Page 64 of Intrigue and Inheritance (Crime and Consequences #3)

“It is possible,” Elizabeth acknowledged.

“The cups are identical, and I had prepared at least two in exactly the same way. In the general movement around the table, there might have been confusion.” She frowned, shaking her head, and then looked up at Darcy with her eyes wide.

“Wait… I remember! Lady Catherine reached out and took her own cup from the table, as Mrs. Jenkinson was taking Mr. Hislop’s over to him.

Lady Catherine was close enough to reach, and had obviously lost patience with waiting. ”

“Elizabeth,” Darcy said slowly, the pieces beginning to align in his mind, “did Lady Catherine mention to Mrs. Jenkinson that she had changed her tea preference to lemon only, without sugar?”

“I do not believe so,” Elizabeth replied, frowning as she attempted to recall. “Mrs. Jenkinson was not present during our afternoon tea. Lady Catherine informed only me of her physician’s new recommendation.”

“So...” Darcy paused, the pieces rearranging themselves in his mind. “If one wished to poison a specific cup, and knew that the intended victim took their tea in a particular way, one might poison the cup prepared according to that preference, assuming it would go to the intended recipient.”

“But if two people requested their tea prepared identically,” Elizabeth continued, following his reasoning, “and the person administering the poison was unaware that one of them had recently changed their preference to match the other’s...”

“Then the poisoner might have inadvertently delivered the fatal dose to the wrong cup,” Darcy finished, the horrifying possibility now fully formed in his mind.

Darcy moved to the window, needing physical distance from the tea table as his mind processed the shocking possibility. If Elizabeth’s recollection was accurate, then Lady Catherine’s death might have been an error, a poisoned cup intended for Mr. Hislop mistakenly taken by his aunt.

He turned back to Elizabeth, his expression grave as a new connection formed with terrible clarity. “Elizabeth,” he said, his voice low and controlled despite the turmoil within, “if Mr. Hislop was the intended victim, the connection to Lord Joseph’s death becomes clear, does it not?”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened as she grasped his meaning. “Both men were Anne’s suitors,” she said quietly.

“Yes.” Darcy felt the weight of this observation settle between them. “Two gentlemen who showed particular interest in Anne, both apparently targeted for death in the same manner, in our home.”

“But that would suggest...” Elizabeth began, then stopped, seemingly reluctant to articulate the terrible, obvious conclusion.

“That someone objects strongly enough to these attachments to resort to murder,” Darcy finished for her, his voice grim.

He began to pace, his mind working methodically through the possibilities.

“Who would have such a vested interest in Anne’s marital prospects?

Who would benefit from eliminating these particular suitors?

We suspected the marquess, but he was not present at either scene.

But Mrs. Jenkinson…” He trailed off, not wanting to believe it possible.

Elizabeth sank into a nearby chair, her composure slipping. “Mrs. Jenkinson has been with Anne since she was a girl, but she made it clear on numerous occasions that her loyalty was to Lady Catherine’s interests.”

Darcy nodded, the pattern crystallising in his thoughts. “Mrs. Jenkinson was particularly dismissive of Lord Joseph, was she not? I recall several occasions where she interrupted his conversations with Anne or made disparaging remarks about his poetic interests.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth confirmed. “She called his poetry ‘frivolous nonsense’ within his hearing at least once. And she was constantly reminding Anne of her supposed delicate constitution whenever he invited her to walk in the garden or attend musical evenings.”

“And with Mr. Hislop?” Darcy prompted.

“Even worse,” Elizabeth replied. “She openly discouraged Anne from discussing horses with him, insisting it was ‘unladylike’ and would displease Lady Catherine. She seemed particularly agitated when Anne wanted to visit Tattersall’s with him to view the Spanish horses.”

Darcy’s jaw tightened as he recalled other incidents. “She undermined both men in Anne’s presence whenever possible, emphasising their perceived unsuitability. Lord Joseph was too frivolous and flighty, Mr. Hislop too focused on horses and lacking proper aristocratic connections.”

“Yet neither man was discouraged,” Elizabeth observed. “Lord Joseph continued his attentions until his death, and Mr. Hislop has shown remarkable constancy.”

“Which may have driven Mrs. Jenkinson to more desperate measures,” Darcy concluded grimly. “If her usual tactics of discouragement failed, she might have felt compelled to eliminate the threat permanently.”

He resumed his pacing, the cool logic of his mind assembling the evidence piece by piece. “Mrs. Jenkinson has always considered herself the guardian of Anne’s welfare, even against Anne’s own wishes. In her mind, she might believe she is protecting Anne from unsuitable attachments.”

“But to resort to murder?” Elizabeth shook her head, though Darcy could see the reluctant acceptance in her eyes. “It suggests a disturbed mind, surely?”

“Perhaps,” Darcy conceded. “Or a mind so fixated on a single purpose that it justifies any means to achieve it.” He paused, considering.

“Mrs. Jenkinson has lived in Lady Catherine’s shadow for years, carrying out her will, absorbing her prejudices regarding Anne’s marriage prospects.

Imagine if she took those views to their extreme conclusion, convinced that only she truly understood what was best for Anne. ”

Elizabeth looked troubled. “She has always seemed excessively devoted to Anne’s care, to the point of stifling her independence. I thought it merely an extension of Lady Catherine’s controlling nature, but perhaps there is something more... personal in her devotion.”

“Her identity is bound up in being Anne’s companion,” Darcy observed.

A new thought occurred to him, one that sent a chill down his spine.

“If Mrs. Jenkinson is responsible for these deaths, there is a particular perversity in her actions. She has lived her life in service to Lady Catherine, executing her wishes, and yet she may have inadvertently killed the very woman she served so devotedly, all in an attempt to eliminate a suitor she deemed inappropriate.”

Elizabeth nodded slowly. “The ultimate betrayal of her duty, committed in the name of what she perceived as her higher duty to protect Anne.”

Darcy stopped his pacing, turning to face Elizabeth directly. “But there remains the question of means. How would Mrs. Jenkinson obtain arsenic? The magistrate’s search confirmed none is kept in this house.”

“It is not difficult to obtain, unfortunately,” Elizabeth replied.

“Arsenic is sold in many shops for controlling rats and other vermin. Mrs. Jenkinson regularly goes out on her own to purchase small items for Anne or to visit the apothecary for tonics and remedies. She could easily have acquired it during one of these excursions.”

This practical observation strengthened the case against Mrs. Jenkinson in Darcy’s mind. “And she would know how to administer it effectively. As Anne’s companion, she has extensive knowledge of medicines and their proper dosages.”

“She is constantly dosing Anne with various tonics and powders,” Elizabeth agreed. “She would understand how to disguise the taste in tea and how much would be required for a lethal dose.”

Darcy considered another aspect of their theory. “If Mrs. Jenkinson did poison Lord Joseph deliberately, then Lady Catherine’s death was an accident, a case of mistaken identity due to the similar tea preferences.”

Elizabeth frowned. “But why target Mr. Hislop now, when Lady Catherine was here, taking charge of things?”

“I suspect Mrs. Jenkinson knew Anne far better than her own mother did, and had realised that Anne’s increasing independence meant Lady Catherine was in for a severe disappointment when Anne resisted her plans.

” Darcy thought back to interactions he had observed between the companion and her charge.

“She has always taken exceptional pride in her authority over Anne’s welfare, often speaking as though she alone understood Anne’s needs better than anyone, even Anne herself.

And while that may not have been true, she did know Anne very well. ”

“Her reaction to Lady Catherine’s death takes on a new significance in this light,” Elizabeth said after a moment. “Initially, she appeared properly distressed, but afterward, when she spoke with Anne, there was that strange triumph in her manner.”

“She spoke of Anne being ‘free now,’” Darcy recalled. “At the time, it seemed merely inappropriate, but if our suspicions are correct, it reveals her true priorities. Lady Catherine’s death, though unintended, served her purpose by removing the greatest obstacle to her control over Anne.”

Darcy felt the full horror of this interpretation wash over him. “If we are correct, then Mrs. Jenkinson, in her twisted devotion to Anne, has committed one murder deliberately, caused another accidentally, and remains a threat to anyone she perceives as coming between her and her charge.”

“Including us,” Elizabeth said quietly. “We have encouraged Anne’s independence, supported her interest in Mr. Hislop. From Mrs. Jenkinson’s perspective, we too have undermined her position.”

This observation struck Darcy with particular force.

The thought of Elizabeth being in danger from a woman living within their household was intolerable.

His protective instincts surged, tempered only by the knowledge that they needed to proceed carefully.

Accusations of murder required concrete evidence, not merely logical deduction, no matter how compelling.