James checked Mrs. Darcy’s room several times through the slit to make sure no one was in the private quarters. He had done the same with Miss Darcy’s room before he had made his way through the passage and across the girl’s room. Now, he peered around the screen before moving to the portal. He would not be long, so he set the opening for his speedy return. Georgiana Darcy’s room at the end of the hall was two doors from her brother’s master suite. James opened her door enough to enter the hall, leaving the latch loosely fastened. He took a calculated risk, symbolically sending Darcy a message.The break in the weather signaled a change in the household.They must make their presence known once more and then make their escape—no more haunting Pemberley’s hidden channel. They had come here for one purpose only, and tonight would be the proof of the pudding.

James quietly opened the door to the master’s chamber. Decorated in rich tones of red and mahogany, the décor spoke of Fitzwilliam Darcy’s tastes—never ostentatious—always refined. Even James admired the breeding and the masculinity of the man. He slid into the empty room and traversed the short distance to the master bed. Pulling back the drape, he staged the scene.“A nice touch,” he muttered as he arranged a bloody towel upon which Gregor had wiped his hands and the straight razor from the lieutenant’s room in the center of Darcy’s bed.“Perfect.” He straightened the folded cloth before letting the drape fall to its proper place. As he hurried toward the end room, he realized it might be a day or two before anyone found his clues, but it would satisfy his sense of the dramatic all the same. Darcy spent every evening in his wife’s bed, so the man might not see the “masterpiece” right away, but he would find it. James had no doubts.

After slipping into the gaping opening, he turned the lever to close the wall entrance in Georgiana Darcy’s room. He sought the mattress, Sleep now, he thought as he made his way to the antechamber. “Tonight,” he grumbled. “I need some sleep before tonight.”


Darcy, Stafford, Worth, the colonel, Sir Phillip, and several of the Pemberley footmen entered Cathleen Donnel’s room.They agreed to start at one end of the hall and to work their way from room to room. Adam Lawrence groused about the impropriety, even though he agreed to the necessity of the search. “It just does not seem proper,” he told the men as they rummaged through Cathleen’s private belongings.

Sir Phillip opened the drawer holding the lady’s undergarments. “Would you care to help with this one, Stafford?” He waited until Adam stepped up beside him. “It is not proper,Your Lordship; yet, I know of no other way to prove a person’s innocence or his fault in such cases.”

“I understand, sir.” Adam held the older man’s gaze for a few elongated seconds before giving in. “What must I do?”

“Check everything.”

With a simple nod, Adam’s hands delved into the silky items. Something hard rested on the bottom of the drawer. He withdrew it from among Cathleen’s chemises and corsets.

“What have you found?” the colonel called as Adam gingerly withdrew the item.

“A book,” Adam rasped out when he saw the gold-leaf pages. “I bought this for Cathleen a couple of months ago. She saw it in a window and instantly wanted it.” Without thinking, his fingers traced the raised letters.

“A first edition?” Darcy asked.

Adam shook his head in the negative. “Simply a limited edition.” He opened it and thumbed through the pages.

“Grimm—the brothers,” Darcy peered over the viscount’s shoulder. “Fanciful stories.”

“Yes,” Adam mumbled.

Worth picked up a small tied packet from the floor. “You dropped these.” He handed the viscount a beribboned bundle.

“What have you there?” Edward Fitzwilliam asked before searching the wardrobe.

Lawrence bent the edges of the paper to take a closer look.“Letters.” He fanned the stack. “From Cathleen’s family and a few from me.” He stared at how she had included his notes along with those from her cousins and her aunt and uncle. Cathleen cared for him—she thought of him as her family. A dried flower—a red rose—he always gave her red roses—Cathleen’s favorite—rested on top. He placed the items reverently in the drawer where he had found them. Allowing Cathleen Donnel to leave him might be one of the hardest things he ever did, but it was the right thing, and Adam had no choice but to let her go—let her try to find happiness with someone who could love her the way she deserved to be loved.

“There is nothing unusual to find among Miss Donnel’s things,” the baronet declared.

Worth added quickly, “As we all expected.”

“Who is next?” Sir Phillip asked.

“The next occupied room is that of Mrs. Williams.” Darcy turned to lead the way.

Sir Phillip caught Darcy’s arm to stay him. “Let us leave the good lady’s room for one of the last ones. If what I suspect is there, I do not want to neglect the other rooms, and I fear the solution to one part of the mystery lies within Mr.Williams’s room.”

“As you wish, Sir Phillip. The private quarters, then?” Darcy waited for a moment for the man’s agreement. They walked past Mrs. Williams’s room and turned to the left. “This one is Lady Catherine’s suite.” He held the door open for the others.This time, the duty of inspecting Her Ladyship’s private items fell to Darcy.“It is like touching the Holy Grail,” he grumbled.

Lord Stafford chuckled.“Some pieces are probably relics in their own right.” He good-naturedly patted Darcy on the back as the master of Pemberley lifted an oversized corset between his fingertips.

“I found a small portion of a chalky mixture in this jar,”Worth extended the container toward Sir Phillip.

Darcy suddenly joined the others, who peered into the suspicious ingredients. He touched his finger to the powder, taking a smudge of it on the tip, and then he touched the dry mixture to his tongue’s surface. “Bitter,” he remarked, grimacing as his tongue spread the taste throughout his mouth. He moved to fill a glass with water to wash the acerbic grittiness away.“How can women subject themselves to such stringent measures?”

“Her Ladyship admitted to partaking of the arsenic-laced mixture upon occasion,”Worth recalled from their previous meeting.

“She did,” Stafford confirmed.

Sir Phillip resealed the jar.“Let us keep this as possible evidence.”

In Anne’s room, they found several letters from Harwood, those supposedly sent to Anne’s maid as part of the lieutenant’s ruse. Worth read one before the others realized the nature of the items. His expletives alerted Sir Phillip to the intimacy Harwood shared.

“Hopefully, Miss de Bourgh will not mind my commandeering these,” Sir Phillip remarked as he placed the stack in the drawstring bag he carried.

Darcy glanced over his shoulder at an agitated Nigel Worth, who slammed the desk drawer closed. “I believe my cousin, as well as Mr. Worth, would happily agree to never seeing them again.”

Sir Phillip smiled.“I will see what I can do.” He gestured to the door. “Who is next?”

“My sister, of course. And Mrs. Darcy’s and mine.”

“I believe we can dispense with those rooms,” Stafford remarked as they walked toward the open door.

“No…I insist,” Darcy called from behind them as they exited the room. “No one should be above reproach.”

In Georgiana’s room, Darcy again did the honors of examining the more personal items. Not really expecting to find anything of import in the girl’s room, they spent most of their time reenacting the “floating candle” of which both Miss Darcy and her brother had told the others.

“Here are some letters from you, Colonel.” Worth teasingly thrust several letters into the officer’s open hand. “It seems Miss Darcy prefers your correspondence to those of her other friends.”

“My sister leads a quiet life,” Darcy remarked.“She is a very private person; I cannot imagine Georgiana having a slew of friends to whom to write.”

“Neither can I.” Edward tossed the stack back onto the desk in an act of nonchalance, but a moment of tenderness tugged at his heart.

Finally, they entered the master suite, examining Elizabeth’s quarters first before moving through the adjoining dressing rooms to Darcy’s sitting room and bedchamber.

Edward leaned in close, where the others could not hear.“When was the last time you slept in your father’s old room?” he inquired.

Darcy could feel color rushing to his face. “Of late, I seem to prefer my mother’s previous room,” he muttered.

Edward grinned largely.“You devil! You have finally found happiness. I envy you, Darcy.”

Sir Phillip casually circled Darcy’s bedchamber while Stafford and Worth examined the items on his desk and table.“I see nothing of any remark.” Adam Lawrence thumbed through a stack of bills and some personal correspondence.

“Neither do I,” Worth noted as he rummaged through Darcy’s closet. “Other than several pairs of immaculately shined boots, there is nothing of note.” All the gentlemen except Darcy snorted and chuckled.

Then the four entered the bedchamber and came up short—Edward Fitzwilliam leading the way. All eyes rested on a frowning baronet. “What is it, Sir Phillip?” the colonel asked with an air of authority.

The baronet remarked with a raised eyebrow, “You might wish to see this.”

Lawrence, the colonel, Worth, and Darcy moved en masse to peer over and around the magistrate. They caught the burgundy velvet drape on either side of the posts and pulled the curtains wide to study what Sir Phillip now scrutinized.

“It appears we have found the weapon used to murder Harwood,” the colonel stated. No one moved; they simply stared in disbelief at the bloody towel and straight razor.