Page 47 of The Countess and Her Sister

The room erupted in noisy panic. Mr. Bingley tried to address them all, and was obliged to let out a loud whistle to call them all to attention.

“Everyone, listen to me. Thomas could not have gone far. We shall split up into pairs and search the house for the lad, and question any servants you see about.” He offered his hand to Jane.

As they began arranging themselves, Mr. Bingley continued to issue orders.

“Darcy and Miss Bennet, Richard and Lady Susan – search upstairs in the east wing. No funny business. Lady Rebecca, you and your mother come with Jane and I to search the west – that is the family wing, is it not, my darling?”

Jane clasped his arm and nodded her head, her expression one of wild hysterics.

“The rest of you, search downstairs,” Mr. Bingley boomed. “Leave no corner unturned.”

“Yes, yes,” Mrs. Bennet cried. “We will search until we have found him, if it takes all night!” When Jane let out a painful groan, Mrs. Bennet patted Jane’s shoulder.

“Well, he is probably hiding under a table somewhere, like you used to do in Mr. Bennet’s book room!

I daresay he only had a bad dream and woke up frightened in an unfamiliar house. ”

“Off with you all, make haste,” Mr. Bingley cried.

He hovered near Jane as she clung to Lady Augusta, and was dragged along after them by Rebecca, who was as grim as Elizabeth had ever seen her.

Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy followed Richard and Lady Susan.

Upstairs, they lit extra candles and split up, each pair starting at the far ends of the guest wing, that they might converge in the middle.

Elizabeth held Mr. Darcy’s hand as they hastened down the corridor, flinching at the flickering shadows that seemed to twist with ill omen. By the time they reached the furthest room, her breathing was ragged and tears pricked at her eyes. She called out for Thomas, her voice shaking.

Mr. Darcy set his candle aside and embraced her.

“We will find him. He cannot have gone far. Georgie was a few years older than Thomas when our mother died, and she started walking in her sleep. We found her in the strangest places, and finally had to lock her in her room at night until the episodes passed.”

Elizabeth gave a tense nod, finding little comfort in his arms. “It must be that – the unfamiliar house, and the tense atmosphere recently…. My first thought was that Mrs. Bennet had done something horrid.”

“She has been with us all this whole time, and she would not wish any ill to befall him. She was just as distressed as everyone else.”

Elizabeth knit her brow with troubled doubt. “Just as much, yes – I would expect her to be five times more agitated, and call for her smelling salts.”

Mr. Darcy frowned. “I… I understand your suspicion – I would not wish to say anything of Mrs. Bennet I would regret when we find Thomas, as I am sure we shall.”

He released her, and they began their search.

The party in residence had not even required all of the family rooms; the guest rooms had all been closed down for years.

Dust sheets and holland covers were draped over most of the larger pieces of furniture, giving the first room they searched an eerie aspect.

They looked beneath all the sheets, opened the armoire and looked behind the dressing screen, thoroughly checking every place a child might be hiding.

They repeated their inspection in four more rooms, calling out for Thomas, to no avail. Richard and Lady Susan had searched the other three rooms, and had found them all empty. They made their way downstairs, where none of the searchers had found the missing child.

“Jane is questioning the servants and I shall go and help her,” Mrs. Bennet cried. “I am sure the lazy governess must be responsible!”

Mr. Tilney, who had unhappily been paired to search with Mrs. Bennet, looked relieved to now part with her. “Perhaps the little chap wandered outside? Should we expand our search?”

“Oh, dear, he could have wandered out into the garden, or be God knows where! If he has taken a tumble over the ha-ha, or gone down to the stream….” Lady Augusta fanned herself and clung to Rebecca.

They exchanged their candles for lanterns and torches, and spread out in their pairs to scour the grounds. After an hour of increasing panic, Elizabeth actually screamed aloud when a shot rang out in the air. Mr. Darcy gave her hand a gentle tug, and she followed his gaze back toward the manor.

Mr. Bingley stood on the front step, his pistol aloft.

In the doorway, Mrs. Bennet stood with Thomas in her arms. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief, and she and Mr. Darcy took off running.

Everybody converged all at once and made their way back to the drawing room, where Mrs. Bennet was fussing over her grandchild.

“You found him,” Lady Augusta said with a modicum of disbelief as she took Thomas in her arms, fairly prying him from Mrs. Bennet’s grasp.

Elizabeth rushed to ensure that her nephew was unharmed. “Where was he?”

“He was in Jane’s room,” Mrs. Bennet said.

“But Lady Jane searched it herself,” Mr. Bingley said, his cheeks coloring a little. “Lady Augusta and Lady Rebecca searched their own rooms and the Gardiners’, and yours, Miss Bennet, while I looked over the empty rooms. Lady Jane would have found him, surely.”

“He was under the bed,” Mrs. Bennet replied, bristling at his doubt. “I suppose Jane did not look there.”

Elizabeth looked around, but she did not see her sister. “Where is Jane?”

“She went to question the servants,” Mrs. Bennet replied.

Rebecca looked quizzically at Elizabeth. “Would she not have heard the gunshot? Perhaps I better go get her.”

“Let me take Thomas to bed,” Lady Gardiner said. “I ought to check on my own little brood; I am amazed they have not awakened.”

“I shall serve you all some tea while we wait for Jane,” Mrs. Bennet said sweetly.

She busied herself with the tea things at the back of the room, bidding her youngest daughters to play something merry on the pianoforte.

Mary did her best to fumble through a song as Kitty turned the pages and Lydia sang.

Mrs. Bennet served the gentlemen their tea first, fussing over how they must have exerted themselves, and then she began to steep a new pot.

Elizabeth was the last to be served any refreshment; she waited in anxious silence for her sister to return, and Mr. Darcy sat quietly at her side, politely watching her sisters’ performance.

Nobody else paid them much attention as they chatted merrily amongst themselves.

They all seemed relieved to have found Thomas, and ready to relax – but Elizabeth could not.

When Rebecca returned to the room alone, Elizabeth shot up from her seat, her gut wrenching. “Where is Jane?”

Rebecca looked past Elizabeth, fixing a steely glare on Mrs. Bennet. “None of the servants ever saw Jane.”

Mrs. Bennet tittered nervously, her eyes fixed on the fire blazing in the hearth, which cast an evil glow about her. Elizabeth tensed. “Madam, did you not say that Jane had gone to question the servants?”

“One of the footmen did see something interesting,” Rebecca said, stalking toward Mrs. Bennet, her hands clenched in fists at her side.

Everyone else seemed to likewise drift closer to Mrs. Bennet.

“He was not eager to betray his friend, but Jack saw the young lady that is partial to Johnny, the cook’s boy. The maid employed by Montrose.”

“Oh! The shameless girl! She will bring a scandal into my house! I shall let her go at once, though good servants are so hard to find,” Mrs. Bennet cried.

Mary gave up the instrument and moved closer to her mother with a pained look. “Mamma, did you see Jane speaking with the servants?”

“I saw her going to speak with the servants. She is mistress of the house – who else would do it?”

Rebecca looked like a predator ready to pounce. “If she was never with them, where is she?”

Lady Augusta hugged herself, visibly shaking. “Something is amiss. I think we had better send for the magistrate, and perhaps a physician. If Jane went looking for Thomas alone, and was injured….”

Elizabeth looked desperately around the room. “Those of you who searched downstairs, did none of you see her?” She received a chorus of negatives, all worried murmurs and solemn shakes of their heads.

Mr. Darcy squeezed her hand in his before moving away; he positioned himself in front of one of the doors to the drawing room, his eyes fixed on Mrs. Bennet.

Richard took Darcy’s place hovering protectively at Elizabeth’s side, while Sir Edward crossed the room to block the other door, his face like unforgiving stone.

Mr. Tilney stood shakily and stumbled over an upturned corner of the rug with an airy laugh as he went to stand beside Sir Edward.

Mrs. Bennet tore her gaze from the fire to look about with panic. “Do you all think something has befallen Jane?”

Mr. Bingley finished the last of his tea and set the cup down with a loud clatter. “Do you not, Madam?”

“Oh, I hardly know,” Mrs. Bennet gasped, fluttering her handkerchief. “But if you are afraid for her, perhaps we had better begin another search. Oh, poor Jane!”

Rebecca ripped the handkerchief away from the fussy woman, clenching it in her fist, her diminutive stature still fearfully imposing.

“You did not answer my question, Madam. Since you have not called for your smelling salts, which I understand is your customary reaction to anything remotely alarming, I do not believe you to be the least bit concerned.”

“I am all aflutter, I am sure,” Mrs. Bennet wailed.

Mr. Bingley came to stand near Richard and Elizabeth, who had been silently boiling with rage that threatened to burn the whole room down.

“Richard, I heard tell of a great jape of yours,” he said loudly.

“You and Lady Rebecca worked some great mischief on a cousin of Lady Thurston who fell asleep in her ballroom.”