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“I gave up pressing them, but I will find out the truth,” Kitty added.
“There is something about a widow named Archer…” Elizabeth trailed off, straining to remember. “Something I read in the paper.” She closed her eyes, trying to picture the article. Fortunately, at least in her head, the words didn’t swim. “No, not read. I was reading about Wellington abandoning the siege of Badajoz.” She opened her eyes. “When was that? July?”
“I think that was in June.” Kitty contemplated her for a moment. “You truly believe there was something in the papers about the Archers?”
“I truly do.”
“I can ask the housekeeper if they keep any?”
Elizabeth forced a smile. Surely, she would be able to read again soon enough? Even if not, she wasn’t ready to reveal her difficulty. “That is a fine idea.”
“Also, Miss Bingley took the letter Miss Cat used to trick Mr. Bingley to Uncle Phillips. Uncle Phillips is not certain they have enough to make a case to unentangle Mr. Bingley, but he is looking into it. Miss Bingley also had Uncle Phillips write to a friend at a firm in London, to have a letter sent to Mrs. Archer’s London address. She is convinced that the Archers are not who they say they are. She went on again about counterfeit Madame Dentelle gowns.”
“So she seeks confirmation from the real Mrs. Archer that she is not in Hertfordshire with her five daughters?”
Kitty nodded. “Precisely.”
“That will take some time.” During which Jane would continue to suffer. Elizabeth closed her eyes, worry weighing her down. “Is that the plan about which you were speaking?”
The chair creaked and Elizabeth cracked an eye open to see Kitty lean forward, her grin a touch vicious. “Oh no. My plan is much more entertaining. You are going to like it. It is a wonderful plan.”
Elizabeth sat up straighter, caught up in Kitty’s glee. “Tell me.” She propped a few more pillows behind her, having no trouble staying awake while she listened to Kitty outline her plot against Miss Catherine Archer.
Chapter Twenty-One
Despite the top of her head being tender to the touch, Elizabeth felt much recovered as she and Kitty stepped from her room the following day. More importantly, with a bit of concentration, she’d proven able to read the stack of papers Kitty asked the staff to bring her. Knowing her ability to read hadn’t deserted her made Elizabeth feel far, far better than even days of rest could.
She only wished Jane could be made happier with such ease. Though their objective was one of Netherfield Park’s drawing rooms and tea with Miss Bingley and Charlotte, Elizabeth and Kitty both turned to Jane’s door.
“Should we ask her again?” Kitty said softly. “She has been in there since she spoke with Mr. Bingley.”
“I do not want to press her. We need her to remain in her room tomorrow.”
“You hardly need a plan to keep her in her room tomorrow if she refuses to leave it,” Kitty said sadly. “Are you certain you do not want to join us for tea tomorrow? What real chance is there of Jane coming down at the precise moment the Archers call?”
“A very slim one, but we are agreed that Jane will not add to the plan and may even hinder it, so I will keep her occupied with tea to be safe, just as we will ask Charlotte to do with Mama.”
Tea with Jane tomorrow, and Miss Bingley inviting Charlotte today to secure her assistance, were both Elizabeth’s idea. Kitty didn’t seem to feel either necessary, but Elizabeth did. Yes, Jane would likely stay in her room. Yes, Mrs. Bennet, Mary, and Lydia were unlikely to call precisely at the same time as the Archers, but why leave either to chance? A good plan included recognizing and avoiding pitfalls.
Kitty shrugged and they set off along the hallway, away from the door to Jane’s room.
They had a good plan. A very simple one that involved Kitty dousing Miss Catherine with tea in the guise of an accident, so she would need to rush off somewhere private to attend to her gown. Miss Bingley had already fitted out a room for the purpose, complete with a large cabinet in which Mr. Fletcher might hide, a miniscule hole now drilled through the front, perfectly placed within the flowers painted there to appear as part of the design.
Apparently, Mr. Fletcher had convinced Miss Bingley that the owner of Netherfield Park would never take note of the small hole. His surety made Elizabeth wonder from what other cupboards and wardrobes the man had spied. She’d yet to actually meet the gentleman, but being the grandson of an earl couldn’t possibly make up for such underhandedness.
She could only hope Kitty and Miss Bingley weren’t placing too much trust in him. They only had Mr. Hurst’s word on who Mr. Fletcher truly was, after all. Despite the changes Kitty described in Mr. Hurst over the past few days, Elizabeth didn’t care overly for him, either. None of which was helped by Mr. Hurst and Mr. Fletcher’s secrecy about what crime they suspected the Miss Archers of committing.
If only she could find something in the stack of papers, Elizabeth mused as they neared the head of the staircase. She knew she’d seen an article about someone named Archer this past—
Mr. Darcy stood in the entrance hall below, looking up at her. He thrust his hat and gloves at a nearby footman and started up the steps, his greatcoat billowing about him.
Below, Mr. Bingley called, “I will await you in the carriage, Darcy,” without any of his usual good cheer, and tromped out.
Elizabeth spared no thought for Mr. Bingley’s sorrows, far too absorbed in watching Mr. Darcy.
He halted on the top step. “Miss Elizabeth. Please permit me to assist you.”
A tremble went through her, having nothing to do with the fatigue that plagued her yesterday and everything to do with how near Mr. Darcy stood. How his gaze traversed her face with such intensity.
