I didn’t catch what he said as he hurried William away but felt another flush of pleasure. It pleased me more than I could admit to see them appreciating my husband’s good qualities.
Then I was startled to see Mr. Radcliffe come up to me, clearly desiring speech. I was startled because he had never taken much notice of me. I was too plain and quiet to interest a man like him.
“I hear you are the one responsible for reuniting Lady Catherine with her precious pigs,” he said.
“Yes, my husband and I found them while we were on a walk,” I replied composedly, not sure what he was getting at.
He smiled at me, his white teeth looking uncomfortably sharp and wolfish.
“Clever little madam, aren’t you?” he said, suddenly grasping my wrist with his hand.
“Let me go or I will call for my husband,” I said in a low voice.
He must be drunk. There was no other explanation for such bizarre behavior.
“Just keep your nose out of any more sleuthing,” he snarled at me. “Or you’ll be sorry.”
This speech seemed unbearably melodramatic and made me even more suspicious that he must be drunk, although I did not smell alcohol on him. Perhaps he was practicing for a play? But no, even a rake like him wouldn’t dream of putting on a private play in a respectable home.
I said nothing and he repeated, “Keep your nose away from me.”
Then, giving me a little vicious shake, he dropped my arm abruptly and stalked away.
I felt a shiver of fear go through my body. What could this behavior mean? Was he drunk? Or was he really trying to warn me off because he had stolen Lady Catherine’s necklace?
I hastily moved into the dining room, and it was Lady Catherine’s turn to buttonhole me.
“How are you progressing?” she asked, her breath a hot blast of anger in my ear. “Have you found the culprit so I can horsewhip him yet? Perhaps it is two culprits,” she added. “Two unprincipled men who will stop at nothing to hurt me.”
As we sat down to dinner, I reflected on her words.
Two unprincipled men.
Stop at nothing.
They want to hurt me.
And suddenly I thought I knew the solution to the mystery.
“Can you do a nicelongblessing before the meal starts?” I whispered in my husband’s ear. “I need a little bit of time to see if my theory is correct.”
I could not have imaged asking Mr. Collins for such a thing a week ago. But I knew he was the perfect person to create a distraction.
He didn’t ask questions. IfIhad asked for it, I must have had a good reason.
And so he stood up majestically from the table, his waistcoat expanding as he stretched his big arm.
“Before we eat,” he said, beaming upon the assembled company, “I would like to say a few words in praise of this elegant and gracious repast and, of course, our benevolent hostess, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
I noted with a look of wicked inner glee, that Anne, her two suitors, Lizzy, Darcy, Jane, and Bingley, all closed their mouths firmly, surely watering painfully at the delicious smells of the tempting repast before them.
They stared longingly at the glistening roasted boar’s head, the savory cooked goose, the roast beef, the still-steaming mince pies.
Then I turned and slipped along the silent corridors of Rosings, heading for Lady Catherine’s rooms.
I knew my way around very well. I knew the hallways would be almost deserted for the big Christmas meal, all the servants pressed into service for the meal that creaked and strained even Lady Catherine’s big table.
I had a brief moment of doubt before I opened the big ornate doors to her room.
