Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy set out for the steward’s house, Thatcher trailing behind them. The walk was brisk, filled with the tension of their deadline. As they approached Mr. Kendrick’s handsome stone house, she could not shake the feeling they were on the verge of uncovering something significant. She only hoped that whatever it was, it would not make Mr. Darcy insist on having them all decamp to Pemberley. As much as she would like to see his home, she simply refused to abandon hers at the first sign of trouble. Mr. Ellis would not have wanted it.
Mr. Darcy knocked on the door, which was promptly answered by Mrs. Kendrick, a pleasant-looking woman whose eyes widened at the sight of her unexpected visitors.
“Miss Bennet!” she exclaimed. “My apologies, I did not expect you. Come in, come in!”
They stepped inside, and Thatcher took up his accustomed place at the door.
“Mrs. Kendrick,” Elizabeth began, “I felt the need for a bit of exercise, so Mr. Darcy offered to walk me here. We are conducting a thorough inventory at the great house, and Mrs. Riggs said Mr. Ellis sometimes left things here temporarily, for safekeeping.”
“He did, Miss Bennet,” Mrs. Kendrick said, casting an uncertain glance at Mr. Darcy.
“Do you have the items in a box or stored away? We are searching for a set of silver candlesticks but would be pleased to take whatever remains so you may reclaim the space in your home.”
Mrs. Kendrick smiled a bit at this. “I would like that. Just a moment.”
“I would be pleased to carry the box for you, Mrs. Kendrick,” Mr. Darcy said. Elizabeth thought she might be as astonished by this offer as Mrs. Kendrick seemed to be.
The steward’s wife shook her head. “No sir, though I thank you. My man can carry it for you.”
He inclined his head in a gesture of respect. “Of course.”
It was only a few minutes before Mrs. Kendrick returned with a servant carrying a box of items and a troubled expression. “I am so sorry, Miss Bennet. I know we had a lovely pair of silver candlesticks, but they are not here.”
“It is all right, Mrs. Kendrick,” Elizabeth said with a quick glance at Mr. Darcy. “We know where they are. Can you think of anyone who might have had access to them other than you and your husband?”
“Well, the servants, of course, but I am entirely certain of their honesty. They have all four of them been with us since our marriage.” She paused. “But I did hire the Sykes boys from the church to help Frank with the firewood this year, and they come by once a week to assist with some of the chores.”
Elizabeth’s breath caught. Matthew and little Harry. Could they be involved in this? She did not like to think so.
“Should I tell the boys not to come anymore?” Mrs. Kendrick asked uncertainly.
“I do not believe that is necessary at this point,” Elizabeth assured her. “We will inform you if anything changes.”
“They seem such good boys, so eager to work,” Mrs. Kendrick replied. “I do hope I am not wrong about them.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Kendrick,” Mr. Darcy said. “We must be on our way.”
Mr. Darcy opened the front door and motioned to Thatcher, who relieved the Kendrick’s man of the box and tossed it up onto one shoulder.
“So, the candlesticks came from this house,” Elizabeth said. “But it may not be the case that there was any housebreaking involved. Do you think it might be the boys?”
Mr. Darcy contemplated the question, and while Elizabeth in her impatience wished for an immediate answer, she appreciated that he was taking the inquiry seriously. “I cannot read another’s heart, but it would make the most sense. I doubt, however, that it was done for their own benefit.”
Elizabeth was relieved. “And why is that?”
“I do not know the boys well, so understand that I may be in error.”
She nodded.
“I have a few reasons. The candlesticks are quite valuable. It is a hanging offence to have stolen them, though most thieves are transported rather than hanged these days. First, I do not believe the elder boy would do anything that would separate him from his younger brother. Second, because the consequences are so severe, the theft speaks of desperation—and I do not believe they are desperate. Not anymore.”
From what she recalled of the boys, Elizabeth thought he must be right.
“However, their father might have a hand in it.”
“Their father?”
“Mr. Sykes is a drunkard and a liar. One reason Mr. Milner gives the boys so little coin for their work is that their father would demand it of them. If their wages are spent on being fed and clothed by the church in exchange for their work, Mr. Milner can see they are cared for.”
