Page 29 of The Next Mrs Bennet
B oth Richard’s and Liam’s thoughts were back in London as the coach they were seated in travelled towards Rosings Park. Each man was thinking of the woman he loved and hoping the stay in Kent would not be of a long duration. They did not even register that a stop had been made at the Bell in Bromley until they heard laughter from their travelling partners, who were vastly amused by their besotted son and nephew.
By the time they all alighted to use the privy as needed and have a warm drink, the coachman, with the aid of the two footmen, was already unhitching the team that had pulled the conveyance from Matlock House.
Matlock was not in the habit of using horses from inns along the way. It was why a replacement team of four had been sent ahead to the Bell on Saturday. They would be hitched to the carriage as soon as the other team was safely in the stables. That way, by the time they returned, either in a day or so or even later that same day, the two matched pairs being taken to the stables would be more than rested to make the return trip to Grosvenor Square.
“Enough moping about, you two,” Matlock boomed as he clapped his son on the back. “What use will you two mooncalves be in sorting out whatever mess Catherine has made if you walk around lost in your dreams of your lady?”
The two men looked suitably embarrassed at being called out for their inattention to their travelling partners.
“Let the boys be, Reggie,” Lady Elaine suggested. “Surely you remember what it was like to be at the start of a new relationship with one you love? If memory serves, you behaved similarly when we began to court.”
“You spoilt my fun, Elaine,” Matlock stated as he put on a fake look of disappointment. He raised his hands in surrender. “I will not rib them about missing Lizzy and Mary any longer. I need them to be able to assist me, which, if I continue in this vein, they may not be of a mind to do.”
“Richard dear, did you say that everything with your resignation and selling out will be completed by the time we return to London?” Lady Elaine asked to introduce another subject.
“Today all will be done. I am looking forward to having the pleasure of informing Mary about the completion of my leaving the army. I will miss the camaraderie I shared with my fellow officers, even the soldiers, but I do not regret resigning. I realised it was time.” Richard was thinking about his beloved again.
His mother gave up; there was no distracting her son.
After those who needed to relieve themselves did so, they were ushered into a private parlour where tea and a plate of sandwiches made with nice fresh bread was waiting for them. Some of the sandwiches were made with strong cheddar cheese, while the rest were with cold mutton. The tea was welcome, and after they enjoyed the food, more than half still remained on the plate. The countess instructed the serving girl to take the remaining sandwiches along with some hot drinks to their men, who could be found with the Fitzwilliam coach.
To give the men some time to eat and drink, the four waited in the parlour for a while longer before making their way back out into the cold air. The cabin was not too cold as the cooled bricks had been exchanged for newly heated ones. Once Matlock had verified that his men had eaten and slaked their thirsts, he hit the ceiling with the head of his cane and they were soon underway once more.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Less than two hours after departing Bromley, the Fitzwilliam coach passed the palings of Rosings Park, and shortly thereafter the coachman guided the lead horses past the estate’s gateposts. It was only about a half mile until the Baroque-style manor house came into view.
When the conveyance came to a halt under the portico, those within were at a loss as to why there were no footmen on duty waiting to receive them. It was one of the Fitzwilliam footmen who jumped down from the rear bench, extracted the step from its recess and opened the door for those within. Matlock stepped down first and then turned and handed his beloved out. Lady Elaine was followed out by Richard and lastly, Darcy.
“This is strange,” Darcy noted. “Granted I was not here this Easter past, but Lady Catherine has always prided herself on having more than enough servants to do her bidding.”
“I agree,” Matlock responded. “We will get no answers waiting in the cold. I am surprised the butler has not opened the door yet.”
Richard, with Liam at his side, went ahead, and not caring that there was no knocker on the door, something he had never seen at this estate before, he banged on it loudly. It took three times before the door was cracked open.
“Me mistrus arn’t see’in no caller,” an unknown man, who was certainly not the butler, said rudely and was about to push the door closed when both cousins nodded to one another and threw their weight against the door. The force of the two powerful men threw the door open fully, and the man who had attempted to stop them was on his derrière on the marble floor.
“‘Ow dare yer!” The man yelped as he dealt with a rather painful posterior. “Me mistrus will ‘ave yers in the gaol!”
At that moment Richard was thankful he had decided to strap his sabre to his side that morning. He did not know why, but he had just felt like he should have it with him. He unsheathed it now and held it inches from his aunt’s lackey’s neck. “You have one chance to tell me what the blazes is going on here before I send you to hell,” he threatened. The man turned pallid and began to sweat.
Lord Matlock stepped forward. “Where is the butler?” he demanded. “Why are you answering the door in his stead?”
“Uncle, before he replies, allow me to summon your footmen, the postillion, and coachman. In addition, I think we should arm ourselves with the brace of pistols below one of the seats,” Darcy suggested. His uncle nodded, and Darcy took off at a run to collect the men and the weapons.
When he returned, Darcy had a pistol in each hand. He was followed by the four armed men who handed a pistol to his uncle and two to Richard.
“Speak now man, or I will not be responsible for what my son does to you,” Matlock barked at the terrified man on the floor. He told how Lady Catherine had employed him and a few other men who had been willing to work for her on Saturday past. Their first job had been to lock most of the staff and servants, whom the lady claimed were disloyal, into some windowless rooms. He related how they had been told that no one was to be admitted to the house, and she was not to be disturbed.
Even though his story was plausible, Richard tied the man up very securely to make sure he could not warn the others or act against them. For good measure he was gagged.
“Elaine, I would feel easier if you returned to the coach with one of the men to guard you until we know what is happening here,” Matlock stated firmly. “You know I will never be able to forgive myself if aught happens to you. According to that man, there are at least two more men working for Catherine. We need to subdue them before I will feel easy with you being inside of the house.”
Her first instinct was to argue, but Lady Elaine realised her presence would distract Reggie, and that would not be helpful. She gave a tight nod and turned back towards the front door with the armed coachman following behind.
“Let us make for my sister’s throne room,” Matlock instructed. The six men made their way to the drawing room in which Lady Catherine had her gaudy, throne-like chair.
There were two more ruffians standing guard outside of the drawing room. Before either could say a word, the barrels of pistols were pointed at their heads. The men froze. No amount of money was worth their lives. Richard and the two footmen led them away from the room they had been guarding and down a hallway.
“Do you two know where the staff and servants have been locked away?” Richard growled.
At first neither man was inclined to answer. As soon as the two footmen pushed the barrel of the pistol each held into the backs of the men, they changed their tune very quickly. Both nodded.
“Kingston, take that one and secure him where the other one is being kept, then return to the drawing room to assist my father and cousin. Also, you may have my mother and Smith join us. I do not think there are any more of these men my aunt has installed roaming the house.”
“Aye, Colonel, sir,” the footman replied and then led the man away.
“Now you, lead us to the rooms. You have one chance to tell me what the blazes is going on here before I send you to hell,” he threatened. The man turned pallid and began to sweat when, to highlight his point, Richard rested the blade of his sabre on the man’s shoulder.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
After lashing the newly captured man to a column near the first man they had bound and gagged, the footman returned with Lady Matlock and the coachman. They arrived just as the Earl pushed the drawing room door open and entered, followed by Darcy and Grant. Kingston hurried, so he entered the room alongside the postillion. The Earl held back until his wife was next to him.
“ I said I was not to be …” Lady Catherine began to yell. Her mouth closed with a clack when she saw who had entered the room. She had to think of a plausible story, and soon. She knew her brother, sister-in-law, and Fitzwilliam would not be put off for long—it was far too soon. She still had much to sort out before she had intended to contact her family. What poor luck for her that some of her family members arrived right now. It was then she noticed that her brother, nephew, and the two servants with them were all carrying pistols. Surely they did not know…
“Catherine, where are your butler, the housekeeper, Mrs Jenkinson, and the servants? And where is my niece?” Matlock insisted.
The tale she would tell came to her in that instant. “Oh, Brother,” she wailed with put-on sadness. “I had to sack all of them because of their neglect. Anne,” she dabbed imaginary tears from her eyes, “passed away on Saturday.”
“Are you telling me that Mrs Jenkinson, who began as Anne’s governess and was supremely loyal to her all of these years, allowed anyone to hurt my niece?” Matlock asked disbelievingly. “What you say does not explain the men, who are, by the by, now in my custody—men who attempted to stop us entering the house.”
“Reggie, we all know that Catherine would not be able to tell the truth if her life depended on it. I think there has been some foul play at hand here, and we should have the magistrate and constable summoned,” Lady Elaine asserted.
“You are correct, Elaine. If, as Catherine claims, the actions of any staff member or servant led to Anne’s death, they shall need to be prosecuted to the extent allowable by the law.” Matlock turned back to his sister, who was not looking happy. “If you sacked all the staff and servants, how is it your underlings locked them away, at your behest, mind you?”
Lady Catherine was shocked. How did her family know that the nothings had been detained? She should have known she could not trust the three men she had employed to assist her.
“I am sure there is no need to bother Lord Metcalf and Mr Haversham. Anne’s death was a tragedy; mayhap, I claimed it was because of a servant due to my grief. I am sure no one is to blame…” Before Lady Catherine could say another word, an irate Mrs Jenkinson burst into the room and slapped the shocked woman across the cheek with all of her fury-driven strength.
Richard and the second footman entered the room behind the irate woman, followed by the senior staff and some of the other servants.
“Miss Anne was like a daughter to me! I loved her as you never did, and all because of your avarice, you killed her !” Mrs Jenkinson spat out at the reeling woman who was gripping her reddening cheek.
“How did my sister kill her daughter?” Matlock asked evenly.
“Reggie, you cannot take the word of a servant over mine, a nobly born woman,” Lady Catherine insisted when she recovered the power of speech. “She is covering up her own culpability, and I also want her arrested for assaulting a peer!”
“As Elaine pointed out, you are the only one who likes to prevaricate. If there is one person who would never hurt Anne, it is Mrs Jenkinson.” Matlock inclined his head towards the lady. “Anyone who saw the way she cared for my niece could see the truth of her words that she related to Anne as a mother to a daughter. You, on the other hand, Catherine, love no one or nothing but your own desires. Hence, Mrs Jenkinson’s accusation of avarice is nothing but the truth; we all know that. I will hear what the lady has to say, and if you interfere, I will have you bound and gagged!” Matlock signalled his footmen, who took up stations either side of the hideous chair. He nodded to the companion to continue.
Richard was watching his aunt. He could see her fury building. It was then he saw her reach into her reticule and start withdrawing something. It was the handle of a weapon. He jumped forward, his sabre in hand, in the blink of an eye. “Aunt Catherine, if you want to continue breathing, I would release that and remove your hand from your reticule,” he ordered as he brought the tip of his sabre close to her throat. “Liam, relieve Aunt Cat of her pistol, please.”
With the tip of the sabre inches from her throat, Lady Catherine was too fearful to admonish her traitorous nephew about using the hated form of her name. She had bigger problems now.
“It is a Queen Anne pistol,” Darcy reported as he lifted the small weapon for all to see.
“She used that to threaten us and make sure we complied as more and more of us were locked in rooms by her thugs,” Mrs Jenkinson told and the others in the room who had been locked up nodded their agreement. “For a few years, Lady Catherine had her apothecary make a tonic to help Miss Anne. Recently, the poor dear would get very sluggish and incoherent actually. I believe this woman began to add greater and greater amounts of laudanum to the tincture because Miss Anne wanted to contact you to ask that the addendum to her father’s will be executed. She knew she would never be able to manage Rosings Park as needed. When I tasted it, I could tell my surmise was correct, laudanum in ever-growing quantities was being added to the tonic .
“When I confronted this woman ,” Mrs Jenkinson looked at Lady Catherine with intense dislike for what she had done, “she declared me insane and had me locked up, so my poor Miss Anne had no one to protect her. She must have increased the dose of laudanum beyond what Miss Anne was able to tolerate, and that cost Anne her life.
“As soon as other staff and servants began to speak of what occurred, the men you detained were employed by her, and the rest of the staff and servants who opposed what she was doing, which was everyone other than her lady’s maid, were locked away as well.”
“I refused to add more of the drug to Miss Anne’s tonic,” the housekeeper relayed. “I did see her,” she looked at Lady Catherine disdainfully, “add laudanum to the tonic. On the second occasion, Saturday morning, I spoke up, and I was locked into the same room as Mrs Jenkinson. By the evening, all of us you found today, Colonel, had been locked in together.”
“That was ‘cause Miss Anne were not breaving no more,” one of the Rosings Park footmen said.
“Yes, Catherine, we most certainly need the magistrate and constable. How could you? She was your daughter!” Matlock knew his sister believed things to be as she thought they should be, but he had never thought she would push things to this extent to get her own way.
“The estate becomes my property,” Lady Catherine ranted. “If Fitzwilliam had done his duty to me, married her, and taken her north to Pemberley, all would have been well. It is his fault Anne is dead!” She looked around the room with wild eyes. “She was not married; the estate is mine, so all of you leave now!” she screeched.
“You murdered your daughter for no good reason. Your husband wrote an addendum to his will. There are no circumstances under which any of this would ever be yours.” Matlock paused as his wife laid her hand on his nearest arm to calm him as his fury at his sister built towards the point it would erupt.
“ Noooo ! It is not true; Rosings Park, the fortune, the house in London are all mine!” Lady Catherine asserted.
“Not to add more bad news, but the sycophant you sent to Hertfordshire to find a bride among his cousins is now a resident at Bedlam. He had declared that the papers ending the entail on his cousin’s estate were fraudulent and that you assured him of that fact.” Lady Elaine revealed. “You sent that dunderheaded bootlicker to my niece’s and nephew’s estate. The Bennet daughters are granddaughters of a duke. I am sure you realise that makes them higher than the daughter of an earl, as you think that elevates you above all else. It does not! You are not now, nor have you ever been, a peeress. You, Cat , are a commoner.”
She cared not where the idiot Collins was, but he must have said something to them which had sent them to Rosings Park and the discovery of her plans before Catherine was ready to gain everything she had been due!
“You will not have me arrested and tried! You would never countenance the scandal,” Lady Catherine crowed.
“That is where you are very wrong, just like you have been about everything else, Catherine. Do not forget to whom Elaine and I are related. You will pay the price for murdering my niece,” Matlock barked. His sister shrank back in fear as the realisation that her trump card had been anything but, hit her. Matlock nodded to his two footmen, who led Lady Catherine to one of the rooms where she had had her people herded into and imprisoned.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The undertaker was summoned as well; he arrived not long after the magistrate had ordered Lady Catherine’s arrest. Mrs Jenkinson assisted Lady Elaine in preparing the mortal remains of Anne de Bourgh for burial.