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

  “Yes…” He drew his brows together. “Come to think of it, Mr. Hollis tried to dissuade me from going inside. He claimed his lumbago troubled him and that he wanted to get back to the house before the storm broke. I wonder now whether he had another purpose for keeping me away. Regardless—from what I saw of the interior, I doubt that is where the missing ladies are being held.”

  “What of the hermitage?”

  “It was Mr. Granville who visited that building during our search. He reported it empty and in very poor repair. If we want more details, we shall have to ask him.”

  She moved to a different side of the desk, where the architectural rendering of the cellars was spread, and examined it for the third time in fifteen minutes. “I keep studying this drawing as if the tunnel entrances will suddenly appear on it, if only I stare long enough.” She sighed. “But they have not. I see only servants’ passages that lead to the upper floors of the house.”

  Darcy consulted the drawing of the ground floor. “They appear to be rather disconnected—an inefficient arrangement. There are places where two or three rooms connect to each other, but not to the main servants’ corridors, even if they are adjacent. The state apartment seems to have two of its rooms accessible to servants—but they are two different passages. What is the sense in that?”

  “I suppose every house cannot be a Pemberley.” Elizabeth looked at the first-floor rendering. “The master apartment has a similar arrangement, and I cannot see the sense in it, either. Perhaps the rooms or passages were constructed at different times? Mrs. Riley or Rebecca can tell us whether and how the servants’ passages are used, if we really want to know.” She paused. “Mrs. Riley might also be able to tell us something about the tunnels. She has been here long enough that she might have heard stories passed down through generations of servants.”

  Darcy consulted his watch. “This has taken longer than anticipated. It is time—past time—we returned to the portrait room. With luck, Sir Edward has come back by now with Sir Harry’s watch, and if we do not find Miss Denham there, we need to alert the others to her disappearance.”

  “And that of Josiah Hollis?”

  Darcy glanced at the renderings once more. Josiah Hollis had lived in this house some years as its tacit heir—long enough to have explored it thoroughly, inside and out. Josiah Hollis had tried to dissuade him from searching the grotto. Josiah Hollis had a grudge with the missing Lady Denham that spanned decades.

  “I do not think Mr. Hollis has disappeared.” He looked up from the drawings and met his wife’s gaze. “In fact, I think Josiah Hollis might know more about these tunnels than anyone realizes.”

  * * *

  As she fled to the portrait room, Charlotte did not need Sidney Parker’s exhortation to hasten her steps. She wanted to put as much distance as possible, as quickly as possible, between herself and him. Their exchange had proceeded horribly, twisting sharply in directions she had never intended, like a runaway carriage violently pulled by horses whose driver has lost control.

  She did not know what upset her more—the cause of their falling-out, or the quarrel itself. Her eyes grew warm as tears welled up. She continued down the corridor and around a corner, but found herself so distraught that she started feeling dizzy. It was not like her to allow emotions to affect her so. But then, she had been doing a lot of things tonight that exceeded the bounds of her usual behavior.

  The dizziness became more pronounced—the fatigue of a sleepless night filled with emotional strain catching up with her. She stopped and placed one hand on the wall to support herself. Sidney’s warning not to tarry echoed in her ears. Vexed as she was with him, she knew he was right about that. She would pause for only a minute—just long enough to regain her bearings.

  A minute proved too long.

  She sensed someone approaching behind her. Before she could turn around, before she could cry out, a hand covered her mouth. A strong arm encircled her in a firm hold.

  And a familiar voice said, “My dear, remain silent, and all will be well—

  “Trust me.”

  Twenty-nine

  “After a very short search, you will discover a division in the tapestry so artfully constructed as to defy the minutest inspection, and on opening it, a door will immediately appear.”

  —Henry Tilney, Northanger Abbey

  Elizabeth and Darcy left the study and proceeded through the library toward the door leading to the corridor. As they passed the bookcases, however, Elizabeth noticed that the books which had been lying out on their previous visit had been reshelved.

  She stopped to take a closer look. “This is odd,” she said.

  “What is?”

  “I am surprised to see these books rearranged since we were here earlier in the evening. I should think every occupant of this house—guest or servant—has been too engaged in more important matters to trouble with their placement.” She took a few steps back from the bookcase. A thin gap ran its full height between it and the two cases on either side. A glance at the others surrounding the room revealed no such gap. “When we examined the drawings just now, did you notice whether the library has a servants’ passage behind it?”

  “I did not note one.”

  “Nor did I.” Had she, she might have been inclined to come out of the study to take a look. As it was, she advanced to the reorganized shelf and pulled off several of the volumes that had been lying loose before, handing them to Darcy. Realizing what she was about, he set them on a nearby table, along with their candle, and returned for more, removing them from the shelf himself.

  The front row of books cleared, she reached for the row behind it—weightier volumes of more distinguished age and content. Behind a dignified edition of Shakespeare’s plays, she discovered it: a lever. Grasping it firmly, she pulled.

  The latch barely made a sound as it released … nor did the bookcase, as it swung back to reveal a passage.

  “Well, now,” Elizabeth said. “One wonders what else does not appear on those drawings.”

  Darcy retrieved their candle. “Let us find out.”

  The narrow corridor ran in two directions, one along the library’s wall and toward the study, the other in the opposite direction, toward the bedroom wing. They took the former. The passage was rough—bare timbers and walls—but in good repair. They followed it until they reached a dead end. A wide wooden settle sat against the wall on one side, with a footstool before it and a small table next to it; elsewise, the space was empty.

  “This is rather a let-down,” Elizabeth said. “What is the purpose of a passage that simply ends without going anywhere? And who would have need of seating in here?”

  “Indeed,” Darcy said, studying the high-backed bench. Even the box seat was high; Elizabeth doubted her feet would fully touch the floor should she sit upon it. “This is hardly a space in which one would while away leisure hours.”

  He handed the candle to her and approached the bench. It was an old settle, with a hinged seat-top that opened for storage. He lifted the lid and she brought the candle near. Though the height of the seat made the space within unusually deep, it was empty.

  “How very disappointing,” she said. “We come upon a mysterious piece of furniture in the hidden passage of an old mansion, and all we find within are shadows.”

  “What were you hoping to find?” Darcy asked.

  “Something—anything. I am not too particular. I might have been satisfied with a laundry list.” As Darcy closed the lid, she passed the candle around the settle’s sides. The only thing unusual about it was the seat’s height. “Perhaps it was put here years ago simply to get it out of the way. It appears solidly built, but the surface of the seat is scuffed, and the bench height makes it impractical for use by anyone but gentlemen—tall gentlemen, at that. A lady would need the footstool just to mount the bench without looking like a child wiggling onto an adult-sized chair.”

  “So it is not tempting you to sit and laze a while?”

>   “Hardly. I think we are done here.”

  “Agreed.” His eyes made one final floor-to-ceiling sweep of the space—and stopped on a section of the wall several feet above the top of the settle’s back. She followed his gaze.

  “Is that a hole in the wall?”

  “I believe it is.” Gripping the settle’s back, he placed one booted foot on the seat and hoisted himself to stand upon it. The hole was now at his eye level. “Hand me the candle.”

  She did so. He held it up to the hole to look within, and released a low chuckle.

  “What do you see?”

  “Teeth.”

  “I do hope you mean somebody left behind a comb.”

  “Not quite.” He extended his hand to help her up. “Come—see for yourself.”

  With his aid, she climbed onto the seat—a little more awkwardly than he had, ladies’ gowns seldom contributing success to such action. Unfortunately, her effort resulted in disappointment; even on her toes, she was too short to be able to see inside the hole. Both agreed that any attempt by Darcy to lift her did not seem prudent—the seat was wide, but not that wide, and they did not want to risk either of them losing their balance.

  “Here.” Darcy handed her the candle and dismounted. He picked up the footstool and set it on the bench below the hole. She stepped onto it; the additional height proved just enough to enable her to look within the hole. The opening extended through the entire thickness of the wall, into the room that lay on the other side. That end was indeed ringed by sharp ivory points.

  She looked at Darcy in confusion.

  “The bear,” he said. “In the study—you are looking through the bear’s maw.”

  Her eyes widened and she turned to look again. “I cannot see anything beyond the teeth.”

  “That is because the room is dark. Were it lit, from this height you could probably see part of the room. More important, even if the view is extremely limited, you could hear what transpired.”

  “A spy hole.” No wonder the bear had made her feel as if she were being watched. “Do you think someone observed us earlier—when the books on the shelf were disturbed?”

  “Not only do I think it possible, I believe we and our fellow guests might have been spied upon in other rooms of this house throughout the evening. I suspect this is not the only such observation area in Sanditon House—in fact, spaces such as this probably account for the gaps between servants’ corridors that we noted on the drawings. Some of them might even connect to the servants’ passages via doors not obvious to those unaware of them, allowing someone to move from any room to another within the house without being seen—such as our kidnapper.”

  “Or Archibald and Ivy.”

  “Or the Hollis ghost…”

  It took her a moment to catch his meaning, but when she did, she laughed.

  “Who is not the ghost of previous Sanditon House masters at all,” she said, “but whoever the present master happens to be, checking up on his staff to keep them on their toes. Should he make noise or do something else that inadvertently threatens to reveal his presence, it gets blamed on the ghost.”

  “That is my theory.” Darcy reached for Elizabeth’s hand and helped her down first from the stool, and then to the floor. “The passages, and fiction of the Hollis ghost, also provide the house’s owner a way of keeping an eye on visitors he does not trust.”

  Archibald and Ivy again came to her mind. “Or of spying on his own family members. Archibald might have risked more than he knew by bringing Ivy into the house.”

  “If Archibald knew about the tunnels, he likely knew about these observatories. In fact, the tunnels might enter the house through these secret rooms, which would explain why they, too, are not represented on the drawings.”

  “I wonder whether his brother knew of the tunnels or the passages—he wrote that Oswald skulked around, trying to catch him in some transgression.” Elizabeth mused a moment. “More pertinent to our present crisis, who knows about them now? Do you think Josiah Hollis is aware of them? He spent his youth being groomed as Archibald’s heir.”

  “And he has spent his adulthood resenting Lady Denham for thwarting that plan. Knowledge of these passages would certainly provide him access to kidnap her—along with the other ladies. He could also use them to eavesdrop on the rest of us, staying abreast of our progress as we investigate.”

  “He has certainly made a point of absenting himself from us for significant periods of time tonight—including presently. I wonder whether the others have seen him since we left the portrait room.”

  “Let us go find out,” Darcy said. “We have been too long away as it is. Let us also stop at Josiah Hollis’s bedchamber once more en route, in case he has returned there.”

  They headed back to the library, where they closed the passage door and replaced the books on the shelf. “Are they in the same order?” Darcy asked.

  “I believe so,” she replied. “If not, we must simply hope the faulty arrangement goes unnoticed by anyone who might know the difference.”

  As they approached the wing containing most of the bedchambers, Elizabeth asked Darcy how he intended to coax Mr. Hollis into revealing the extent of his knowledge regarding the passages and tunnels. He was about to reply when they turned a corner and stopped suddenly.

  Mr. Hollis lay prone on the floor—motionless.

  Sidney Parker bent over him. Holding a candlestick.

  Thirty

  “What one means one day, you know, one may not mean the next. Circumstances change, opinions alter.”

  —Isabella Thorpe, Northanger Abbey

  At Elizabeth’s sharp intake of breath, Sidney turned his head toward them.

  “Mr. Darcy—Mrs. Darcy!” He rose. “I have been searching everywhere for you.”

  Darcy glanced from Sidney’s face … to the candlestick … to Mr. Hollis … and back. Sidney gripped the heavy silver candlestick by its stem, its unlit stub barely rising above the nozzle. Mr. Hollis lay in a heap behind him. Darcy saw no blood, but with Sidney partially blocking his view of the body, he also could see no confirmation that Hollis breathed.

  “What transpired here?”

  “I wish I knew. I was trying to find Mr. Hollis—well, actually I was heading to the portrait room in hopes of finding Miss Heywood, but I was also on the watch for Mr. Hollis—when I came upon him like this.”

  Darcy studied Mr. Parker. Sidney’s statements seemed to contradict each other, and his manner was nervous.

  “Is he alive?”

  “Yes—but unconscious. I think he imbibed too much wine. He drank more than his share of it when he joined us in the portrait room after you left, and when last I saw him, he complained of feeling very sleepy. I have been trying to rouse him.”

  “With that candlestick?”

  “What?” He looked at the candlestick in his hand as if it were a foreign object. “Oh!” He glanced at Hollis, then turned back to Darcy. “This does not look good, does it? I assure you—I have not used it as a weapon. Indeed, he does not appear to be injured—come see for yourself. I borrowed the candlestick from the portrait room to assist my search for Miss Heywood. Unfortunately, what remained of its taper soon sputtered out.”

  They approached Mr. Hollis’s still form. Elizabeth knelt down to attend him while Darcy kept a close eye on Sidney.

  “I thought you just said you were looking for Mr. Hollis?” Darcy said. “And before that, us.”

  “I did—I was—that is how it all began. Miss Heywood and I were trying to find you—”

  Elizabeth suspended her ministrations to interrupt. “We last saw both of you in the portrait room. You left it together?”

  “Yes.”

  “And now you are trying to find her? How did you become separated?”

  He paused. “It … became necessary. When we parted ways, it was her intention to return to the portrait room to join you and Mr. Darcy.” His expression became anxious. “Are you telling me that she never arrived?
”

  “We have not returned to the portrait room ourselves since we last saw you.” Elizabeth’s tone was subdued—a sign of her own growing dread. “Have none of the others seen her?”

  “None of the others are there. Sir Edward returned with the wrong watch and has gone back to Denham Park for the proper one. And a servant arrived from Trafalgar House to report that Tom’s son—the one with the cold—has taken a turn for the worse. Mary fears pneumonia and had hoped Diana could come to provide medical aid, but she must settle for Tom and Arthur. Miss Heywood and I were seeking you to inform you of their departure.”

  “Where are Mr. Granville and Miss Brereton?” Darcy asked.

  “I do not know—they remained in the portrait room when Miss Heywood and I left, but were not there when I went back just now—there was only a note from Granville, saying that he and Miss Brereton had to leave the portrait room but that she was safe. I assume he was vague because he did not know who else might discover the note. At least, however, we need not fear for Miss Brereton’s welfare. I wish I could say the same for Miss Heywood. Confound it all! I never should have let her leave my sight.”

  “No, you should not have.” Elizabeth’s tone was sharp, and in her criticism of Sidney, Darcy also detected a note of self-reproach. “Why did you?”

  Sidney’s gaze dropped to the candlestick still in his grasp. He shifted it from one hand to the other. “We … had a falling-out. Afterward, she wanted to be free of my company.” He looked at Elizabeth once more. “I tried to persuade her to let me escort her back to the portrait room, but she refused so vehemently that I honored her wishes, though against my better judgment.”

  “May I ask what you quarreled over?” she said.

  “It was a personal matter. I would rather not divulge the particulars. If Miss Heywood elects to discuss it with you, that is her choice, but I believe that my doing so would breach a confidence.”

  “Has it any bearing on our present crisis?” Darcy asked.

  “No.”

  Darcy wondered what sort of “personal matter” could arise between two people who scarcely knew each other, that would result in Miss Heywood making such a rash and incautious decision. A few speculations passed through his mind, none of them favorable to Sidney Parker, but he let the subject drop for now.