Lydia held a small looking glass in her left hand while her right glided over the bundle of curls Nancy had twisted together on the back of her head. She moved the glass here and there as she stared quizzically at the image caught within its frame.
A big smile spread across her face as she sprung from her dressing chair.
"Yes, Nancy – this is JUST perfect! It'll do just fine for my meeting with, who did you say wanted to talk with me? And then when Wickham gets back ,he can take me to luncheon. We've been stuck in this old house for ever so long and I really need to get out and be seen and to see others! I must have some jolly stories to impress my sisters with when Wickham and I return to Longbourn as a married couple. Lord! Won't that be fun when I cast "Miss Jane" to her lower spot as an unmarried woman while I, Lydia…"
A sharp rap on her door interrupted her rapturous imaginations and she swiveled to look at Nancy – "Well, get the door - don't just stand there."
Before Nancy could respond the door opened and Mrs. Young strode in with a look of authority stamped on her face, that same look that frequently cowed Lydia but failed to do so this morning.
"Pardon me, Mrs. Young but what do YOU want?
"The constable is ready to talk with you – he is below waiting in the dining room. "
"What? Why is he not waiting on me here, why must I go to him? " queried Lydia sulkily.
Mrs. Young stifled a sigh as she asked herself yet again how in the world Wickham had managed to tie himself up with such an unschooled, unmannered chit!
She replied, her voice laced with restraint; "Miss Bennet, it is entirely inappropriate for a man to visit you within your rooms. This is why we have a visitors parlour!"
"Then why doesn't he visit me there?" pouted Lydia.
"Because this is not a social call." Mrs. Young retorted through tight lips.
Lydia opened her mouth to respond and snapped it shut when Mrs. Young exclaimed.
"Please Miss Bennet, just go down to the dining room now. The sooner you do this, the sooner we will have this unpleasant event over and done with and get the constable out of my house."
Lydia spun on her heel and all but stomped her way out of the room and down the stairs, leaving Mrs. Young glaring at her back. Pulling her shoulders back the Mistress of Betterman's house tersely instructed Nancy.
"I suggest you make yourself useful and,' she glanced about the dark, stuffy room littered with used dishes and stray pieces of feminine wear, "clean this mess up."
With a hard glitter in her eye, she held Nancy's gaze and again reminded her;
"You have found yourself suddenly unemployed and we both know with your background, the chances of landing yourself another position as a lady's maid is next to none – even if your mistress hadn't been murdered. You simply haven't the references to be accepted in a home of any superior standing. If you can make yourself useful here, and keep your mouth shut, I might, just might, allow you stay here and help with the upkeep of these rooms and possibly help some of the other lady guests. Do you understand?"
Nancy nodded numbly and immediately set to picking the various stockings strewn across the bed and floor from Lydia's frantic search for clean ones. Satisfied she had Mrs. Jansen's former maid where she needed her, Mrs. Young left the room, quietly closing the door behind herself.
Mr. Jones and Lydia meet again….
After stomping down the stairs, Lydia found herself staring at the dining room door and heard on the other side of it the tinkle of the china against china. She tried to peer through the tiny slit and could just barely make out a rather large man who was obviously dressed in the uniform of a runner.
A runner? A common place runner was going to question her? She tilted her chin up and made as if to push the door open but then hesitated. Should she knock first? What would Lizzy do? Oh to hang what Lizzy would do, she decided, as she pushed the door open with such force that it slammed against the wall.
Mr Jone's stood swiftly and gave her a quick nod which Lydia barely acknowledged as she struggled to regain her composure and shut the heavy door.
"Miss Bennet we meet, ah again."
"Again?"
Mr. Jones faced reddened slightly at the memory of Lydia sprawled unconscious on the floor of the visitors parlour where she had been found earlier this morning.
The constable cleared his throat and pulled at the hem of his jacket, before indicating that Lydia be seated across from him.
Lydia sat.
As Constable Jones rearranged himself precariously on the slight dining room chair, he pulled his notes toward himself and then looked back at his rather valuable witness that he currently had on hand.
"Now then, Miss Bennet, I believe you are acquainted with a Mr. Wickham who 'ad a couple of gentlemen callers, 'ere, yesterday morning."
Lydia gushed "well of course I am well acquainted with Mr. Wickham. George and I are li –" Lydia paused. "We are engaged to be married and have applied for a special license." She hesitated as if waiting for him to be in awe of this information.
Glancing back at his notes, it was as if the constable had not even heard her.
"So now could you describe those men who called on your finance." he asked.
"Why do you want to know what Mr. Darcy and my uncle Mr. Gardiner look like?" demanded Lydia crossly. "What could that possibly matter?"
Mr. Jones leaned forward eagerly "Oh it matters a great deal, young lady, it matters quite a bit. So if you please – could you describe the gentlemen for me."
Heaving a heavy sigh and rolling her eyes, Lydia shared that she thought that Mr. Darcy was quite a tall fellow while her uncle was really closer in height to her father…
"No, no, no! I don't mean their physical appearance, I mean what were they wearing?"
"Goodness! I don't know. Why ever would I know what my uncle and Mr. Darcy were wearing. I never even saw them that day. In fact, I was purposely trying not to see them as my uncle was trying to get me to move to his house and…
Mr. Jones interrupted her with a heavy sigh. "Right then, if you didn't see them yesterday when did you last see them?"
"The day before, when my Uncle Gardiner came to plead with me to move into his home," she replied pettishly. "He's ever such a killjoy! And my aunt!" She clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes.
"Yes, yes, never mind all that girl! What colour is your uncle's over coat?"
"I don't know!"
"Could it be green, a 'ow, did she call it?", he glanced at his notes and then stared at her seriously – "a forest green?"
"Heavens no", returned Lydia sharply."Don't be ridiculous. Mr. Gardiner in a hunters green coat? Mr. Darcy wears such a coat, but my uncle?" She snickered. "I can't imagine him in anything but brown or black!"
Mr. Jones smiled wolfishly. "So then you are saying that your uncle definitely was NOT wearing forest green and most likely was wearing a black overcoat. "
"Yes, I suppose so!" Replied Lydia carelessly.
She leaned back in her chair and began to rove her eyes about the room, clearly bored with the questioning as well as Mr. Jones.
"Can I go now? Are you finished with talking to me? I've really very important things to – Wickham and I are going out to lunc-"
"Yes, yes!" Mr. Jones gestured impatiently at her to remain sitting and eagerly leaned forward.
"So you are certain your uncle wears a black over coat."
Lydia yawned effectually and said "I suppose" so and slumped even more in her chair.
What difference could it possibly make what colour coat my uncle or the hundreds of men in town wear?"
"Because, young lady, a man was seen leaving Mrs. Jansen's room late last night and he was wearing a black over coat. And more importantly: some of her jewels are missin'." He slapped his hand down hard on the dining room table sending the find china cup rattling in its saucer and startled Lydia out of her boredom.
Lydia stared at him for a second and then began to chortle! "My uncle - Mr Gardiner and Mrs… Mrs Jansen?"
Mr. Jones stiffened. "It's no laughing matter young lady. Once I find the man in that coat with the missing jewels I will have my man. Please go and find Mrs. Young for me, I need to determine if she knows where Mr. Wickham is and once he confirms.. "
"You don't need Mrs. Young for that information. My Wickham is meeting right now, as we speak, with both my uncle and Mr. Darcy. They are at Mr. Darcy's Club on - Street. "
The constable pushed back his chair and excitedly grabbed at his notes, stuffing them inside his coat while he pulled on his hat.
"Right then, no time to lose, please give my goodbyes to Mrs. Young. Good bye then Miss… Miss ahhh
"Bennet!" Lydia helpfully supplied for him. She was relieved to know she could finally return to her room and finished preparing for her outing with Wickham. She watched the Constable eagerly depart from the dining room and then, pushing her chair back, followed him out.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Many thanks to my loyal readers and commenters. I have taken the many comments to heart and appreciate them all. I hope to follow this chapter with another chapter that is most likely to be short because of the nature of events that it will reveal.
Then I will most likely not publish for at least two weeks due to a trip out of the country, thought I will be writing while I am gone, so as not to keep you all waiting too long once I get home.
Thank you again for reading my story! (PS I accidently deleted this chapter after publishing it this afternoon - so took the opportunity to add this note and make a couple of important corrections. My apologies for the fact that you most likely get two notices of a new chapters! Sadly there was no going back after I hit the delete button! BLUSH!)