The Suspicion at Sanditon (Or, the Disappearance of Lady Denham) Read online

  Darcy privately agreed. He had eaten the dish many times; it was one occasionally served to guests at Pemberley. Although he knew no particulars of its preparation, the thick sauce normally contained whole bread rolls and hard egg yolks—all of which appeared to have disintegrated, turning the sauce into a thick paste surrounding celery that barely held its form.

  Josiah’s declaration also drew the notice of both Susan and Diana. They, however, considered his pronouncement a recommendation.

  “The texture is optimal for digestion,” Diana said.

  “Oh, yes!” Susan exclaimed. “Soft-cooked vegetables are most agreeable to the stomach and intestines.”

  “Well, you can have my portion,” Josiah said. “Just stop talking about intestines.”

  The sisters, being in the habit of not eating much, restricted themselves to modest servings, but Arthur enthusiastically helped himself to Josiah’s share along with his own.

  “No sense in letting food go to waste,” he said. “Especially a dish that is easy on the coats of the stomach. A full stomach is good defense against the Damp.” As he spooned from the dish, the cuffs of his shirt and frock coat slid up nearly halfway to his elbow, straining against his forearm.

  “Arthur, how can you complain of the damp when it has inspired such an entertaining fashion display among us?” Sidney had cheerfully claimed the most ostentatious ensemble available to him—a 1740s gold-trimmed red velvet frock coat with matching knee breeches and a waistcoat that extended nearly to his knees. He sported the attire with great flair. “Why, the rain has turned an ordinary dinner into a bal masqué—except it is the dishes rather than the guests that are keeping their identities a secret. Truly, we all cut such fine figures in this garb that when Lady Denham returns, we should ask whether we might keep it. Look at Granville—one would think we were in the company of Archibald Hollis himself.”

  Though not in need of dry clothes, in the spirit of good sportsmanship Percy Granville had decided to participate in the impromptu costume party. In doing so, he had unknowingly adopted what appeared to be the clothing Archibald had worn in a portrait hanging on the wall behind him.

  Mr. Granville twisted to study the wigged figure of the portrait. “I do not think I look at all like him.” He turned back to the others with a lively expression. “Archibald Hollis had much better hair.”

  Sidney laughed. “Next time, you must remember to bring powder.”

  “You make sport, Sidney,” Diana admonished, “but if that portrait is accurate, Mr. Granville and Archibald Hollis exhibit similar constitutions, and is that not the essence of any man? Mr. Granville, I imagine, would like quite well to live to nearly seventy. Why—”

  She suddenly stopped and tilted her head to one side. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” Sidney asked.

  “That scraping sound.”

  “I don’t know how anyone could hear a scraping sound or anything else, you talk so much,” Josiah said.

  “I heard a noise.” She looked around. “But I cannot determine where it might have come from.”

  “Perhaps it is Ivy Woodcock,” Sidney said impishly.

  “They do say this house is haunted, you know,” Josiah said. “But it is probably my uncle, taking umbrage at everybody’s appropriation of his clothes.”

  “They say?” Miss Denham repeated. “Who are ‘they’? I have lived in Sanditon my whole life and never heard such a thing. Ivy is the only local ghost I know of.”

  “Well, now, you are not a Hollis, are you? This is the house of my ancestors—the house that right now ought to be occupied by Uncle Archibald’s blood kin, not that interloper who drew in my uncle for his fortune. Actually, perhaps that is why Lady Denham has disappeared—my uncle wants to see his estate pass to his rightful heirs.”

  “I suppose by ‘rightful heirs,’ you refer to yourself?” Miss Denham asked, rather snidely.

  Josiah made no reply.

  “A gentleman can leave his property to whomever he chooses in his will, provided the estate is not entailed,” Thomas Parker said.

  “And he was going to leave it to me. From six to sixteen I lived here, being groomed as his heir presumptive. The ink recording their marriage in the parish register was scarcely dry before she persuaded him to oust me from the house. Well, now that her ladyship has enjoyed control of it for five-and-thirty years, it is time she gave it back to his relations. It is not as if she has any children of her own to whom to leave it.”

  “She has a niece and nephew.” Miss Denham’s tone lowered the room temperature by several degrees.

  “From a second marriage that did not contribute a farthing to what she has to bequeath. The only reason Sir Harry married her was in hope that her fortune would replenish the Denham family coffers. But she duped him as thoroughly as she duped Archibald Hollis. She got a title, and you and your brother got nothing.”

  “I inherited a baronetcy,” Sir Edward said, “passed down through generations. That is hardly ‘nothing.’”

  “Well, good luck to you, trying to live off your title after your dwindling fortune runs out, while her ladyship sits on hers.”

  “Lady Denham is sympathetic to my plight. She hopes to see me marry well.”

  “Isn’t that generous of her? She hopes to see you live off someone else’s fortune. You, meanwhile, no doubt hope to see yourself remembered in her will. Ha! I am right—I can read it in your face.”

  Sir Edward shifted in his seat. “You have no idea how costly it is to be a baronet—to maintain a commensurate style of living, and an estate with tenants who are always needing something.”

  Josiah smirked. “So you are hopeful. As hopeful as your sister is of inheriting enough money to catch a husband. Tell me, do you think Lady Denham’s will names either of you as her heirs? Or has Miss Brereton over there quietly worked her way in and replaced you?”

  Miss Brereton regarded him in astonishment. “I—I would never…”

  “Mr. Hollis, that was a most ungentlemanly remark,” Thomas Parker said.

  “It is only what everyone here is wondering, but has not the boldness to say aloud,” Josiah responded. “And do not presume to admonish me, when you yourself also have cause to covet Lady Denham’s fortune. A bequest from her would fund any number of the plans you have for Sanditon, would it not? With money to spare for your sister’s charitable projects and an unlimited supply of remedies for your invalid siblings? The entire Parker family could benefit.”

  “What are you suggesting?”

  “Nothing. Nothing at all. I am merely observing that there are very few people at this table who do not have an interest in Lady Denham’s will—and for all I know, they may hold a stake, too, that we just have not realized yet. Mr. Darcy seemed terribly eager to lead the search of Sanditon’s grounds.”

  “My motives were entirely disinterested,” Darcy said.

  “As, I imagine, was the nice, long tête-à-tête your wife had with Miss Brereton while you ensured half this company were out of the house.”

  “Miss Brereton and I are concerned for Lady Denham’s welfare, and that subject formed the entirety of our conversation,” Elizabeth said.

  “I expect everybody here is concerned for her welfare,” Josiah said, “or ought to be. If she is found dead, whatever her will states right now are the terms we must all live with.”

  “What if, like Ivy Woodcock, she is never found?” Sir Edward asked.

  No one immediately answered.

  “Granville, you read law at Oxford,” Sidney said. “Do you know?”

  “The will would stand,” he replied, “but Lady Denham’s heir would have to wait until the court declares her legally dead—usually seven years—before coming into the bequest.”

  The company fell silent as the servants cleared the table and removed the cloth to set out the dessert course. Only the sound of plates gently placed on the bare wood, accompanied by the ceaseless wind and rain, filled the room while the guests di
gested both their dinners and what this information meant to them.

  And contemplated each other with gazes more suspicious than before.

  * * *

  Darcy’s own thoughts tumbled rapidly. As much as he disliked Josiah Hollis, the disagreeable little rodent had raised questions Darcy had not previously considered. Since looking at the overturned seat and open window in Lady Denham’s apartment, he had not really had time to fully consider their implications, but the few images he had of a potential involuntary exit had featured an unknown kidnapper—not one of the individuals with whom he now dined. Now, however, he wondered: Did one of them know what Lady Denham’s will contained … and had he—or she—taken steps to prevent its being changed?

  A boom of thunder powerful enough to make the candles flicker jolted them all from their private reflections.

  “Well, of course Lady Denham will be found long before seven years pass,” Diana declared. “In fact, I think we ought to forgo dessert and recommence our search for her.”

  Both Arthur and Josiah looked rather reluctant to relinquish dessert. As the nuts, fruits, and cakes had suffered no ill effects of the dinner’s delay, it was the most appetizing of the courses. Arthur regarded a nearby gooseberry tart with particular regret.

  “The house has already been searched, and she is not inside it,” said Miss Brereton. “Where else are we to look?”

  “It is not where to look,” Elizabeth said, “but what must be sought—evidence of when, how, and why she might have left Sanditon House.”

  Diana placed her serviette on the table. “Then let us begin directly.”

  “Before everybody takes off helter-skelter, I think our efforts are better served if someone guides them,” Thomas Parker said. “Someone free of self-interest and emotional entanglement, who can see things clearly and provide the direction this situation needs. Mr. Darcy, do you agree?”

  “Absolutely. This is a matter that should be turned over to the parish magistrate.”

  “Unfortunately, our magistrate is in London at present,” Sir Edward said.

  “Even were he at home, I doubt he would brave the weather to come here tonight,” Thomas Parker added. “He is not the most conscientious administrator of justice to begin with, so there is no way he would venture out into this storm—indeed, this tempest is so violent that we all ought to consider ourselves detained here for the night. Should he decide to return to Sanditon upon learning of Lady Denham’s disappearance, it might be days before the roads are safe enough for him to travel. It is up to us, therefore, to initiate the investigation in a timely manner.”

  “And I suppose you mean for yourself to conduct it,” Josiah Hollis said, “so that it ends in your favor. I knew you wanted a place in Lady Denham’s will; if you find her, you hope she might give you one if she has not already.”

  “Actually,” Mr. Parker replied, “I did not intend to volunteer myself.”

  “Whom, then, do you have in mind?” Darcy asked. His gaze drifted around the table. Sir Edward, Miss Denham, Clara Brereton, and Josiah Hollis could all be accused of the same self-seeking motive, and Hollis had already accused Thomas Parker’s siblings of interest by family association. That left Miss Heywood … Mr. Granville … and—

  Sidney chuckled. “Mr. Darcy, I believe he means you.”

  Darcy had been afraid of that.

  “Of all the people present, I have the least connection to Lady Denham, and no familiarity with her habits, her history, or her house,” Darcy said. “Moreover, I have no connection whatsoever to the parish.”

  “You already directed the search of the grounds,” Arthur said.

  “For all the good that accomplished,” Josiah said caustically. “Half of us soaked, all of us starved, and still no Lady Denham.”

  “I understand from allusions made by Colonel Fitzwilliam before we met you in Willingden,” Thomas Parker said, “that you and Mrs. Darcy have experience in matters such as this.”

  “What’s this?” Josiah said. “The Darcys have been associated with other missing dowagers?”

  “No.” Darcy became defensive. What, exactly, had Colonel Fitzwilliam said? Moreover—why? Beyond a very circumscribed set of friends, he was reluctant to discuss particulars of the investigations into which he and Elizabeth had become drawn on behalf of acquaintances who had found themselves in spots of trouble they could not navigate alone. He was not by nature a person given to nosing about in the affairs of others—but nor was he one to suppress his innate sense of justice and social responsibility when circumstances demanded his involvement, particularly in the aid of people close to him, or who were unable to act for themselves. He entered into such investigations with discretion, and maintained it long after they were resolved. He did not want to discuss them with a roomful of near strangers, Josiah Hollis least of all.

  “My wife and I have solved a few puzzles,” he finished dismissively.

  “Indeed?” Sidney said. “I am all curiosity, for I sense that you refer to more than a game of twenty questions. That, however, is a conversation for another time. For now, I will merely point out that you are not the person with the least connection to Lady Denham—Mr. Granville has never met her at all—and that if you and your wife indeed have experience in working out ‘puzzles’ of a critical nature, then you are more qualified than anyone else here to direct us.”

  “As for familiarity,” Thomas added, “my siblings and I have known Lady Denham all our lives. Consider us at your disposal. I am certain the Denhams and Miss Brereton also will provide any assistance they can.”

  In truth, there was no one Darcy trusted more than himself and Elizabeth to properly handle the matter. Sir Edward lacked sense; Arthur, drive; Sidney, seriousness. Josiah Hollis lacked any social graces whatsoever—while exhibiting an abundance of hostility toward the very person they were trying to find. Even Thomas Parker was at times so fixated upon Sanditon’s future that he could not see what was in front of him. Among the women were one rational but unworldly young girl, two irrational spinsters, and two ladies dependent upon the contents of Lady Denham’s will to maintain the social status to which they had grown accustomed.

  Attempting to control this group would be akin to herding cats. Yet standing back and watching any of the rest of them manage the inquiry would prove a still greater exercise in frustration. At least if he consented to lead the investigation, he would have the authority to ensure it was done well, and that no one with an interest in the matter would be able to exploit the proceedings for his or her own benefit.

  He met Elizabeth’s gaze. Her slight nod revealed her opinion.

  “All right, then,” Darcy said. “Here is how we will proceed.”

  Fifteen

  Miss Denham was a fine young woman, but cold and reserved, giving the idea of one who felt her consequence with Pride and her Poverty with Discontent.… The difference in Miss Denham’s countenance, the change from Miss Denham sitting in cold Grandeur in Mrs. Parker’s Drawing-room to be kept from silence by the efforts of others, to Miss Denham at Lady Denham’s Elbow, listening and talking with smiling attention or solicitous eagerness, was very striking—and very amusing—or very melancholy, just as Satire or Morality might prevail.

  —Sanditon

  “Let us start by pooling our knowledge,” Darcy said. “When was the last time each of you saw Lady Denham, and what transpired?”

  “As my reply is the simplest, I might as well answer first,” Mr. Granville said. “I have never met Lady Denham at all. When I arrived in Sanditon yesterday, Sidney told me she had extended a dinner invitation to us both, so here I am.”

  “I am afraid I gave Granville little choice in the matter,” Sidney said to Darcy. “As you will recall, the idea of this dinner party was conceived rather quickly when we all happened to meet at the hotel yesterday, and I accepted on our mutual behalf.”

  “Is that when you last saw Lady Denham?” Darcy asked.

  “I left to retrieve Miss Brereto
n from the library, and on our way back to the hotel she and I met Lady Denham. Miss Brereton joined her, we parted ways, and that was the last time I saw either of them until I came to Sanditon House today.”

  “You and Lady Denham were in conversation when we met you in the hotel lobby,” Darcy said. “What were you discussing?”

  “We were merely exchanging the usual pleasantries that pass between acquaintances that have not seen each other for some time,” Sidney said. “How was my journey, how long was I staying, why on earth was I paying good money to lodge at the hotel when I could be staying with Tom? I enquired after her health, and whether Miss Brereton was yet with her at Sanditon House. That sort of thing. Nothing of consequence.”

  “That meeting at the hotel was also the last time I saw Lady Denham,” Thomas Parker said.

  “I have not seen her since the evening before last, when she and Miss Brereton called at Trafalgar House after dinner,” Diana said. “Nor, I believe, has Arthur.”

  At the mention of his name, Arthur, who had embraced Darcy’s methodical inquiry as an opportunity to partake of dessert after all, paused in the midst of lifting a slice of gooseberry tart from its serving dish. The wedge, the first to leave the tart, had not come out quite cleanly, and it balanced precariously on the pastry server. Plump berries dropped back into the pan, much to Arthur’s noticeable sorrow.

  “I have not,” he confirmed. “Would anybody care for a slice of tart?” He glanced at Charlotte, seated beside him. “Miss Heywood?”

  “I will have one,” Josiah said.

  Arthur, happy for a conspirator in indulgence, served the first two slices to himself and Miss Heywood—whether she wanted one or not—then reached for the cream while the footman carried the tart dish to Josiah.

  “Now, Arthur,” Diana said, “take care that you do not—oh, there you go again! You always pour too much cream.”

  “The jug was more full than I anticipated.”

  Diana rolled her eyes and turned back to Darcy. “As I was saying, my most recent meeting with Lady Denham was at Trafalgar House on Tuesday evening, when you and Mrs. Darcy had dinner with us, so you know what transpired. Susan has not seen Lady Denham since then, either—she did not feel up to going out at all yesterday following the leeches.”