Chapter 11

For Nancy Corrigan and her mistress, weeks and months passed quietly without anything worth remarking about. Corrigan continued lessons on the piano and harp, only learning a few light tunes so far, but slowly increasing a small, peaceful repertoire she could play for her mistress as she worked in her art room. Her ladyship did little besides draw and read. Without a master to instruct her, there was no point in practicing the harp. The scenery beyond the windows tempted her only occasionally, when the colours were too vivid and arresting to resist. Mostly she sketched and drew her family. She would not voice names to the people in the portraits, but she drew the same faces over and over, nearly all very beautiful ladies, and a few children. Nancy questioned her about it once, and the young woman only said that she feared that she might forget them as they had her, and so she drew them over and over, that their faces might be etched upon her memory forever.

One subject was drawn far more than all the others combined. A handsome gentleman, far over a decade older than her ladyship if a day, with dark and handsome, brooding, yet compassionate eyes. Somehow, Corrigan knew this was no mere brother or cousin. When his lordship set eyes upon a series of sketches of the man displayed about the room, his lips had thinned unhappily. It was obvious to him what he had helped to steal from this girl, and he disliked the reminder. After this, he visited the art room much less frequently, preferring to dine with his young wife twice a week instead.

Her ladyship continued to take her exercise in the walled butterfly garden when the weather permitted. She turned her interest to gardening, for lack of any other outdoor employment, and often worked in the soil and transplanted flowers, the gardener patiently advising her, and producing seeds or flowering plants that her husband had provided upon her request. Upon learning that her husband had built the garden to lure butterflies in for a collection he had pinned upon a wall, she had become quite inconsolable, and had refused to return to the garden again until he visited her rooms and swore to leave them in peace. The young lady spent hours in the walled garden whenever she was able, sketching butterflies or flowers, and pacing briskly up and down the paths.

These few pleasures were her only amusement, but she had accepted her lot and had ceased writing to her sisters. Instead, she had begun to write fairy stories, and stories for children. She confided to Corrigan that she had been quite the favourite with her younger cousins and niece when visiting Derbyshire and London, for her talent for telling riveting stories. She wrote all sorts, pirate sword fights, expeditions to Africa, cowboys and indians in America, princesses, fairies, dragons, and magic cities. She said that she had to make up all kinds of adventures, in order to be fair to the interests of each of her young cousins and her niece. She wrote and illustrated many stories, then patiently sewed the pages together to make little books, which his lordship found charming, and later he had them professionally bound as a gift to her.

*****

When the Darcy family removed to London, life continued on much as it had the previous year. Mary brought out Maria Lucas and escorted Miss Long in London, as planned. There were only a few events to note that year, the first of which concerned the trouble with Marianne. The Ferrars and Mrs Dashwood had visited Marianne at Rushworth, the Spencer estate near Plymouth. Margaret had steadfastly refused to attend the visit, and had subsequently gone to Pemberley to visit Granny Rose. Upon their return, the party detoured to London, where they stayed at Pemberley House, and Elinor and Edward confided in Elizabeth.

"The situation at Rushworth is quite unhappy indeed. Everyone in the situation got what they wanted out of the arrangement, and yet the entire household is miserable except for Mr Spencer and his mother. Spencer's sisters treat Marianne like a fallen woman. Marianne snubs all of the Spencer women and acts like they ought to be grateful to her for providing them a measure of security. She is not allowed to walk alone, thank heavens, but she is quite angry about the fact. She is accompanied by a hearty and energetic maid who has seven brothers, and followed by two grooms on horseback, which makes it impossible to outrun her escorts, and this causes her to behave atrociously," related Elinor.

"Spencer doesn't help the matter either. I admit she gives him no reason for confidence, but that is no reason not to give the girl a chance to be mistress of her own home," continued Edward. "Before, he claimed he did not wish her to tax herself while pregnant, but her child is several months old, and the elder Mrs Spencer is still running the household. Spencer claims she lost the respect of the servants before she had it, but I believe that if she had more responsibility, it would force her to mature. If her servants will not learn to respect her as she learns her duties, then they should be replaced. I saw nothing to suggest that he ever had any intention of setting Marianne up as the proper mistress of his estate. It appears he plans to allow his mother to continue indefinitely as lady of the manor, and, in addition, he appears to have little interest in the child he claimed he would raise as his own. Even when the child was in the drawing room with our entire party, Spencer barely spared the boy a glance."

"Not that the elder Mrs Spencer seems any way unkind," Elinor rushed to add. "Indeed, it seems that she is the one who is most kind to Marianne, not that my sister receives it well. But when Marianne gives an order, the servants ignore her. It is worse than if she was just not the mistress of the house. It is as if she does not exist at all. Marianne ordered tea for us one afternoon when we were conversing in a private parlour, and it never came. Eventually Marianne had to go to Mrs Spencer and ask her to order it. I realise Marianne's behaviour has been beyond the pale, but my poor sister was quite mortified. I could not discern if the servants ignore her out of disrespect, or by Mrs Spencer's design."

Elizabeth and Darcy were both troubled by this news, and when the Ferrars had returned to Derbyshire, Elizabeth asked Richard to write to Captain Spencer. Darcy would have done it, but Richard knew Spencer well, and might be a better choice for a direct conversation.

Darcy House,

Mayfair, London

Spencer,

What the devil is going on there at Rushworth? Lord and Lady Darcy expect me to sort this out, considering it was I who promoted you for this arrangement.

I understand the girl is impulsive and often uncivil, but you knew this from the very beginning, and from my own lips. We would never have allowed you to wed her if we knew your family meant to use her child to your benefit, and then treat her as a fallen woman. Lady Darcy wishes me to inform you that she does not consider your disrespect in allowing your mother precedence over your wife to be cruelty as per the terms of the settlement, but she does consider it to be inconsiderate, disrespectful, and believes it will never encourage your household to respect the new Mrs Spencer.

Lady Darcy suggests that if Mrs Spencer began slowly learning the household and taking it over as is appropriate, she would have some useful employment, and might hopefully settle into her new position. You cannot expect a woman to settle into a position another woman is still occupying. Any servants who cannot learn to respect their new mistress ought to be replaced. You selected Mrs Spencer for your bride. It is unfair of you to allow your family to treat her as a fallen woman now. My wife's cousin reports that your servants ignore your wife entirely, even refusing to bring their party tea in the drawing room until Mrs Spencer asked your mother's permission for it. What disrespect is this, man? How can you allow this in your house?

Please take your household in hand, if only to spare Darcy and I the recriminations of our wives, who are concerned for their cousin.

Respectfully,

Fitzwilliam

As summer approached in May of 1851, Elizabeth and Darcy were invited to Caroline Bingley's wedding. Darcy was rather alarmed, because he had been left the management of Miss Bingley's dowry and he had not been applied to in order to approve the marriage settlement. Darcy and Elizabeth visited Mr and Mr Hurst's townhouse, and learned that Miss Bingley had met the Earl Whitman in Bath, and that the nobleman seemed extremely taken with Caroline.

Elizabeth ordered a report from Montague on the man, but Darcy already knew that he had a terrible reputation for gambling away shockingly large sums in mere moments, and that he was in deep trouble financially. Darcy spent an hour closeted with Hurst discussing the matter, and then Darcy and Hurst made an attempt to show Caroline the evidence that her betrothed was not only a fortune hunter, but also an absolutely appallingly bad gambler who could and likely would lose her entire fortune in less than a night. He was known to already owe more than her dowry already. They tried everything they could think of. Darcy even promising to ask his aunt to sponsor her for a season in London. He made it clear that someone had to release her dowry, and that Darcy was the only one here to do it and he did not approve. He had attempted to call upon Whitman himself only to be turned away at the door.

Caroline insisted that she would marry Lord Whitman, and that surely when he returned, her brother would turn over her dowry when he saw she was happy. She steadfastly refused to listen to all of Darcy's and the Hurst's pleas. Darcy, who had not heard from Charles for some time, sent an express to Italy, where they had last been known to be, telling him that there was no point hurrying home, the letter would not reach them in time, but he was just informing Bingley that his sister was heedlessly marrying a fortune hunter, and Darcy could do nothing but withhold her dowry until Charles returned and decided how he wanted to manage it.

The Darcys attended Caroline's wedding, and the bride was wearing an appalling gown in a putrid shade of orange that Elizabeth had never seen before on a piece of fabric. The groom's terms had been no fuss and no wedding breakfast. For Caroline, who was becoming a countess, and a June bride in Mayfair, a large, elaborate affair was something she was willing to compromise on. She did want a large wedding, but she wanted to be a countess more. As Caroline was being handed up into the carriage immediately following the ceremony, Lord Whitman said to Darcy, "I shall call upon you tomorrow to discuss the dowry, Darcy."

Shortly after, Darcy said to Elizabeth in their own carriage, "I do not know what it is that he believes he's calling about. If he had taken my calls before the wedding, he would know that due to his refusal to sign a marriage settlement before the ceremony, I have to withhold the dowry. I must so do now, until Charles returns and decides what to do about his sister's decision. She has made a very unhappy bed for herself, I think it would be safe to wager, although I take no satisfaction in saying so."

Lord Whitman called the next day and was incredibly irate when he learned that Caroline's dowry was not freely hers, but in trust, and that by marrying her with no settlement meant he had forfeited it unless the trustee approved it. Usually, things went the other way when there was no settlement, but Bingley had protected his sister's interests well. Darcy could have made the funds available to Whitman if he had signed the proper marriage settlement laid down by Charles and Caroline's father, but only if he had done so before the wedding. Because he had refused to sign it before the marriage, he had to wait for the trustee to make himself available to approve it. The last they had heard, Charles had been in Italy, and pondering his next destination. The Bingleys were certainly not on their way home anytime soon.

When Lord Whitman realised that Darcy could not change the outcome of the situation even if he wished to, he stormed out of the house, telling Darcy that he could inform Lady Whitman's family that they could see and hear from her again once he was paid. The Whitmans left London and rented out their house. No one noticed them go, indeed they seemed to disappear into the night. The Darcys had Mr Montague send someone to find out where they were going, and keep an eye on the area they were staying in. Montague's men sent word that the couple had gone to the country estate of a friend of Whitman's.

The friend was Viscount Compton, who kept an estate not far from Hempstead and was rumoured to hold nearly forty thousand in Whitman's vowels. As was typical, the very servants that needed to be bribed, would not be bribed, though the investigator suggested these servants seemed more afraid than loyal. Viscount Compton had a terrible reputation in the ton, and lived a scandalous, debauched life. The only information that could be obtained was that Lord and Lady Whitman were in residence, and the master was not entertaining. The servants would not reveal more. Elizabeth and Darcy kept men in the village near Compton's estate, who would send information as it became available.

*****

Louisa Hurst took to calling on the Darcys to find out if more was known daily, though they promised to inform her and Mr Hurst the moment anything was learned. Word had come a week or so after they had left town that Lord Whitman and Viscount Compton had left the country, and were back in the clubs and gaming hells of London. Intelligence from the investigators indicated that Caroline had not accompanied them. Louisa was distressed indeed, for weeks passed without word from her sister, and she pleaded with Hurst to travel to Hempstead. However, Viscount Compton's ruthless reputation was well known, and Hurst was loath to present himself on the man's doorstep without invitation and make matters worse. The Darcys had planned to go to Netherfield for the summer, but they waited in town with the Hursts this year instead, as they waited for news of Caroline.

Some weeks later, a hysterical letter from Charles arrived from Italy explaining that Jane was with child, and that it would be some months before they began the journey home, but that he was quite concerned regarding the content of some letters he had received all in a packet with Darcy's from the last hotel they had stayed in. Lord Whitman and Viscount Compton had sent letters that had been forwarded by Charles's attorney, and threatened any number of terrible fates would befall Caroline if Bingley did not pay Compton the forty thousand pounds that was owed by her husband immediately. A letter from Caroline was included with their missives, begging her brother's forgiveness for marrying such a man in her ignorance, but claiming that her situation was dire, and begging him to come and save her.

Upon Darcy reading this missive to her, Elizabeth immediately got up and rang for Banks and instructed him to send Wilson out to the hells and locate Lord Whitman and Viscount Compton. They were to be instructed to wait upon her at Pemberley House to collect their payment, but that Lady Whitman must be with them in order to collect the funds. Word was sent to instruct Montague to get her funds in order to be withdrawn by bank draft. When Banks left Elizabeth's study, she rang for a footman, and asked him to deliver messages to the Hursts and Fitzwilliams, asking them to come to Pemberley House. Darcy asked her what her intentions were, and Elizabeth replied, "Precisely what I said. I am paying the men their money, and ensuring the safety of Lady Whitman."

"You are just going to hand the money over?" inquired Darcy, completely shocked. "Forty thousand pounds, just like that, without a second thought?"

"After what happened to Kitty over my refusal to be generous with my own father, I have learned not to trifle with the safety of sisters. She is Charles and Jane's sister and I believe that it is the very least I could do. The money is not important," Elizabeth answered.

"And Caroline Bingley is that important to you?" Darcy asked, amazed.

"Yes, Will, somehow I find that indeed she is. She is a woman, and a relation to our family. I would pay it even if she was of the barest acquaintance." Elizabeth's husband made no more argument. He knew how she felt about not having given Mr Bennet the money he wanted. She had agonised many times that if she had only offered the man what he wanted years ago, he would have given over her sisters easily, and they would have been quite safe. Darcy had pointed out that he could also have used the girls to extort Elizabeth many times over, but she would not hear him. She blamed herself entirely for what had happened to Kitty, and swore she would never forgive herself.

The Hursts arrived in record time, and an hour and a half later, the butler announced Banks and Mr Montague. Montague had come himself, being an attorney in addition to an investment banker, thinking he might be able to draw up any legal documents that Lady Darcy required in case it proved necessary. He came bearing news. "Lady Darcy, while I am surprised at your desire to pay the full sum to this man, I must say it may have come at not a moment too soon for Lady Whitman. I received intelligence this evening that Lord Whitman purchased life insurance policies for himself and his wife three days ago."

Elizabeth gasped and Darcy swore out loud as he paced the room agitatedly. "Damn and blast! I should have locked Caroline Bingley up rather than allow her to marry that swine! I ought to have done more than just attempt to convince her. I ought to have stopped her! How will Bingley ever forgive me?"

Mrs Hurst began to cry, "What if it is too late? We do not know what has happened, they could already have harmed her!"

"That is unlikely, madam," interrupted Montague. "Although Lady Whitman has not been seen outside of Compton's estate, we do know she did not come to London with the men. My intelligence is that the men were in town as of yesterday, and have been for some weeks. They could have had time to travel to Hempstead by now, but I doubt they would be foolish enough to harm her so soon after opening the insurance policy. They would be hanged for certain in such a circumstance, but it is imperative that we locate Lady Whitman and ensure her safety as quickly as possible, and to this end I have sent three of my men to assist Wilson in searching the clubs. I have men watching them, but I do not expect a report from them before tomorrow morning, so I do not know their current location."

Elizabeth poured tea and served cakes, and the party waited. The guests sat with them through tea and then dinner and still, they waited. By late at night Mr Montague had left to send out more men. Darcy and Fitzwilliam went out as well, assuring their wives there was to be no trouble. They were only going out to help locate the men, and invite them back to Pemberley House as Elizabeth had requested.

Mrs Fitzwilliam and the Hursts stayed the night, and all three women waited with Charlotte late in Elizabeth's private sitting room for their husbands to return while Hurst waited downstairs. It was a few hours before morning when the men came in, having given up. They had searched every club and gaming hell in the city, and had given up when they were told that Whitman and Compton had spoken of attending a house party in the country. No one knew the host or location of said entertainment, but word was the men had left London.

Elizabeth suggested that the party get a few hours of sleep, and then they should leave at dawn for Hempstead. They might not know where the men were, but Elizabeth would feel better being closer to where Caroline was being held. The family was ready to depart the following morning when Mr Montague himself arrived upon the doorstep. "The men have been found, your ladyship! Let us go inside, and I will tell you what I know."

The party reentered the house, and went into the drawing room. "I already had two men following Lord Whitman and Viscount Compton, madam, and it took some time for them to follow them last night and return with information. My men just arrived at my home an hour ago to tell me of an exclusive soiree at the home of Lady Amherst in Richmond," he paused meaningfully. Lady Amherst was notorious. A famous courtesan of the demimonde, she had married and been widowed by an ageing earl who had left her very well off. A very merry widow, her gatherings were as notorious as her name. "It appears that Lady Amherst is the paramour of Viscount Compton, and he has been attempting to win her hand, but she will not marry again. The intelligence that I have received is that five hours ago, during a card game at Lady Amherst's home, Lord Whitman won five hundred pounds. Viscount Compton proceeded to humiliate Whitman by snatching the funds from his hand and telling him before all that Compton owned Whitman, and that he wouldn't be allowed two shillings or even access to his wife until his debt was paid.

"Those present began to laugh at, and disparage Lord Whitman, and in his mortification and rage, the report is that he produced a pistol, one of those new Colt Baby Dragoon revolvers that are so popular, and told Compton that he could never murder Lady Whitman for her life insurance, nor collect any debt if he was dead, and the five hundred pounds was the last of the debt he would ever collect. Then he shot Compton in the face and then himself in the head, right in the middle of the room in front of nearly fifteen witnesses."

*****

"We must leave for Hempstead at once!" Elizabeth exclaimed. Montague had one more piece of information for Elizabeth. "Lady Elizabeth, before you depart, there is one unrelated, yet possibly important, piece of intelligence that found me before I left my house this morning. I have kept two men on the new Duke of Leeds, and it is my understanding that he has returned to England and has quietly let an estate in Plymouth that is very close to Rushworth

Darcy and Richard began swearing unlike anything the ladies had ever heard, and ordered an express be sent with the message to Captain Spencer in all haste. Montague took his leave, and the party took to the carriages. They travelled with an enormous party of armed footmen and grooms, led by Mr Banks, Mr Wilson, and Miss Carmichael. Baskets of food and cider had been provided for breakfast and lunch. Darcy had sent a letter ahead by rider asking an old school friend with an enormous manor house in the area if they could beg rooms for the night. They had no idea what state they would find Lady Whitman in, and he wished for privacy wherever they stayed. He knew he could trust his friend Thomas Franklin.

Their party stopped at Franklin's Well before continuing on, to refresh themselves briefly, and leave Mary and Mrs Hurst behind. Mrs Hurst did not like it, but she was with child again, early days yet, and her husband would not allow her to go. Elizabeth refused to stay behind, but Mary agreed to wait at Franklin's Well and sit with Mrs Hurst. Darcy agreed that Caroline may have need of feminine comfort when they arrived, and did not disagree with Elizabeth when she followed them back into the carriage.

The party arrived at the estate of Viscount Compton and were greeted by a very young butler. This was typical for men who engaged in debauched behaviour in their own home. Most mature butlers expected respectable behaviour from their employers. This man would not give them entrance, regardless of what they told him about the death of his master. He admitted Lady Whitman was in residence, but on orders from his master, was not permitted to release her, nor was he allowed to admit her family to the house. It was clear he did not believe that his master was dead.

Fitzwilliam toyed with the idea of storming the house, they appeared to have enough men, but Elizabeth preferred to follow the law when at all possible and did not wish for anyone to be hurt. After the scene in Richmond, this was going to be a scandal no matter what, and Lord Whitman had already publicly brought his wife's name into it. There would be no hiding the debacle. Elizabeth sent for the local magistrate, and the party waited in front of the manor patiently for an hour for the man to arrive.

Darcy then took charge, his rank and commanding presence cowing the magistrate into submission. The man pounded on the door and questioned the butler when it was opened. "You mean to tell me that your master has instructed you to keep a woman who is not his wife prisoner? Do you wish to be hanged, man? What do you mean the woman's husband was here? Is he here now, man? Then for heaven's sake, if her husband is not here to enforce it, Compton's orders matter not. He is not her husband! No, now, that is enough, young man, step aside. The county has had enough of your master and his scandalous shenanigans, and his father's before his! If it is true that he has been killed, good riddance I say, and praise God there are no direct heirs. Now if there is a woman in this house who is not his wife, and may be here against her will, I demand to see her at once!"

The butler led them through the house, which was decadently furnished and decorated. Elizabeth thought it looked like he had let his friend Lady Amherst decorate the place. She, of course, had never seen the countess's house, but it was rumoured to look more like a bordello than a proper home. As the butler led them up the stairs, he said to them, "I am sure she'll look a right state. She brought no luggage at all, was not wearing much in the way of clothes, and she hasn't been allowed out of the room since they locked her in. She screamed blue murder for days, but eventually she stopped. She has no maid, and I am not permitted to open the door, sir. Do not even have a key. You'll have to break it down."

"Then how do you feed her and provide for her needs?" The magistrate demanded.

The butler gestured to a door that they were approaching at the end of a second-floor hallway. The door had been cut off across the bottom, perhaps twelve inches up, and reattached with hinges. There was a bolt holding the lower part of the door in place, and it was easy to see that when the bolt was pulled, the bottom of the door swung up so that a tray could be slid under the door. "Twice a day, we slide food and water under the door, and she slides the trays back. She throws her used water and waste from the chamber pot out the window herself."

"So, you are telling me you have not laid eyes on this woman since she was placed in this room?" demanded the magistrate, outraged.

"Her husband was here and made no complaint when the order was given. He had the right to lock her up. I have to follow my master's orders, sir, or I'll lose my place!" the butler tried to explain.

The magistrate shook his head in disgust when a familiar, though cracked and hoarse voice came from the other side of the door. "Hello? Is someone there? Please, can you help me?"

"Lady Whitman!" shouted Darcy, "Lady Whitman, are you alright?"

"Mr Darcy! Lord Darcy, please, please help me! There is nothing dangerous behind the door, please open it! Please, please, help me, please let me out!" Caroline sobbed pitifully, pounding desperately on the other side. Richard barked an order for Caroline to stand back, then he and Darcy simultaneously rammed the door with their brawny shoulders. The wood casing cracked and split upon the first try, then on the second, the door fell open, and when it had done so, Caroline Whitman came tumbling out into Elizabeth's arms in a rough looking shift, an article of clothing Elizabeth would be mortified to know was owned by any of her staff, even the lowliest scullery or laundry maid. She stank, her hair was matted and filthy, her face was sunken and pale, and streaked with tears.

Elizabeth looked over the woman and when she exclaimed, "In God's name, where the hell are her clothes!" Caroline burst into tears, sagged into Elizabeth's arms, and fainted. Overwhelmed, Elizabeth sank to her knees holding Caroline while Darcy and the magistrate looked into the room. Darcy swore words Elizabeth would have believed only Richard, or a sailor might know. He slammed the broken door savagely as the magistrate lurched across the hall and vomited into a vase on a side table. Darcy grasped the butler by his collar and shook him savagely. "That is the most barbaric thing I have seen in my entire life! The worst cells in Bedlam and Newgate Prison are more humane!"

The butler raised his hands, "I swear, I have never been in there, sir. Never even seen the room! His lordship locked her in and then he went away! The door has been like this long before I came, my master made it obvious that Lady Whitman is not the first person the family has locked away in there, but the room has been locked long before she arrived!"

"Obviously! Were you not aware that the body of the previous occupant is still present in the damned room? Who the hell is that person!" Darcy roared in a more terrible rage than anyone in his entire life had ever seen before. Elizabeth, understanding the ramifications of what her husband had just said, that Caroline had been locked in a room in a thin and rough shift, not even a proper robe or shawl, with a corpse for nearly two months, for the first and only time in her life, fainted dead away.

*****

Later that evening, Elizabeth sat in a comfortable chair next to Caroline's bed. Since the terrible scene earlier that day, neither of the women would part from the other. Caroline became hysterical if Elizabeth moved away, and Elizabeth was fiercely protective of her and refused to leave her side. Once Caroline had been bathed and Sarah had done as much as she could with her hair, although much of it had to be cut, Hurst had begged Caroline not to share the details of her confinement with her sister, as he feared the shock of such frightening news might make Louisa lose her child.

Caroline had nothing to say, in any case. She refused to speak of her experience, not to give an account to the magistrate, nor to unburden herself to Elizabeth or anyone else. She had been fed, but did not eat much. She seemed to be afraid to fall asleep, but Mr Franklin had been exceedingly kind and had brought a daybed and a very comfortable chaise into the room. Elizabeth was eventually able to reassure Caroline that she and Mrs Hurst would remain close by and that her safety was certain. Eventually Caroline fell into a deep sleep, and did not fully awaken for two days entire.

Elizabeth was not concerned about the length of Caroline's slumber. Sometimes she was fitful, occasionally she sat up straight in bed and looked about wildly. When she spied Elizabeth and her sister close by, she quickly fell asleep again. Many times, she had awoken screaming, only to slip into unconsciousness again immediately after Elizabeth and Louisa woke and comforted her. Once or twice, she had slid out of bed to use the chamber pot from under the bed late in the night when she thought Elizabeth and Louisa were asleep. Caroline was exhausted from terror, and now that she was safe, her mind needed to repair itself with rest. Elizabeth did not bother to send for a doctor. There were none nearby that she trusted, and they would be back in London soon enough. It was obvious that Caroline's health did not seem immediately dire.

On the third morning, Caroline had not even gotten up to relieve herself in some time, nor did Elizabeth believe she was truly asleep any longer. It looked more to her like Caroline was afraid to wake up and face whatever came next. She sent for a tub to be filled with hot water, and a hearty breakfast for the three women. When it was delivered, the smell of every possible delicious breakfast dish filled the room. There were kippers, sausages, and kedgeree, rashers of bacon, eggs, toast, lovely soft rolls, generous quantities of jam and preserves, and honey. The rich smells of chocolate and tea filled the room, every good thing that Mr Franklin could think of for their comfort and pleasure had been provided. As Elizabeth and Louisa exclaimed over the appetising breakfast, Caroline finally could resist the tantalising scents no longer, and when she sat up in bed and looked nervously about, the two ladies bid her a very good morning and to join them for breakfast.

Having been sleeping in Caroline's room for two days, taking turns on the comfortable chaise by the bed and the daybed, Elizabeth and Louisa were also in their nightwear with their hair plaited, and the scene felt quite sisterly as the ladies sat down about the little round table together. There was a great deal more food than they could eat, but each of them did great justice to the cook, including Louisa, who found that unlike during her last pregnancy, she was not ill in the mornings this time. By unspoken agreement, Louisa and Elizabeth made no reference to Caroline's ordeal, waiting for her to be ready to address it herself. The ladies chattered over the breakfast and other innocuous topics as they ate, and when they could hold no more, Sarah arrived to assist Caroline in the bath.

Elizabeth looked at her. "Caroline, Louisa and I will withdraw for a short time. We all have baths waiting for us, and Sarah has a gown of mine ready for you." As Caroline looked momentarily panicked, Elizabeth reassured her, "Caroline, I am leaving you with my very own maid. We shall return presently, I promise you. But let us all enjoy long baths after such a lovely breakfast?" Caroline agreed, and the ladies parted temporarily. In the absence of Sarah, and having missed her company the last days, Darcy was all too eager to act as her lady's maid and assist her in the bath. Elizabeth was amused because she never wanted Sarah's help while bathing, but her husband was so determined to serve her that she could not send him away. He filled her in on the events of the last days. The local clergy and doctors were brought in, the church records and graves of all the late wives of the previous viscounts were accounted for, and no one knew who the body in the locked room might have belonged to. All that was known was that it was a woman, and that she had been dead and partially mummified for what appeared to be decades.

An hour later, Elizabeth returned to Caroline's room and said, "Caroline, I know you likely do not feel ready to travel yet, but the gentlemen have arranged for us to journey to London today. Mr Franklin, who owns this house, is preparing for a journey himself, and we do not wish to delay him. I hope you will return to Pemberley House with us, and I invite you to stay as my guest for as long as you like."

Caroline was indeed not ready for a journey, but she still felt afraid to leave Lady Darcy's protection. She stayed as close to Elizabeth as she could as they went downstairs, and curtsied silently to Mr Franklin as Darcy handed her into a carriage, quite forgetting her new title and rank after all that had befallen her.

The magistrate had agreed to make the journey to London to interview Caroline when she felt ready to speak of her experience, although there was little point. He did not believe a charge against the butler would hold up in court, and there was no one else left to charge with a crime. In the carriage the gentlemen attempted to explain to her gently what had transpired with her husband, what was known of Viscount Compton, and what would happen now.

Elizabeth had spoken to Darcy that morning about her wishes and Darcy relayed them kindly to Caroline. "Lady Whitman, we know that you will need a significant period of rest after your experiences, and Lady Darcy and I wish you to know that in the absence of your brother, you are welcome to stay with us at Netherfield, London, Pemberley, or wherever our family happens to be until Bingley and Jane return to our shores. Mr and Mrs Hurst say you are welcome with them as well. Take some time to think about what makes you feel safe and protected for now, and then tell us what you have decided. Thankfully, the only positive thing to come from all of this is that the man never obtained your dowry, and so therefore, you have not lost possession of your fortune."

Earl Whitman's new heir had already evicted the tenants from Whitman House in town, and taken possession. Banks had inquired, but the staff at Whitman house stated that Caroline's trunks had left with the party when it left London, and the viscount's butler insisted that it had not arrived with her. Caroline remembered how the men had forced her to change into the rough shift, and informed her that she ought to feel grateful they had allowed her to keep a pair of her house slippers. She recalled the humiliation of boarding the carriage in front of the servants without so much as a shawl, and how the men had stopped in London and sold her possessions before they had even left the city, but she said nothing. When tears began rolling down her face, Elizabeth and Louisa did their best to comfort her, but eventually she turned her face to the window and was silent.