the ballroom. She went to warn her husband to cut down on the drinking, and then she joined Lady Catherine. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Mrs. Bingley leave the refreshment table, where Lady Catherine stood.

"I have got some juicy gossip for you, Catherine," Lady Anne said.

"You know that I usually don't have time for gossip." Lady Catherine said with a deadpan expression.

"Liar," Lady Anne joked with her sister. Lady Catherine smiled and pulled her sister into an embrace. After a quick round of gossip, Lady Anne eyed the glass of wine that her sister held. She also noticed that it seemed untouched.

"I am parched. Can I have a sip of that? You don't seem too keen on drinking it."

Lady Catherine handed the glass to her, "Oh, do you even have to ask?"

Lady Anne took it with a smile.

With a swig, Lady Anne finished off the content of the glass.

"You must have been very parched," Lady Catherine said.

"Yes, indeed. Now that I've dried up my gossip, I have to check on other guests. Excuse me." The sisters shared another hug before Lady Anne left.

Lady Anne was up and about, entertaining the guests. It seemed they were enjoying the party too much; no one was interested in retiring or leaving.

She soon knew something was not right with her, and her insides were on fire. Her throat seemed bloated, so screaming for help was impossible. She knew she would die someday but did not expect to die during one of the numerous parties she had planned. She tried to make her way to her room, calling out for her husband and son repeatedly in her mind. But she collapsed.

Like the audience of a tragedy in theatre, Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam witnessed Lady Anne's final moments before her death.

"It is Mrs. Bingley," Mrs. King, Lady Anne in the resurrection, said. "She tempered with Catherine's wine, intending to kill her, to lay her hands on the magic playing cards."

"The ones we saw in her guest chamber before you injured yourself?" Elizabeth suddenly realised what she had found under the bed of Mrs. Bingley. "But they are just playing cards."

"Not plain playing cards. According to my grandparents' journal, the cards were from the Orient. They were blessed by a great wizard. They can see into a person's future and help them change it. Imagine what Mrs. Bingley can do for herself and when she plays them with men and women of great fortune."

"Is that how the Fitzwilliam family rose to their new wealth? Or how Mr. Bingley continued to increase his fortune?"

"I believe so."

"The playing cards pass down through the eldest daughter?" Fitzwilliam asked. "That is why they belong to Aunt Catherine? Why doesn't she want them?"

"Catherine is quite stubborn in her class distinction. She would never acknowledge our ancestry consisting of foreign blood. She even called them polluters of our family purity and prefers to have nothing to do with them."

"I've seen the playing cards in Mrs. Bingley's room. It confirms her guilt in stealing them from you, Lady Anne. But is she really the murderer?"

"Why are you doubting that?" Fitzwilliam asked.

"I don't know," Elizabeth murmured to herself. "It doesn't make sense to me why I was shown the letters concerning her liaisons with three men if the motive of the murder is theft. And even if Lady Catherine died, the cards would be left to her daughter. Why did she need to kill Lady Catherine if she could steal the cards?"

A great commotion startled the three people from the trance. Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth were alarmed that Mrs. King's eyes closed immediately and seemed to have lost consciousness again on hearing Mr Darcy's party arrival downstairs. Could Mrs. Bingley be blessed with the magic of the playing cards and drive Lady Anne's spirit out from Mrs. King's body?