“I think Sir Walter and Mr. Willoughby were standing near the window when it blew open,” Emma said. “What if one of them unlatched it?”
“I should mark that down,” Harriet told her. “And also, Mr. Crawford and I think Mrs. Rushworth were standing near the captain just before….”
When Harriet had finished her scribbling, she handed the papers to Cathy, who smeared ink on her hand as she collected them. She and Sir Edward began to pin them up on the wall. Emma went to help. She placed theInnocentplacard on one side of the wall and pinned the one that saidSuspiciouson the other side.
There was some debate amongst them, but they eventually agreed upon the placement of all the suspects, which had not varied too much from what it had been before. As Cathy began to replace the green, blue, and pink strings to connect them, Elizabeth examined the wall. “This one is smeared with ink.”
Cathy glanced at it; the bottom of the page was illegible from where she had brushed her hand over it. “Oh, he is near the innocent side, anyhow. Now tell me, shall I connect a pink string from you to Mr. Darcy? You had a great deal to say to one another during our exploration this morning.”
Elizabeth jerked her head toward Mr. Darcy, suddenly struck by something he had said – or rather, had not said. When he so easily agreed to her adding a thread of connection to the wall, had he thought she meant a pink string between them? Could that have been why he did not explain himself in her confusion?
“He told me what he told us just now of the secret the general held over him, and he advised me on how to approach my uncle about… everything.” Elizabeth kept her face neutral, though this was not the whole truth. There had been something tender between them, though it was not one of the more important matters for her mind to dwell upon.
Cathy grinned. “What anintimateconversation! Perhaps a very light pink thread, but it is a fair beginning. I wish Mr. Tilney would think to cry on my shoulder!”
Elizabeth swatted at her sister. “He rather looked as if he had been crying, when the gentlemen returned from… their task.”
“I thought so, too,” Cathy agreed, slumping her shoulders. “I fancy him madly, Lizzy. If Mr. Tilney really is guilty, I shall never recover from it.”
Elizabeth cocked her head to one side in a sardonic pose. “You have known the man three days.”
“Well, I have not met very many, you know,” Cathy pouted. “None so handsome, nor so charming.”
“Nor so… in possession of an ancient castle, which is now sure to be haunted?” Elizabeth grinned, and Cathy did likewise.
“It is something every handsome man should endeavor to possess, if he possibly can.”
Chapter Seven
Acting upon Mr. Darcy’s advice, Mr. Tilney had arranged a luncheon for everybody, so that they might discuss what was next to be done. Elizabeth and her companions agreed to keep their investigation a secret, lest they make targets of themselves. Sir Edward suggested that it would be entirely plausible to say that he and the ladies had spent time growing better acquainted, and Mr. Tilney teased that he and Darcy had been with them to woo the young ladies, causing Cathy to pinch Elizabeth when Mr. Darcy agreed.
In the dining room, an ample buffet had been laid out; no servants attended them, but they passed the dishes and served themselves as if it were a casual family meal. All the while, though, they eyed one another with suspicion, whispering amongst themselves.
When he was ready to address them, Mr. Tilney stood and clapped his hands to silence the nervous chatter at the table. “Regrettably, we did not end last evening in any semblance of accord, but we are in crisis, and I believe we have much to discuss, which ought to be said openly and transparently. We must reach an agreement about what is to be done.”
“I think we can all agree that we wish to get out of here alive,” Mrs. Rushworth said, and her husband snorted with laughter.
“Regrettably, indeed,” Mr. Crawford hissed. “You hardly seem to regret the events of yesterday. I cannot imagine remaining so cavalier after the death of a father and brother.”
“I am sure he has been weeping today,” Cathy cried.
“Indeed,” Sir Edward agreed. “When we moved the captain’s body to the cellar with the others, Mr. Tilney was quite overcome.”
Their host offered his guests a wan smile. “I am aggrieved that my father was such a man, and my brother was growing very like him. I have been pained by the loss of my esteem for them for many years, but my grief is not like that of a man who has lost someone dearly beloved.”
“He did not much care for them, and it bothers him not that they are dead,” Lady Susan said with a mocking wave of her hand.
Sir Walter curled his lip at her. “And areyouterribly distressed about it?”
“If I were related by blood, I should at least pretend to be,” Lady Susan quipped.
“It is interesting to me thatsomepersons who may have more suspicion cast upon them than others are so quick to blame Mr. Tilney, who is such an obvious culprit that I am entirely convinced of his innocence,” Miss Denham said, grimacing at Lady Susan and Mr. Crawford.
Mrs. Rushworth bristled at this. “Why should some of us be guiltier than others?”
“Because, madam,” Mr. Tilney began to say, but Mrs. Rushworth waved her hand at him dismissively.
“I was not finished speaking, sir, and I hardly want to hear fromyou. This is all your fault! What did you expect, inviting us all here. It might have all been resolved through correspondence, if you wished to be of aid to us, without setting us all up for disaster.”
