“Mamma,” she began, “do you think—”
“No, Lizzy,” Mrs. Bennet interrupted, her face flushed with agitation. “I will hear nothing more in his defence. I know what I know.”
Elizabeth was about to respond when a knock at the door interrupted them. Mr. Riggs entered, carrying a silver tray. “An express for you, Miss Bennet,” the butler announced. Her heart quickened as she recognised her father's handwriting. She broke the seal and began to read, aware of her mother's anxious gaze upon her.
As she read, she felt many emotions—relief, concern, and a touch of exasperation. When she finished, she looked up at her mother. “It is from Papa,” she explained. “He should arrive by the end of the week. Jane and the Gardiners will bring everyone else as soon as they are able to prepare for a long visit.”
Mamma’s eyes lit up at this news, but Elizabeth was not finished.
“Papa also says”—she hesitated, knowing how her mother would react— “that we ought to ask Mr. Darcy and his sister to remain until he arrives.”
As expected, Mamma was adamant. “No! Absolutely not! I will not have that man in this house!”
“But Mamma, Papa specifically requests—”
“I do not care what your father says!” her mother cried, her voice shrill. “He is not here! He does not understand the danger!” A few tears escaped and trickled down her cheeks. “He is not listening to me.”
Elizabeth watched in dismay as her mother again worked herself into a state, her breathing becoming rapid and shallow. “Mamma, please, you must calm yourself. This agitation is making you ill.”
But her mother was beyond reason. She rose from her chair and swayed. “Lizzy, you must write to your father at once. Tell him we cannot have the Darcys here. Tell him . . .”
Mamma’s words trailed off as she pressed a hand to her forehead and her face drained of all colour. Elizabeth jumped to her feet just as her mother's knees buckled.
“Mamma!” she exclaimed, managing to catch her mother and ease her to the settee before she could fall. “Mrs. Riggs! Come quickly!”
And then it was chaos. The housekeeper rushed in, barking orders to the maids who scattered in search of smelling salts. Despite her concern for her mother, Elizabeth noted fleetingly that Mrs. Riggs had never been required to carry salts for her mother and so was delayed in locating them.
And indeed, the salts were not needed. It was only a few seconds before Mamma opened her eyes again and Elizabeth released the breath she had been holding. In her mother’s current state, there simply would be no possibility of fulfilling her father’s request. She could not even write to him, for he would be travelling before an express could arrive at Longbourn. They were on their own.
No, not on their own. For though she had not heard from Mr. Darcy, she knew he would not have asked her consent to continue his search for their thief if he had no intention of acting upon it.
Chapter Seventeen
The day after his visit to the solicitor, Darcy rode to the church where the Sykes boys were often to be found. As he approached, he saw young Matthew and Harry walking inside the sanctuary, carrying a wooden box with rags and polish. He dismounted and followed them.
The afternoon sun filtered through the stained glass, casting a kaleidoscope of colours across the worn stone floor of the small country church, and dust motes floated in the slanted beams of light. The boys were preparing to polish the brass railing at the front of the sanctuary.
“Hello, lads,” Darcy said.
Two heads shot up.
“I was hoping to have a word with you both.”
The boys exchanged a nervous glance as he approached, and when he reached them, he crouched down, his voice gentle but firm. “I need to know about the man who has been taking things from Hollydale and the Kendricks’ house, and I believe you know who he is.”
Matthew just stared silently at him, but Darcy did not move or look away, and it was not long before little Harry burst into tears. “We didn't want to, Mr. Darcy! He said he'd tell Da about the church if we didn't help him!”
“Harry,” Matthew hissed.
“And then Da wouldn’t let us . . .” Harry said in a voice both soft and defiant.
“It is all right,” Darcy reassured them. “We know where the candlesticks are—and I am not placing blame on you.”
The older boy was quiet, his eyes searching for any hint that Darcy was prevaricating. “Will you tell Mr. Milner to send us away?”
Darcy shook his head. “Not at all.”
This resulted in a slight nod. “It was just the candlesticks, sir, and we never took them out of the house. We handed them out the back door, but he said that would protect us.” Harry sniffled, and Matthew frowned at him. “We didn't take nothing else, I swear it.”
