The Suspicion at Sanditon (Or, the Disappearance of Lady Denham) Page 21

  “Perhaps he comes to us,” Miss Brereton said.

  A moment later, Sidney Parker and Miss Heywood entered—to Darcy’s immense relief. Although the discovery of the note had worsened Lady Denham’s situation and the Parker sisters’ whereabouts remained unknown, at least one of the missing women was not missing after all.

  “Charlotte!” Elizabeth went to her immediately, the others not far behind. They closed around the new arrivals, everyone talking at once.

  “Wherever have you been?”

  “… so worried for you…”

  “Have you seen Diana?”

  So overwhelming was the sudden attention that a minute passed before either Miss Heywood or Sidney had an opportunity to speak.

  “I left my chamber to come find you,” Miss Heywood said to Elizabeth, “but lost my way in the dark. Fortunately, Mr. Parker ran into me, and led me here.”

  “Is there news of Susan?” Sidney asked.

  “No,” Thomas replied, “and now Diana is missing, too.”

  Sidney cast a questioning look at Arthur. “When I met you earlier, she was with you.”

  “I do not want to talk about it.”

  Thomas, however, did, and informed Sidney and Miss Heywood of the particulars of Diana’s disappearance. Sidney received the intelligence gravely, but did not take his younger brother to task as had Thomas. Rather, he became contemplative, even as Miss Heywood exclaimed her alarm.

  “Oh, dear! Where could she have gone? I thought I heard someone moving about her room earlier, but when I looked within, no one was there.”

  “I hear sounds like that whenever Miss Denham and I spend the night in Sanditon House.” Sir Edward came forward from the sideboard, having taken advantage of the clamor at Miss Heywood’s arrival to pour himself some wine. His was a small portion, not quite half a glass, and he swirled it in the wineglass as he spoke. “It is only the Hollis ghost.”

  Somehow, Miss Heywood appeared less than reassured by that explanation.

  “Unless it was Lady Denham’s kidnapper,” Thomas said.

  “Kidnapper?” Sidney asked. “Is there news regarding Lady Denham?”

  “We have received a ransom note.” Darcy handed the slip to Sidney, who held it so that Miss Heywood could read it along with him.

  “Well,” Sidney said when he had done, “that sounds simple enough.” He passed the note back to Darcy and looked at Sir Edward. “All you need do is produce the watch. Lady Denham is returned to us—my sisters along with her, I hope—and we can call it a night.”

  “It is not that simple,” Darcy said. “Even if Lady Denham and the others are returned to us unharmed, there is the matter of apprehending their captor and bringing him to justice.”

  “There is, indeed,” Sidney said. “But it starts with the watch. Sir Edward, do you have it with you?”

  “Alas, I wish I did! But I—” Sir Edward cleared his throat and took a sip of wine. “It is at Denham Park. I treasure it so much, you see, that I seldom carry it, for I would not want to drop it, or somehow misplace such a precious possession. It is the only personal effect I inherited upon my uncle’s death. I keep it quite safe, I assure you.”

  “What do you think the author of this note might want with it?” Darcy asked.

  “I cannot imagine! It is a handsome watch, to be sure, but—” He released a short, high-pitched laugh. “Hardly worth kidnapping Lady Denham.”

  “You are willing to surrender it, to rescue Lady Denham, are you not?” Sidney asked.

  “Why, of course! If I had within my means the power to rescue any lady in distress, I would not hesitate!”

  “How quickly can you retrieve it?”

  The baronet hesitated. “Tonight? In this storm?”

  Sir Edward’s question was not a sign of cowardice; Darcy, too, would think twice before embarking on even a short journey to a familiar destination at this hour of the night, let alone under such treacherous conditions. The lightning, the rain, wind strong enough to bring down tree limbs … the all-encompassing darkness. The path to Denham Park was surely naught but mire. It would not do Lady Denham, nor the other missing ladies, any good for Sir Edward to leave the house now, only to suffer an accident that prevented him from returning.

  And yet, time was of the essence.

  “Can the errand wait until daybreak,” asked Elizabeth, “when he could at least see the hazards in his path?”

  It was the very question sounding in Darcy’s own mind. How patient was the kidnapper? “I will leave the timing of the mission to your own judgment,” he told the baronet.

  “Sir Edward, you cannot be thinking of venturing out now?” Miss Brereton asked.

  “Indeed,” said Mr. Granville, “only the bravest of souls would attempt it.”

  Sir Edward straightened. “Why, of course I will do whatever is necessary to find Lady Denham—to find all the ladies, I mean. What hero could remain idle here with so many damozels depending upon him? I will even ward off the ghost of Ivy Woodcock if I must, to reach my destination and complete the quest posthaste.” He tore his gaze from Miss Brereton to fix it on Darcy. “However, once I bring the watch back here, does the note say what we are to do with it?”

  “It offers no such instructions,” Darcy said. “I suppose we could simply leave it where we found the note, or leave a reply message for the culprit, stating terms of our own devising.”

  “Very well,” Sir Edward said. “I shall depart at once.”

  “Do you wish for someone to accompany you?”

  “No—I know the way well enough, and there is no sense in anybody else exposing himself to the elements. I will return as soon as I am able.” He turned to Elizabeth. “Meanwhile, when Miss Denham finishes dressing and finds her way down here, I would be most obliged if you would tell her where I have gone and not to worry on my behalf.”

  With a final look at Miss Brereton and a deep bow to them all, he departed, carrying with him the hopes of those remaining.

  “Now,” Thomas said, “about Josiah Hollis…”

  “Are you certain we ought to interrogate him?” Mr. Granville said. “Doing so would expose our suspicions.”

  “If he has knowledge of my sisters’ whereabouts, I will expose him to more than suspicions if he refuses to cooperate,” Thomas said.

  “He will only deny any accusations, and then what do we do?” Mr. Granville said. “Call him a liar? Call him out?”

  “What do you suggest?” Darcy asked.

  “When Sir Edward returns with the watch, we leave it on the sideboard for the kidnapper to collect, then lie in wait to see who appears. I wager ten pounds that it will be Mr. Hollis—and if it is not, we will still have caught the culprit.”

  Darcy considered the proposal. It had merit, but he wanted to know now what Josiah Hollis had been about this evening. Every minute the three ladies remained missing was another minute they could be in grave danger. It nettled him to spend any of those minutes in idleness.

  “We cannot possibly expect to see Sir Edward again for over an hour—likely longer,” Thomas said. “What action can we take in the meantime?”

  “We summon Hollis to join us, as you suggested,” said Darcy. “But we make it a peaceable gathering—one in which we use ordinary conversation to learn what we can from him. In the process, we make it known that we received the ransom note and that Sir Edward has gone to fetch the watch.”

  “So he will know when and where to find it later, providing him every opportunity to incriminate himself,” Mr. Granville said.

  “And if Sir Edward returns without the watch?” Sidney asked.

  “Why would he return without it?” Darcy replied.

  Sidney gestured toward the rain battering against the nearest window. “What if he cannot reach Denham Park and is forced to turn back?”

  “Then we are no worse off than we are now,” said Mr. Granville.

  “If we are in agreement, I will go invite Mr. Hollis to our assembly,” Darcy sa
id.

  “I will come with you,” Elizabeth declared, “and stop at Miss Denham’s chamber. She is taking an overlong time to join us.”

  * * *

  “I do wish Sir Edward had allowed someone to accompany him, rather than take the burden of his mission entirely upon himself,” Elizabeth said as they approached the staircase. “I fear for his safety. Do you suppose he at least took a servant?”

  “A sensible man would.”

  “That does not reassure me.”

  At the top of the stairs they turned toward the bedchambers. Elizabeth’s knock on Miss Denham’s door went unanswered.

  “Miss Denham? It is Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. We are all gathered in the portrait room. Sir Edward said you would be joining us.”

  They waited in silence for a minute. “Miss Denham,” Elizabeth tried again, “may I be of any assistance to you?”

  The absence of sound within the chamber disturbed Darcy more than any noise might have. Postponing the acknowledgment of what every faculty of reason told him was true, he rapped on the door himself. “Miss Denham?”

  His effort met with the same response Elizabeth’s had: none.

  “Might she be deliberately ignoring us?” he asked.

  “She has certainly made no secret of her disdain for our involvement in tonight’s proceedings. However, rather than sit motionless inside her chamber until we give up and leave, I think her more inclined to open the door so that she could make a show of closing it after telling us to go away.”

  With growing dread, Darcy made one final attempt to compel Miss Denham to open the door herself before they imposed upon her privacy by entering her chamber uninvited. “Miss Denham?” His deeper voice surely penetrated the wooden barrier between them. “Another lady has gone missing and Sir Edward has left the house on an urgent errand to Denham Park. For your own safety, he insists that you join all of us in the portrait room rather than remain alone in your chamber.”

  Every silent second that passed seemed to stretch eternally. He let no more than five elapse before answering Elizabeth’s unvoiced question with a nod.

  She opened the door. Within, they found exactly what he dreaded.

  No one.

  A cursory inspection of Miss Denham’s room revealed nothing of note—no indication of forced entry, no obvious evidence conveniently left lying around, no new ransom letter. The presence of Miss Denham’s borrowed nightdress and the absence of her gown indicated that she had finished dressing before she left her chamber, but otherwise Elizabeth and Darcy found no sign of what had caused that departure.

  “It is possible that we missed her—that she took a different route to the portrait room than the one we followed here,” Elizabeth said.

  “Do you believe that to be the case?”

  “Not for a moment.”

  They hastened to Josiah Hollis’s chamber, impatient to reconvene with the others, impatient to learn what Hollis knew. With another lady missing, there was no time to waste; Darcy would roust the older man from bed if he must. He had better be cooperative. Darcy was in no mood to brook resistance.

  When they reached his chamber, they did not find Hollis the least bit obstinate.

  They did not find him at all.

  Twenty-four

  The manuscript so wonderfully found … how was it to be accounted for? What could it contain? To whom could it relate? By what means could it have been so long concealed?

  —Northanger Abbey

  Elizabeth’s spirits plummeted as her gaze took in the empty chamber. Like Miss Denham’s room, Josiah Hollis’s quarters showed signs of having been slept in, but offered nothing to explain the absence of its tenant.

  “Two more guests missing in less than an hour.” Her hand closed around one of the bedposts as a sick feeling spread through her stomach. Mr. Hollis’s unknown whereabouts were beyond her control and likely of his own volition, but she felt somehow responsible for Miss Denham’s. Having seen the lady so recently, it seemed like her disappearance had occurred on Elizabeth’s watch. “I knew Miss Denham was expected to join us in the portrait room. Why did I not become concerned sooner when she failed to appear?”

  “Because all of us were occupied by everything else that went before.”

  The weight of the evening’s events settled upon her all at once. Alone with Darcy, free of the need to maintain an optimistic façade before anybody else, she sank wearily onto the end of the bed. “This is the worst dinner party ever.”

  “Worse than the evening we met the Knightleys?”

  “They lost only one guest.”

  “No one here has died.”

  “Neither of us is certain of that.”

  He sat down next to her. “We will do our best to make certain of that.”

  She leaned into his side, resting her head against his shoulder. It had been a long night, and there was no sign of its ending anytime soon. He put his arm around her and drew her closer.

  “I hope it goes without saying,” he continued, “that until this situation is resolved, I do not want you to leave my sight.”

  “I assure you, I have little inclination to roam the house by myself. I do not think Miss Heywood or Miss Brereton should be without a companion, either.”

  “What do you make of Josiah Hollis’s absence? Do you think he has also been kidnapped, or is he responsible for all the other women’s disappearances?”

  “I doubt he has been kidnapped. He would not command much in the way of ransom, and without riches as a motive, who would intentionally subject himself to prolonged time in Mr. Hollis’s company? No—if he is not responsible for his own absence, I think it more likely that he rubbed someone the wrong way one time too many.”

  “And was permanently silenced?”

  “Have you yourself not wished at least once tonight that he would bite his spiteful tongue? Perhaps someone stopped it for him.”

  “One of our fellow guests?”

  She released a heavy sigh. “I sincerely hope not. They may have their idiosyncrasies, but I dislike thinking any of them capable of violence. Although Thomas Parker was very displeased with Arthur just now, his ire is justified, and his greatest fault seems to be an overabundance of enthusiasm about Sanditon. Sidney seems the most rational of the whole Parker clan, if not the most serious; Arthur, the most indolent. Mr. Granville we have spent less time with, but for someone unconnected to any of the missing ladies, he has demonstrated admirable character in the way he has stepped forward to assist our investigative efforts in any manner he can. Ridiculous as Sir Edward might be, he is conscientious, and even now risks his own safety to perform an errand critical to Lady Denham’s welfare.”

  “Now that you have exonerated all the other guests, that leaves us with Mr. Hollis.”

  “Two Mr. Hollises—let us not forget Archibald, whom Sir Edward was stalking when I came upon him earlier.”

  “The baronet was ghost-hunting?”

  “Tilting at cobwebs to demonstrate his valor. His efforts, however, proved unsuccessful, so I believe we can safely limit our present discussion to the corporeal Mr. Hollis.”

  “Whom you believe to be a suspect, not a victim?”

  “Perhaps tonight he is visiting revenge upon those who have rubbed him the wrong way—starting with Lady Denham.”

  He frowned. “I have difficulty imagining Hollis as the kidnapper. Even if he is feigning his lumbago—which would not at all surprise me—I cannot visualize him carrying off Diana Parker or Miss Denham without their resisting enough to cause a disturbance that someone would have heard. Arthur could not have strayed that far from his sister in pursuit of a candle flame.”

  “Unless Hollis subdued the women somehow.”

  “Knocked them unconscious?”

  “Do you think him capable of it?”

  “Physically? Yes. But for a gentleman to strike a blow to a woman crosses such a line—”

  “As opposed to merely abducting her?”

  The rhetorical qu
estion gave him pause. “I concede the point,” he said finally. “Abduction is an utterly dishonorable act; it follows that if he is capable of one, he might be capable of more. However, the forsaking of some scruples does not prohibit the retention of others. I know many gentlemen who are a study in contradiction.”

  “I do not think Josiah Hollis possesses so complex a character. Regardless, I did not necessarily mean he subdued them with physical blows.”

  “What, then?”

  Elizabeth was not certain. She knew only that she agreed with Darcy in not being able to imagine any of the ladies quietly acquiescing to being dragged off somewhere.

  “Perhaps he won their cooperation by lying. Or by threatening them, or someone they care about,” she offered. “Or perhaps he used a nonviolent means of subduing them. Diana left Susan to go prepare a sedative. Who knows what other concoctions the Parker sisters might have had in their possession? Either could carry an entire pharmacopœia in her reticule, with any number of potions and concoctions that might be used against her if administered improperly.”

  “What of Lady Denham? She boasted of almost never taking physic.”

  “Yet even she had two phials on her dressing table, one of them a sedative, courtesy of Diana. A phial that is now missing.”

  Darcy was silent, his expression pensive. At last he said, “No matter who the kidnapper is, after subduing the ladies, where would he take them? He cannot leave because of the storm, and the house has been thoroughly searched.”

  “Has it? We have not been searching in the most organized fashion, and it would not surprise me if this house contains out-of-the-way spaces that even the servants might not think to check. Perhaps we ought to take another look at the architectural plans in the study. Do you have the key?”

  Darcy slipped his hand into his pocket—or rather, Archibald Hollis’s pocket; he still wore the late gentleman’s coat. He frowned. “Wrong pocket,” he said, but did not remove his hand.

  “Well, check the other one.”

  “In a moment.” He withdrew something from the pocket. “I did not feel this before.”

  It was a letter, folded, the creases well worn, the paper itself clothlike from repeated handling. The outside bore no address, only a name: “Ivy.”