The Mysterious Death of Mr. Darcy (62 page)

“Where am I?” he asked aloud to test his voice, and the echo returned in a hollow discord. Darcy wiggled from side to side to free one of his hands. He skimmed it across his body to assure himself he had sustained no further injuries.

The blackness encompassed all, and Darcy had difficulty in determining his bearings. He struggled to rein in the gathering panic. “It is as dark as a grave,” he said before the reality of his words slammed into the lid over his head. The woman and Gaylord had locked him in a box, and Darcy feared he knew where he rested.

Edward had circled the building to emerge on the far side of the space, which opened onto the adjoining village hall and main street. The church sat upon a cleared section of land, which slanted away from the main road. Not even half as grand as Minster Monastery, this simple church served those on the far side of Wimborne, those closest to the Roman Road.

He edged from the shadows to stand in a shaft of moonlight. Despite Elizabeth's insistence, Edward had discovered nothing unusual. “Bloody hell,” he growled. “I pray Cowan is more successful.” With urgency, he crossed the open plain to reach his cousin's wife. The colonel worried for Thomas Cowan's safety.

Elizabeth had watched her husband's cousin disappear into the night. She held tightly to the reins of the horse, keeping the animal close in case she must seek assistance. The drugs still coursed through her veins, and Elizabeth fought for clarity. She would not succumb to the dizzying blackness. Her husband needed her to be strong.

“Darcy.” The word formed silently on her lips. Elizabeth could recall very little of what had happened since she had foolishly permitted Mrs. Ridgeway to lead her upon a merry chase. Obviously, as it was well into the nighttime hours, she had slept through much of the day's drama, but Elizabeth had been well aware of the sacrifice Darcy had made to administer another dose of Mrs. Ridgeway's poisonous mixture. Releasing her husband to follow the housekeeper had been the hardest task of Elizabeth's short life. However, she had no doubt Mrs. Ridgeway would have shot both Darcy and her if Elizabeth had not played along.

The sound of a crunched branch set her nerves on alert. Elizabeth tightened her grasp on the reins and stroked the animal's long neck. Major had heard it also, and Elizabeth meant to keep the horse calm. “Easy, Boy,” she whispered.

Watchful, her eyes searched the opening. Another crunch. A shuffled step. A swish of a skirt, and two people entered the open area beside the church. One was Mrs. Ridgeway, but the second was not Darcy.

Elizabeth's heart throttled. She had no weapon. She should climb into Major's saddle, and then ride for assistance, but if she did, the housekeeper could escape.
Oh, where is the colonel
? she thought.

With no hope of surviving this confrontation, Elizabeth boldly stepped into the open. “What have you done with Mr. Darcy?” she demanded.

Not expecting to encounter another person in this part of the churchyard, the housekeeper had jumped from the start, but she quickly recovered. “I know not of what you speak,” she declared with authority.

Elizabeth's hands fisted at her side. “I care not if you escape. I care not for the perfidy you practice. I simply want to know of my husband.”

The woman gave a disgusting snort, “He is dead. Your husband has breathed his last breath.”

Elizabeth's stomach clenched in revolt, and her heart skipped within her chest, but she said, “That is the second time today you have offered me that lie.”

The housekeeper growled with disdain. “This time it is true.”

Elizabeth's knees thought to buckle, but she kept herself aright. “A prevarication,” she accused. “I do not believe you.” Even in her own ears, her reply held only a trace of denial.

The man spoke for the first time. “It does not matter what you believe, Mrs. Darcy.” He took a menacing step in her direction.

Elizabeth looked at the housekeeper's associate for the first time. “Do I know you, Sir?' Elizabeth asked reflexively.

The man offered a mocking bow. “I am Woodvine's steward, Mrs. Darcy.” He paused for an intimidating effect. “I am also the man who has killed your husband,” he said bluntly.

This time, Elizabeth's composure faltered. The steward's ominous words rang in her head. A sob caught her, and she pitched forward as if to catch her breath. She knew the man raised his weapon to strike her, but Elizabeth no longer cared. If Darcy were dead, she meant to follow him. As she braced herself for the blow, the sound of gunfire sent her to her knees.

“Elizabeth? Elizabeth? Are you injured?”

She trembled openly, but she managed to say, “No. No, Colonel.” Elizabeth answered twice to convince herself as much as him.

“Then, I require your assistance.” Edward Fitzwilliam remained behind the pair. “Remove Mrs. Stowbridge's gun.”

Elizabeth looked up in surprise. “You are married to Mr. Stowbridge?” Bits of the conversation between the two at the cottage and memory of what the colonel had told her earlier flooded her senses. Suddenly, everything became clearer.

“I am,” the woman said flatly. “Some eight and twenty years.”

Elizabeth staggered to her feet. “But why would you continue to live in Samuel Darcy's home if your husband was but three miles distance?”

Mrs. Stowbridge shrugged noncommittally. “Loiza is a fine man. A gentle man, but his idea of obedience is not mine.”

“Did Samuel Darcy know?” Elizabeth demanded.

The woman smiled sadly. “Not until right before he died.”

“Elizabeth,” Edward said with exigency. “We can question Mrs. Stowbridge and...”

“Mr. Gaylord,” Elizabeth supplied the man's name.

“Mr. Gaylord,” Edward continued, “after you remove their weapons.”

Elizabeth reddened. She did not find offense in the colonel's chiding. Instead, she made herself step farther into the circle of moonlight.

“Be wary, Cousin,” Edward cautioned.

From where Mrs. Stowbridge still held it loose at her side, Elizabeth retrieved the gun.

“You must run your hands over Mrs. Stowbridge to see if she conceals other weapons,” Edward coaxed.

Although she felt awkward in doing so, Elizabeth slid her hands across the woman's waist and corset.

“The lady's limbs,” Edward instructed.

Elizabeth bit her bottom lip as a sudden anger flared through her heart. She had permitted this woman to remain too close to her family. The idea had cost Elizabeth her own sense of place in the world. She bent to slide her hands up and down the woman's legs through the lady's gown.

“Not too close,” Edward warned. “It would be easy for Mrs. Stowbridge to kick you and overcome you.”

The former housekeeper laughed sarcastically. “How bitter you are, Colonel.”

Elizabeth removed a small pistol tied to the woman's calf. If she had faced the woman alone, Elizabeth would never have thought to search for the extra weapon. “What now, Colonel?”

“Bring the weapons here,” he instructed. Elizabeth quickly joined him behind the pair. He accepted the small gun from her, but insisted she keep the other. “I will search Gaylord. If either of our assailants moves, I trust you to shoot.” Elizabeth was not certain she could purposely inflict pain on another, but she nodded her agreement. “Just remember they likely hold information on Darcy's whereabouts.”

That fact played well to her resolve. To find her husband, Elizabeth would be willing to exact bodily harm on these two.

Edward leaned closer. “Darcy has taught you to shoot, has he not, Mrs. Darcy?”

Elizabeth nodded almost imperceptibly in the affirmative.

Edward smiled deviously. “If you must shoot, aim for Gaylord. I can easily overcome the woman.”

Elizabeth appreciated the flash of levity. It helped her to relax and to concentrate on the task at hand. “I shall endeavor to hit the gentleman, Colonel,” she said smartly.

Within a minute, he stood beside her again. The colonel placed the long gun and a shovel beside the brick wall. We must secure the pair before we can conduct our investigation,” he explained. “I have rope in Major's saddlebag. Would you retrieve it?”

Elizabeth nodded. However, before she could return to Edward's side, a whistle sounded, which the colonel returned, and Cowan arrived on the scene. Without comment, the Runner automatically took the rope from Elizabeth's hands and set about tying the couple together.

Once the pair was secure, Edward asked Gaylord, “You taunted Mrs. Darcy with tales of her husband's death. Tell me what you know of my cousin's whereabouts.”

“How would that benefit me?” The man's expression did not alter. “I hold no information, which would save my life.”

As this questioning proved futile, Cowan asked Elizabeth. “Where did you encounter Mrs. Stowbridge?”

Elizabeth pointed off to the right. “She and Mr. Gaylord came from that direction.”

Cowan frowned dramatically. “From the cemetery? There is nothing beyond the gravesites but a rocky drop off. What business would Mrs. Stowbridge have in a church cemetery? By her own admission, the woman has never set foot in Mr. Williamson's church.”

Elizabeth's heart lurched. She shot a quick glance to Mr. Gaylord's
weapons
: a shovel. “My God!” she gasped. “They have buried Fitzwilliam alive!”

Darcy's panic had risen to a point of insensibility. His heart faltered. The box held him easily, wedged him into the space. There were but six inches or so between his head and the wooden roof. Possibly three inches remained between his arms and the box's side. There was no way to raise his legs, and he could feel a heavy weight attached to the left one.