Dear Sunday friends, thank you for your patience. Last week, I had some sudden work commitments. I should be able to wrap up the story next week. But I've left you a cliff-hanger. Don't throw tomatoes at me, because at least you will know who the murderer(s) are by the end of this chapter. Enjoy and leave me some reviews. Thank you!
Chapter 20
"What should we do?" Fitzwilliam asked with great worries. "Mother is unconscious, and we have a murderer here with us."
"Pray do not call Mrs. King Lady Anne, or people will think you are crazy," Elizabeth said as she squeezed his hand. "Let us make sure no one comes near Mrs. King tonight. Can you ask your father to take the ladies back to Pemberley tomorrow? Then we can ensure Mrs. King has the best care in this inn and wake up with the best memory."
The doctor came shortly afterwards. He was concerned with Mrs. King and that she remained unconscious. He was worried that she might have internal injury and fever could set in. The next twenty-four hours would be critical.
The dinner was quick, as all parties were tired, especially with Mrs. Bingley and Lady Matlock critical towards everything and everyone in the inn. Elizabeth would have liked to interrogate Mrs. Bingley privately, but she didn't want to arouse her suspicion about the resurrection of Lady Anne if the woman wasn't privileged to it. So instead, she watched the interaction between the two older ladies. She could see the resemble of the two ladies. Their eyes and mouth looked alike, and some of their mannerisms were similar.
However, she couldn't get an evil vibe from Mrs. Bingley. Could a murderer act so 'normal' when her victim's family was with her? The only piece of useful information Elizabeth obtained from the dinner was that Lady Matlock seemed very eager to please Mrs. Bingley and gain her attention. Mrs. Bingley was more interested in charming Mr. George Darcy than paying attention to her young friend (or daughter).
It wasn't too difficult for Fitzwilliam to persuade the ladies to leave for Pemberley the next day, as they were not pleased with the rooms at the inn. At dinner, Mr. Darcy was curious about his son and Miss Elizabeth's great eagerness to take care of the injured without the presence of Mrs. Bingley and Lady Matlock. He could see that some sort of conspiracy was happening between the young couple but decided to leave them to it. Clothes had been fetched from Pemberley for the younger party to stay in Trentham for a few days. Mr. Darcy wasn't keen on travelling back to Pemberley for three hours with Mrs. Bingley and Lady Matlock the next day. In the past, the women often indulged in sharp-tongued gossip and their conversations were tedious. Perhaps he would ride beside the carriage to avoid the duo and persuade them to return to Matlock with young Charles as soon as possible. He had enough of Mrs. Bingley's fawning today.
Elizabeth had asked for a cot in Mrs. King's room. She decided to stay with the injured even though Fitzwilliam had arranged for a servant to station outside the room. Elizabeth took up a great responsibility in ensuring Lady Anne's successful resurrection. It was like the greatest' achievement' of her practice as a psyche, even though she had nothing to do with the actual act. The resurrection depended on Lady Anne and Mrs. King's willpower and action. But Elizabeth wanted to be nearby if Lady Anne required her help. She felt incredibly close to Fitzwilliam's mother.
Luckily, Elizabeth was not needed during the night. Mrs. King slept through uninterrupted. She had a slight fever that was not alarming even though she hadn't woken up.
Seeing the lovely weather, Elizabeth took a short walk around the inn before breakfast. She gave the maid strict instructions not to leave Mrs. King's side.
"Good morning, Miss Elizabeth. Has Mother, I mean, Mrs. King woken up?" Young Darcy asked when he saw Elizabeth walking alone and decided to join her.
Elizabeth shook her head. "But she sleeps quite calmly and peacefully. There is no need to be alarmed."
"The doctor said he will return near luncheon to check on her."
Elizabeth nodded.
"You are quite early this morning. Did you not manage to get some sleep?"
"I couldn't help but rethink what we have learned. Something just didn't add up."
"Can you share your confusion with me?" Darcy said. "Or what is your impression of Mrs. Bingley? I could hardly hold my civility with her last evening, knowing she was the one who killed my mother."
After a few moments of silent ponder, Elizabeth sighed, "I am still not convinced that Mrs. Bingley killed your mother, Mr. Darcy."
"But Mother told us, through Mrs. King, that she saw Mrs. Bingley near the refreshment table. She drank the glass of wine left by Mrs. Bingley for Aunt Catherine."
"Do you know where your mother kept the magic playing cards?" Elizabeth asked instead.
"I do not even know that such cards existed," Darcy shook his head. "I can ask Father about that before he leaves for Pemberley."
"Or we can ask Mrs. King, when she wakes up if she retains that part of Lady Anne's memory."
"Why is it important to know that?"
"If Mrs. Bingley could steal the cards, why did she have to kill Lady Catherine for them?"
Darcy was unable to think of a satisfactory answer.
"Mrs. Bingley knew Lady Catherine didn't have the cards in her possession. Rather Lady Anne had them," Elizabeth continued. "I might have seen the cards in Mrs. Bingley's guestroom during my out-of-body experience. The way they were left under the bed seemed to suggest that it was a spur-of-the-moment action."
"So my mother was the original target?"
"No, I don't think so. I actually believeā¦"
"Ah, there you are, Master Darcy," Mrs. Bingley called out from twenty yards down the lane. Elizabeth turned to look at Fitzwilliam, who took a deep breath to calm his anger. Elizabeth took the opportunity to distract him by greeting the woman first.
"Mrs. Bingley, good morning. I trust you had a good night's sleep, after yesterday's horrific accident."
"I slept most foully. The bed was hard, and the bedding was not pristine. I wished Mr. Darcy could have pushed on last evening to take us to Pemberley without stopping here."
"But you have travelled almost two days from Middlesbrough," Elizabeth commented with a frown. The timing of her travel was suspicious.
"Yes, Mrs. Bingley, what made you travel here?" Darcy added. "It is quite out of your way."
"I got an express from Augusta. She said she was planning to visit Liverpool for some business and asked me to join her."
"When did you get the express?" Elizabeth asked immediately.
"About three days ago." Mrs. Bingley replied.
"Where is Lady Matlock?" Elizabeth was alarmed. How did Lady Matlock 'predict' that they would make a trip to Liverpool three days ago. Their journey to find a resurrected Lady Anne was only organised last night.
"Still in the inn, of course!"
Elizabeth didn't wait for the older gentlewoman to finish her sentence. She called out to Mr. Darcy as she ran back towards the inn with great haste. "Come, Fitzwilliam, Mrs. King is in danger!"
Meanwhile, in the inn, inside Mrs. King's room, Lady Matlock had gained entrance after dismissing the servant stationed outside.
"Leave us," she ordered the maid.
"But Miss Elizabeth told me not to leave Mrs. King under any circumstances." Young Julie said.
"Did you know who I am?" Lady Matlock turned up her nose.
"Aye, your Ladyship. But Master Darcy and Miss Elizabeth entrusted me with this duty. I'm not to leave Mrs. King unprotected at all."
"Why does Mrs. King need a maid's protection. I'm only going to speak to her."
"Did you know my aunt, Lady Matlock?" Mary came into the room, confused by the protective stance of the young maid standing in front of her aunt and the angry posture of Lady Matlock. She was told about a member of the party by Elizabeth after dinner, as she had taken a tray for supper last evening and hadn't joined the others.
"I just wanted to comfort your aunt by reading to her. But this stupid maid refuses to allow me to be near her."
"Thank you for your generosity," Mary said politely. The last few days had forced her to grow up quickly. While she didn't like the stern eyes of Lady Matlock, she didn't want to anger a noblewoman either. She could see that Lady Matlock didn't come to read to her aunt as she was not carrying a book, but she just played along. "Perhaps you can sit over there and read to her."
Lady Matlock said in the chair by the windows, away from the bed, with a pinched mouth. "Fetch me a book of poetry." She told the servant. Julie looked uncertainly at the unconscious patient and Mary.
"It is fine," Mary said to Julie. "The servants had retrieved our trunk. I have Wordsworth's poetry here." She eagerly fetched the book from the trunk at the corner of the room. She could see that Lady Matlock was displeased by this development.
"Then fetch me a cup of hot tea," Lady Matlock said to the maid. Mary couldn't think of another way to stop her from sending Julie away from the room, so she nodded to signal for Julie to follow the instruction.
"Aye, Your Ladyship!" Julie bobbed and rushed out of the room. "I shall be right back."
Young Julie had an eerie sense of worry as she left Mrs. King's room. She dashed along the corridor without looking and bumped into Mr. Darcy. "Sorry, Sir!" She was almost in tears, worried that she was unable to follow the kind Miss Elizabeth's instructions. She left Mrs. King the wicked-looking Lady Matlock. She couldn't imagine what Lady Matlock would do but Miss Elizabeth made Julie solemnly swear to protect the injured patient. Julie felt a great compulsion to follow Miss Elizabeth's order.
"Not to worry," Mr. Darcy said. "But why do you on the verge of tears?"
"Miss Elizabeth told me not to leave Mrs. King, but Lady Matlock ordered me to fetch some hot tea."
"That is easily remedied. Let me call the servant to fetch the tea," Mr. Darcy called out to a young lad from below stairs to do his bidding. "Now, you can return to Mrs King's room without delay. In fact, I will follow you to give my regards to her young niece. Miss Mary is with her aunt, right?"
"That is grand, Sir!" Julie smiled amid the tear and ran off along the corridor to return to Mrs. King's room. The door was closed, not as she had left it open when she fetched the tea. She knocked and pushed it open. She gasped on seeing Miss King slumped on the chair and Lady Matlock hovered over Mrs. King. "No!" she cried out.
"Step away from Mrs. King! What is the meaning of this?" Mr. Darcy marched into the room and ordered Lady Matlock to move away from the injured lady.
Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth rushed into Mrs. King's room in time to see a frenzy Lady Matlock trying to force a drink on Mrs. King, while Mr. George Darcy grabbed Her Ladyship's hand to prevent that.
Mr. Darcy knocked Lady Matlock and the glass away, which smashed onto the floor with a loud, cluttering sound. Lady Matlock lost her footing and sat on the floor, with her right hand cut by a piece of broken class. "No! No! No!" Lady Matlock held her bleeding hand and cried out, not in pain but in fear.
"The drink contains poison," Elizabeth exclaimed, seeing Lady Matlock's fearful expression. "Julie, fetch the doctor immediately. Lady Matlock wounds need to be cleansed to prevent the poison from getting into her body."
"No!" Lady Matlock blurted out. "I don't want to die. The Lord is punishing me for my evil deed. No, No, it's your fault!" She cried out in raised voice. Elizabeth thought Her Ladyship was accusing her, but in fact, she spat her anger at Mrs. Bingley. The latter had followed the young couple into the room.
"Calm down, Augusta. It is just a small cut. You are not going to die." Mrs. Bingley said dismissively. She apparently didn't hear what Elizabeth had said about the drink being spiked with poison.
"It's your fault! Why did you force me to marry Lord Matlock? He cannot keep his hands from other women."
"Forced you? You wanted to become a lady, to have respect and wealth. I took care of you and worked so hard to fulfil your dream. And what did I get for all my hard work?"
"Rubbish," Lady Matlock cried out in anguish. "You never care about me. You only love your precious Collins! He is a fawning, useless and ugly clergyman with no wit. I'm your beautiful firstborn, and you abandoned me with the Hawkins! Some strict temperance lunatics who punished me for anything and everything, just because I'm a loose woman's daughter."
"Was that why you wanted to kill Mrs. Bingley three years ago?" Elizabeth jumped in.
"What?" Fitzwilliam exclaimed. "Lady Matlock wanted to murder her own mother but kill my mother instead?"
"That is why it is all her fault," Lady Matlock pointed her finger at Mrs. Bingley.
"No, Augusta wouldn't have wanted to kill me. She couldn't have killed Lady Anne. And you are your Uncle Hawkins's child. He asked me to leave you with his brother."
"No, that is not true," Lady Matlock shook her head frantically. "He is not my real father. You gave up your virtue to a nobody when you were just ten and fifteen. My father Hawkins told me hundreds of times. You are a harlot. Uncle Captain was a hero. He would not have wanted and loved you."
"Captain Tim Hawkins was my first love. I gave myself to him when he promised to marry me. But then he left for the war. When I told him I was pregnant, he arranged with his brother to take you in. I tried to see you as often as I was allowed. How can you blame me for anything?"
"I don't believe you, strumpet. You are not worthy of my Uncle Captain's love. I do."
"Stupid girl!" Mrs. Bingley exclaimed. "how can you fall in love with your real father? He only loved you as his daughter. He loved me. I am his only one."
"No, I'm beautiful and educated as a proper gentlewoman. I'm not like you. He was not my father. He loved me, as man and woman. And you forced me to marry Lord Matlock while my heart still mourned Uncle Captain!" Lady Matlock picked up a piece of glass from the ground and lunged toward Mrs. Bingley.
Fitzwilliam jumped forward and tried to grab Lady Matlock's hand. "Stop, Aunt Augusta. Killing your own mother would not remove your pain. You have already cost my mother's life. How can you face the Lord if you continue your bloodshed."
"I didn't intend to kill your mother. It was all an accident." Lady Matlock twisted away from Fitzwilliam and backed towards the bed. "Don't come near." She stumbled back onto the bed and held up Mrs. King's hand with the shaft of glass pointing at the unconscious woman's wrist.
Clap! Clap!
Darcy and Elizabeth turned at the sound of applause and saw Collins standing with a gun in his hand.
"Well done, Augusta!"
"It is you," Elizabeth said with sudden clarity.
"Congratulations, Miss Bennet, or should I say Miss Zeath? The Great Psyche of Meryton, for working out who killed Lady Anne Darcy at the reunion gathering."
"You meant Collins had something to do with my mother's death?" Darcy said with an angry voice. He exchanged a look with his father and pulled Elizabeth behind him as he faced the miscreant. His father also stepped forward to protect Mary King sitting in the chair.
"Indeed, but he is not Mr. Collins," Elizabeth said, his eyes narrowing in the vicar with a gun. "He is Mrs. Bingley's third child out of wedlock, right? What is your name?"
"What?!" Mrs. Bingley exclaimed. "No, he is my Collins. He looks and dresses like Collins."
"I'm not Collins!" The man spat. He surged forward, wrapped his arm around Mrs. Bingley's neck and pointed his gun at her.
"What are you doing, Collins? Are you mad? Release me at once," Mrs. Bingley cried out.
"I told you I'm not Collins!"
"Whoever you are, lower your gun!" Fitzwilliam demanded.
"He is Collins the impersonator."
Elizabeth's words angered the fake clergyman. He pushed Mrs. Bingley away, charged forward and tried to grab her. But Elizabeth jumped backwards with great dexterity that he turned his assault on Darcy instead. After a few moments of struggling, he squeezed Fitzwilliam's neck with one arm and held the gun pointing at his chest.
"You seem to know everything, Miss Zeath. Now tell me, should I kill your beau or not?"
Elizabeth's heart was racing. She couldn't let the madman hurt Fitzwilliam. She must keep the fake reverend speaking while giving Darcy a chance to push the man away. "I don't know everything. I guess you are the one who stole the playing cards. You are the one who instigated hatred of Mrs. Bingley in your half-sister. I didn't know what your name was nor who your father was. I didn't know what you say to prompt Lady Matlock to want to kill Mrs. Bingley."
"And you don't know what I'm here for."
"Indeed, I don't."
"The magic playing cards told me a secret - the great Lady Anne would be resurrected. It is paramount for me to prevent it," The fake clergyman said. "And I need your help, Miss Zeath, to unlock the true extent of the magic cards."
"No!" Mr. George Darcy cried out, picked up a chair, and swung it over the impersonated Collins's head. "I won't allow you to kill my wife twice!"
"You are too late. Augusta has already seen to it." The evil man laughed before he dropped the gun, released Fitzwilliam and slumped to the ground, unconscious.
"Mrs. King!" Elizabeth called out as she charged towards Lady Matlock, but not before the crazy woman slid a long cut on Mrs. King's arm.
