The young lady wiped at her tears. “Yes, of course.”
“When did you last see your companion, Mrs. Jenkinson?”
Her lower lip quivered. She took a deep breath before speaking. “In my room. She brought me tea after supper, as she always did. I was sleepy, so she left the tray and went. I. . .” She hiccupped. “I never saw her again. I assumed she had died in the fire, but my cousin told me she fell down the staircase.”
Mr. Hanbury nodded gravely. “Thank you, madam. I shall not trouble you further.”
***
Hunsford’s testimonies lasted a good part of the day. The constable questioned Elizabeth first, inquiring about her whereabouts on the night of Lady Catherine’s death and the nights that followed. She answered cautiously, telling him only that Charlotte and Maria had come to her room that evening to inform her of the stable boy’s demise. While she mentioned talking to Mr Darcy in the library on the night of Mrs. Jenkinson’s death, she deliberately omitted her encounter with him in the gallery when Lady Catherine was murdered. Her private conversations with Charlotte, where she had shared her suspicions about Mr. Collins, were also kept to herself.
Maria faced similar inquiries, though her narrations were more fanciful and exaggerated. It soon became clear that Mr. Hanbury regarded her youthful exaltation with a veil of scepticism. Charlotte was the last to be questioned, giving a measured account of her movements prior to Lady Catherine’s death and her husband’s wanderings over the past three days. Elizabeth, present as her companion, paid careful attention.
“Mrs. Collins. It is said that Lady Catherine often mistreated your husband. Is this true?”
Maria’s effusive nod did not go unnoticed, neither by Elizabeth nor by Mr. Hanbury. The constable shot her a sharp glance, a silent reprimand for meddling in Mrs. Collins’s testimony.
Charlotte chose her words carefully. “Her Ladyship was uncommonly strict and on occasion, made remarks that some might consider unkind.” She hesitated, then added, “My husband did not take offense. As a clergyman, he understood his patroness’s ways and bore her words with patience and temperance.”
Mr. Hanbury’s expression remained unreadable. “Did your husband ever speak in another tongue?”
Charlotte’s grip tightened around her handkerchief. “Only occasionally, sir. Sometimes he would recite passages in Latin from the Book of Common Prayer.”
The constable pressed his lips together. “You mentioned that he visited the mansion’s chapel frequently after Lady Catherine’s death.”
“Yes. He spent most of his time there in those days. At least, that is what he told me.”
“Did he say why?”
“No. I suppose he sought spiritual comfort.”
“And when you last saw him, what did he say?”
Charlotte began twisting her handkerchief around her finger. Still, her voice remained composed. “Almost nothing. He remained quiet that night when we retired and mostly prayed. He did mention he saw something in the chapel, but did not say exactly what. When I awoke the next morning, he had already left the room.”
Mr. Hanbury rubbed his chin. “Have you ever seen him carrying a weapon? A dagger, a knife, perhaps?”
Charlotte’s gaze lifted in surprise, her voice firm. “Never. My husband was a man of faith. He abhorred violence.”
At last, the ladies were excused, much to their relief.
Elizabeth, however, barely had time to collect herself before Hanbury requested that she summon Mr. Darcy.
Her pulse quickened as she left the room, eager to warn him, to acquaint him with what had been said—and omitted—before he faced questioning. But as soon as she stepped outside, she nearly collided with him.
He was already there, waiting.
Their eyes met over the threshold—hers filled with nervousness and dread, his as calm and steady as ever.
***
Darcy endured more than three hours of incisive questioning, most of it concerning Lady Catherine’s death—unsurprising, given he was one of the few that had witnessed the crime scene. The constable also pressed him about Mr. Collins’s final moments, dwelling very little on the matter of Mrs. Jenkinson.
He chose not to correct the officer’s omission. Dangerous accidents on staircases were fairly common in old houses, and the fall of an elderly woman carrying a tray left little room for doubt. If Hanbury himself deemed it unnecessary to investigate further, Darcy saw no reason to bring the subject to his attention. Doing so might invite unwanted scrutiny, leading to questions he was unwilling to answer.
Finally, Hanbury shifted topics.
“Mr. Darcy, have you ever seen in the house a dagger or a knife with a blue gem on the hilt?”
