“Sir, Mrs. Collins departed the parsonage four hours ago, carrying her satchel. I do not know where she may have gone. Have the gardeners or servants been questioned?”
“Not yet, though I shall see to it immediately. Tell me only what hour it was when you last saw her.”
“It was two o’clock. I had only just sat down to a late luncheon when she arrived. She refused refreshments, collected her clean laundry, and departed the house.”
“Very well, sir. I shall question the servants and dispatch men to search the estate. Will you assist us?”
“Yes, certainly. I will search the grounds surrounding the parsonage.”
“We have reason to believe she was taken somewhere within the estate. A brown satchel was discovered abandoned upon the green. Both Jane and Elizabeth identified it as belonging to your wife.”
“Then I shall search the road skirting the estate. Perhaps she was carried away in some sort of equipage.”
“I wish to assure you, sir, that every servant upon the estate shall assist in the search for your wife.”
“Thank you, Colonel. That is a great comfort.”
In the end, the search scarcely commenced before it came to an abrupt halt.
The servant charged with collecting the post from Hunsford returned less than thirty minutes after the search had begun. While sorting the letters, the butler discovered one written upon coarse paper in an undistinguished hand scarcely legible enough to read. It was directed to her ladyship.
Drake carried the note to Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was searching the grove with Anne beside him.
Richard broke the seal. It was from a member of the Aldington Gang.
The message was brief.
Richard read it to Anne.
“Your ladyship, we have your daughter, who will be unharmed, provided the goods stolen from us are returned. You must respond within twenty-four hours, or we shall kill your daughter and descend upon your residence. Address your reply in care of A.G. and leave it at the Westerham post office. Do not attempt to trace us through the post office. Many in this district owe allegiance to us and will protect our anonymity.”
Anne pressed her hand to her mouth. “The gang seized Mary for ransom, believing she was the daughter of the house. Richard, I have seen no barrels, crates, or hidden goods anywhere uponthe estate. I cannot imagine where such contraband might be concealed.”
Richard drew Anne into his arms and held her close. “You might have been taken, Annie. They may have watched the house for weeks.” He fell silent for a moment before asking, “Might Benny possess some knowledge of this?”
“He may. I shall send for him. Richard, what are we to tell her sisters?”
“The truth, though no one else must learn of this.” He bent and pressed a kiss upon the top of Anne’s head. “Mr. Collins must be informed.”
“Yes, the rector must be informed. But will he keep the matter to himself?”
“He must. If he does not, we shall send him to his father-in-law until this business concludes. But what explanation shall we offer for ending the search?” Richard took Anne’s hand, drew it through his arm, and led her back toward the house.
Anne said, “We may say Mrs. Collins fell ill and collapsed in Elizabeth’s dressing room. Elizabeth slept at the time and knew nothing of it.”
“That explanation will serve better than any other. The entire affair strains belief. Who would imagine our elderly relative was involved with a smuggling gang? She never sought our assistance.”
“Richard, let me inform her sisters of the truth. Once they are past the shock of it, they will assist us in concealing it.”
“I shall wait a quarter hour and then call the search party off with the news that Mrs. Collins has been found, though dangerously ill.”
“Very well. I shall go to them at once. What of Mr. Collins?”
“I will go to him now.”
“Richard, ask him to remain at home. I do not believe any of the Bennet sisters think well of him. Besides, I have caught him staring at Lizzy, and I do not trust him.”
A quarter hour later, Anne sat in the bedchamber with the two Bennet sisters before speaking.
