Sir Edward stepped forward and shooed the girls away from Mrs. Clay. “Lizzy, how long were you all in the music room?”
Elizabeth was not sure, and looked to Mr. Darcy. “Since around noon,” he said, checking his pocket watch. “It is now nearly four.”
Mr. Tilney let out a heavy sigh, a tear sliding down his face. “Shewaskind,” he murmured. He dabbed at his cheeks and then cleared his throat. “So, all the servants sat down to eat at around half two?”
“It was surely the killer who locked us up; I presume because we were in rooms near the servants’ passage. They must have gone after her straight away, for if we were to be in groups together, they would have little opportunity to be alone.”
“If theywerealone, Miss Bennet,” Mr. Tilney mused. “But where have you all been since noon, Mrs. Penny?”
“After breakfast was sent up for those who wanted it, I cleaned the kitchen while Sarah washed all the dishes, and Albie dried them and put them in the cupboards.”
“Nobody in the pantry then,” the valet said.
Mrs. Penny scowled at him. “It must have been half eleven when Sarah and I went to help in the laundry, while all the lads were tidying in the parlor and the dining room. Then at half one, we came back here to get our afternoon meal ready.”
“And did you ever open that pantry?”
“No, I had everything prepped in the larder; there was a great deal left over from last night, you see,” Mrs. Penny saidwith a frown. She glanced down at Mrs. Clay and trembled. “Albie, get a tablecloth, would you? Not one of the fancy ones, mind.”
As the valet followed this command and covered Mrs. Clay with a simple ivory tablecloth, Mr. Tilney began to pace. “So, that pantry had not been opened since this morning? And nobody was in the kitchen from noon until half one? But where was Mrs. Clay? Or rather, where was she supposed to be?”
“I thought she was in the stillroom with Martha, Mrs. Rushworth’s maid. They were meant to be making blackberry marmalade.”
Mr. Tilney crouched down and lifted up the tablecloth to peer at Mrs. Clay. “Yes, her fingertips bear a stain from the blackberries. She must have been in the stillroom, but where is Martha?”
“She’s a quiet little wisp, I can’t recall if she ate with us. Sarah?”
“No, Mrs. Penny. She told Grace, Lady Susan’s maid, that she was going to have a lie down, she had a headache. Grace said Martha was acting hysterical about it.”
“Where is the stillroom, Sarah?”
“Just there, Miss Bennet.” Sarah pointed at a doorway not far beyond the pantry Mrs. Clay had been stuffed into.
Elizabeth opened the door and peeked into the room, and Mr. Darcy followed her. Blackberries were strewn across the floor, and a large wooden rolling pin lay on the floor in the midst of the debris. “I think I can guess what happened,” she murmured.
Mr. Darcy gently tugged at her elbow and led her back through the kitchen. Emma had found a tray of biscuits, and was eating one with a look of tremendous agitation.
“I suppose we ought to find out what Martha knows,” Cathy said.
Sarah went to fetch Martha, who was not asleep in her quarters. They set about seeking out her mistress, Mrs. Rushworth.
“She is with Lady Susan and Miss Denham, I believe,” Sir Edward replied.
Mr. Willoughby frowned. “Was she not with you, Sir Edward, and my uncle and Mr. Parker?”
“She was, but we did not spend long searching for the key. Sir Walter had a notion for constructing a raft to get across the moat, and when Mrs. Rushworth did not wish to exert herself in assisting us, Sir Walter escorted her back to her chambers.”
Elizabeth and Emma exchanged a knowing look, while Mr. Willoughby shook his head. They could see that he did not wish to give voice to what they knew in the middle of the corridor, where anyone might be lurking. But Elizabeth shivered as she asked, “Was he long in returning to you afterward?” The expression on Sir Edward’s face was all the answer she needed.
She knocked on the door when they reached the suite Mrs. Rushworth was sharing with Lady Susan and Miss Denham. The door opened a few inches, and then Lady Susan smiled at the sight of her niece. “Emma! Have you brought your friends to condole withpoorMrs. Rushworth?”
Emma bristled with impatience at her aunt’s mischievous tone. “We are looking for her maid, Martha.”
“Some new intrigue? Come in and tell us all about it.”
There seemed an unspoken agreement amongst them not to mention that they had deduced the identity of the killer, but they were obliged to inform the three ladies that there had beenanother murder. The ladies made every proper show of outrage and horror, though their exasperation was genuine enough.
Mrs. Rushworth was steely-eyed. “What of that raft Sir Walter means to make?”
