Page 17

Ruth stood back and eyed her critically.

“You do not need much, that is certain.” She went to work with the rouge, and Elizabeth soon had a faint blush overspreading her cheeks, and her lips were several shades darker.

Ruth considered and rejected the powder.

She indicated the perfumes and allowed Elizabeth to select one that appealed to her.

Elizabeth found a light, floral scent that included the familiar odor of lavender.

This was soon dabbed all over, including places that caused Elizabeth great mortification.

She bit her tongue and said nothing, and it was soon over.

Ruth left the room with a promise to return with the modiste when she arrived.

Elizabeth stood in the center of the room and turned slowly.

She resolved that her search must be methodical and that she must conduct it in short bursts of activity lest someone enter without warning.

She was very much aware that she did not know precisely what she was searching for; perhaps it would be a means of escape, perhaps something that could be fashioned into a weapon for her defense.

The room did not have a closet, but the wardrobe seemed as good a place as any for her to begin.

She went to the wardrobe and checked it thoroughly, running her hands over the top as far as she could reach and pressing carefully along the back.

Finally, she held up the candle in an effort to see if there was anything behind the piece, but she found only a smooth wall.

The empty bureau received equally close attention, but when Elizabeth heard footsteps in the hall, she quickly seated herself in the chair by the fireplace.

The door opened to reveal a small, stylishly dressed woman.

She was followed by a more plainly dressed woman, obviously her assistant, and two footmen carrying a large number of boxes and parcels. “Miss Bennet, I am the modiste.”

Elizabeth stood and murmured “How do you do” but did not offer her hand.

The woman turned to Ruth. “Another branch of candles, please. There is not enough light here to work properly.”

Ruth returned with the candles, and fittings began.

“You are very fortunate, Miss Bennet,” said the modiste.

Her speech was slightly accented, but Elizabeth could not place it.

“You have a light, graceful figure, a generous bosom, slender limbs, and a good complexion. The style of your hair is quite naive, but I do not recommend cutting it.” She paused and frowned before going on.

“All of these attributes will be very pleasing to the gentlemen. When properly gowned, you will do quite well.”

Elizabeth blanked her expression. There existed only one gentleman on earth she cared about pleasing, and she suspected that it would be unwise to allow that fact to become known here.

“Now we begin. Remove your dressing gown, please, Miss Bennet.” Elizabeth was fitted with a variety of day dresses in sophisticated colors, all of which left too much of her bosom showing.

When she tried to make adjustments, she was prevented from doing so.

Next, she was laced into a corset, and the assistant brought out three evening gowns.

At the moment she tried on the first ensemble—rustling silk the color of rubies with a net overskirt spangled with paillettes—Elizabeth was struck by the enormous finality of her situation.

She knew without looking in the mirror that no decent woman, single or married, would be seen wearing the gown, which left her shoulders virtually bare while plunging to a deep decolletage.

A futile and instinctive effort to adjust the bodice over her bosom was thwarted again by the modiste, and she allowed the assistant to pull the gloves on for her.

She could not and would not look in the mirror .

“A pity,” said the modiste. “You should be wearing rubies with this. Ah, I should not worry. Some gentleman will have you dripping in rubies the second time you wear it.” Elizabeth, horrified, struggled to keep her expression neutral as the second two dresses were fitted—one in royal blue, the other in a startling emerald green.

Meanwhile, Ruth had been busily emptying other bandboxes, storing away chemises, stockings, handkerchiefs, and what appeared to Elizabeth to be plain linen nightdresses.

“You have three silk peignoirs for entertaining,” said the modiste.

“But I believe every woman is entitled to comfortable nightdresses for the times she spends alone.” Elizabeth nodded and watched silently as Ruth put away gloves, fans, reticules, and hair ornaments.

“That will be all for now, Miss Bennet,” said the modiste. “The gowns requiring alterations will be delivered shortly after noon tomorrow. Goodbye for now.”

When the modiste was gone, Elizabeth did her best to sound calm as she spoke.

“Ruth, I make it out to be almost three. Please leave me until it is time to dress for dinner. I will probably decide to eat in my room, but I will make my decision at that time. And please assist me in removing this corset. I should like to dress in one of the simple nightgowns for now.”

“Yes, Miss Bennet.” Ruth unlaced the corset for her, gathered up the discarded chemise and stockings, and handed Elizabeth a long-sleeved nightgown of soft linen.

After Ruth had gone, Elizabeth looked through the bureau until she found the handkerchiefs. She took one, laid down on the bed, covered her face with it, and wept silently and bitterly until sleep came.

Ruth awakened her with a cheerful, “Good afternoon, Miss Bennet. Have you slept well? It is five o’clock.”

Elizabeth’s eyes felt heavy, and she had a headache.

She reminded herself sharply that a headache was all she was likely to get if she allowed herself to give in.

“Yes, thank you Ruth.” Elizabeth breathed deeply and threw off the covers.

Ruth was laying out one of the simple day dresses, much to Elizabeth’s relief.

“I have decided to dine here this evening, Ruth.”

Elizabeth was soon dressed, and Ruth whisked out of the room again with her apparently boundless energy, returning in a few minutes with a well-laden supper tray.

Elizabeth admitted to herself that whatever her other complaints and concerns were, the food was good.

Ruth had turned away to make up the bed, and Elizabeth hid her table knife in the pocket of her gown.

It was, regrettably, not sharp, but it was soft pewter, and she reasoned she might be able to work on it.

She held her breath as Ruth took the dinner tray away, but the girl did not notice.

Brook Street, London - Tuesday, August 4, 18_

Darcy spent Tuesday working tirelessly with his solicitor, with Sergeant Parker, and with Mr. Gardiner on the question of Mrs. Younge’s activities. At one o’clock, Parker and Mr. Gardiner arrived in the house on Brook Street to compare notes and to make further plans.

They began with a report from Parker. “First and foremost,” he began.

“We have enjoyed success with the conveyance to London, thanks largely to those two lads who work for Mr. Bennet as well as a couple of local farmers. The conveyance was an ordinary chaise-and-pair, drawn by two matched grays. It was first seen at the first tollgate south of Meryton by the wife of the gatekeeper at mid-afternoon on the day of Miss Bennet’s abduction.

It was driven by two men in smock-frocks, one in farmer’s gaiters and heavy boots, the other in Hessians.

The woman reports that they were abrupt and rude.

She was unable to make out the passengers because the curtains were drawn. ”

He consulted his notes before continuing.

“I had men out as soon as we had gotten word, and the sightings continued, virtually unchanged, at the first three tollgates. We therefore have three persons who will testify that the passenger they saw on the box was tall and slender. Each and every person interviewed noted the incongruity between the shirt and the boots. At the fourth tollgate, the man in Hessians had been replaced by a stout man wearing heavy boots.” Parker settled back in his chair and looked at Darcy.

“Wickham,” said Darcy.

“Wickham. At least there’s a good possibility it was Wickham.

After the first few tollgates he changed places with the man who had been riding inside.

As I said last night, he has disappeared from view.

We did not begin to search for him in earnest until Monday evening, so it is entirely possible he went into Hertfordshire to oversee the abduction. ”

“And what of Mrs. Younge?”

“I will have more to say about her later, sir. She has not been seen in the rooming-house for several weeks now. The servants will not talk, but neighbors say she left at around the time of Miss Lydia’s abduction. No one has seen her.”

“Yet my solicitors can find no record of any lawful business--acquisitions of property or other transactions.”

“I conducted my investigations in a different fashion,” added Mr. Gardiner. “I have been listening for talk or gossip regarding places of a low moral character. Gambling hells, for example. Or houses of ill fame. My investigations have borne some interesting fruit.”

Darcy leaned forward in his chair, chin on hand, regarding Mr. Gardiner intently .

“About three months ago, two adjoining houses were purchased just steps from here in Audley Street. They were extensively remodeled. It is possible to find merchants and tradesmen who provided furnishings both new and second-hand. Painters, glaziers, carpenters—all were employed on the project. Since then, the houses have been supplied with meats, wines, spirits, groceries--all things necessary to the maintenance of an extensive household—or of a private club. Purchases of wine and spirits have been substantial, and the meats and groceries have all been of the best quality.”