| |
When Elizabeth Bennet arrives at Hunsford Parsonage to visit her newlywed friend, she is horrified to find Charlotte accused of poisoning her husband’s patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Determined to prove her friend’s innocence, Elizabeth begins her own investigation and soon discovers that Lady Catherine has many enemies. Would one of them stoop to murder? When her search for answers is challenged by the handsome, austere Mr Darcy, Elizabeth braces herself for a battle of wills, but he surprises her with a proposal of a very different kind...
READ NOW
CLICK HERE FOR PURCHASE LINKS:
––––––––
Read an excerpt from The Poisoned Proposal:
“Charlotte?” Elizabeth looked at her friend in concern. “Is aught the matter?” She glanced at the open door behind them, through which she could still hear her cousin’s voice drifting down from upstairs, then lowered her own voice and said, “Are you regretting your decision to marry Mr Collins?”
Charlotte gave a tired smile. “No, no, Eliza, nothing like that, I assure you. I own, it is not perhaps the easiest of unions, but I find myself quite content. And the community here at Hunsford is a pleasant one—they have mostly welcomed me very hospitably.”
“Mostly?” Elizabeth said.
Charlotte gave another weary smile. “There are a few at Rosings who perhaps resent my coming... but do not worry, all is well,” she said, seeing Elizabeth’s look. “Such social slights do not trouble me. No, it is something else...”
Elizabeth waited curiously as Charlotte hesitated and then said in an uneasy voice:
“There was an unpleasant incident at Rosings Park recently. I found it most disturbing. Lady Catherine was taken ill quite suddenly and it would appear that it was no normal sickness—indeed, it is suspected that she may have been poisoned.”
“Poisoned?” exclaimed Elizabeth. “Is it certain?”
Charlotte sighed and shook her head. “No, it is not certain, though there are strong suspicions. But the possibility has unleashed great unease within the community and cast a sinister pall over Rosings Park and even Hunsford village. Indeed, I confess I find the thought of such sly attacks far more sinister than outright attempts at murder.”
“When did the poisoning occur? Was Lady Catherine greatly affected?”
“It was the night before last. And no, thankfully, Lady Catherine appears to be of a strong constitution. She suffered some dizziness, muscle spasms, and nausea, but made a full recovery the next day.”
“It seems incredible,” said Elizabeth, shaking her head. “Poison is the realm of medieval novels and gothic legends. It has no place in such surroundings as Lady Catherine’s respectable circle.” She gave her friend a mischievous smile. “Perhaps there are those who resent her advice on how to clip their toenails.”
“’Tis no laughing matter, Eliza,” said Charlotte severely.
Elizabeth sobered. “You are right, Charlotte; I apologise. Poison is certainly no trifling affair. But I persist—are there those who may wish Lady Catherine harm? Perhaps some do not relish her interference in their lives as readily as Mr Collins.”
“She is an active magistrate in this parish,” admitted Charlotte. “And takes great pleasure in entering the homes in the village to settle disputes and quarrels, scolding her tenants into silence, if not harmony. She also spends a large portion of her time supervising the local families, looking over the men’s work and advising them to do it differently, whilst giving her opinion on every aspect of the women’s household management.”
“She sounds like a veritable busybody,” said Elizabeth, wrinkling her nose. “And too full of her own self-importance.”
“Eliza!” said Charlotte, slightly shocked. “Do not let Mr Collins hear you speak thus!”
Elizabeth laughed. “Do not fear, Charlotte. I shall preserve my peace when Mr Collins is about. But I confess, I am filled with lively curiosity now regarding your grand patroness and look forward to meeting her in person.”
“You will have that pleasure soon,” said Charlotte. “We have already been sent an invitation, which includes you and my father and sister, for dinner at Rosings Park tomorrow evening. Lady Catherine is delighted to have two of her nephews visiting and is keen to preside over a dinner party. She takes great pride in her younger relatives, particularly Mr Darcy—”
“Mr Darcy!” said Elizabeth. Her heart began to beat faster for some unaccountable reason. An image of the tall, handsome gentleman came to her mind. “Is he here?”
“Yes, he arrived yesterday,” said Charlotte, looking at Elizabeth curiously. “Lady Catherine has talked of his coming with the greatest satisfaction and seems convinced that his visit indicates a growing affection for her daughter, Miss Anne. You know, she and Mr Darcy were intended for each other from the cradle.”
“Are they betrothed?” asked Elizabeth, with a slight lurch of her heart. She knew not why she should care so much. After all, Mr Darcy’s personal affairs were none of her concern and she could certainly have no part in them. There had been a few times in the past when she had wondered about his feelings for her... but no, those were simply fanciful imaginings, Elizabeth chided herself.
“It is not an official betrothal,” said Charlotte. “Merely the wishes of their mothers, who were affectionate sisters. But it is certainly Lady Catherine’s expectation that Mr Darcy should be destined for his cousin and you know she is not a lady to be gainsaid.”
Elizabeth did not reply, but she wondered at Mr Darcy’s compliance in the matter. She had spent enough time in his company back in Hertfordshire to know that here was a man who did not let anyone decide his destiny. She noticed that Charlotte was still watching her shrewdly and she hoped her friend was not indulging in romantic speculation. Where her feelings for Mr Darcy were concerned, she was hardly ready to face them herself—she was not even sure what they were. She was certainly not ready to discuss them with anyone else. She turned briskly away and changed the topic of conversation.
“If you do not mind, my dear Charlotte, I think I may take the opportunity to have a short walk before dinner. The journey in the carriage was long and I would welcome the chance to stretch my legs.”
“Certainly,” said Charlotte. “And if I may suggest, you would do well to cross the lane into Rosings Park and follow the line of trees to the east until you come to an open grove which edges that side of the park. There is a nice sheltered path there, with a pleasant prospect of the house and surrounding countryside.”
“It sounds delightful,” said Elizabeth with enthusiasm. “I shall take your suggestion and go there directly.”
––––––––
Twilight was starting to fall as Elizabeth made her way along the grove, but there was still ample illumination to light her way. The leaves on the trees and bushes were wet from recent rain and dripped moisture on her as she walked between them, causing her to shiver slightly. But despite this, she enjoyed the peace and solitude. She breathed deeply of the forest air, savouring the scent of pine needles and damp earth. Ah, it was wonderful to take some exercise after the long carriage journey! Even back home in Longbourn, Elizabeth had always treasured her solitary walks around the countryside. They provided an escape from the drama and hysterics that often surrounded her mother and younger sisters, and also a chance to enjoy the country scenery. Elizabeth had always been a great walker and, aside from reading, there was no other activity that gave her greater pleasure.
As she reached the side of a particularly large beech, she heard a sound behind her and turned curiously. Hoof beats. She looked around the side of the tree trunk, back along the grove and towards a small glade visible through the trees in the distance.
A rider came into view. A tall man astride a glossy black stallion. Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat as she recognised that handsome countenance.
It was Mr Darcy.
Elizabeth jerked back and pressed herself against the tree trunk, feeling its rough bark dig into her skin. She was almost certain that Darcy had not seen her—she was far enough away and well sheltered by the surrounding foliage—but she did not want to take any chances.
Carefully, she edged out again until she could peer around the side of the trunk. Darcy had brought his horse to a halt. The big stallion wheeled in a circle, champing at its bit and pacing nervously, as Darcy tightened the reins and looked around the glade. He had the air of someone waiting for something—and a moment later, Elizabeth saw a figure appear out of the woods and approach him.
From the powdered wig and formal uniform, she could see that it was a footman—and the lavish indigo-and-gold livery he wore suggested that he belonged to a household of formidable consequence. Darcy swung down from his mount and approached him. Elizabeth was too far away to hear what they were saying and she bit her lip in frustration. On an impulse, she turned and darted back along the grove, using the line of trees for cover as she attempted to approach the glade without being seen. Her kid boots made no sound on the soft forest floor as she carefully threaded her way between the bushes and finally came to a stop behind a tree, a few yards from Darcy’s horse.
She was now able to make out the faint sound of their voices, but to her vexation, she was as yet unable to discern exactly what they were saying. They seemed to be taking great pains to keep their voices low and, from the furtive looks the footman kept sending behind him, there was no doubt that this meeting was a clandestine one.
The footman reached into his jacket and withdrew a small, slim package. He handed it to Darcy who took it and secreted it within a pocket in his own riding jacket. Then he directed a quick question at the footman, who shook his head vigorously.
Elizabeth strained her ears again, but still could not make out the words. In desperation, she took a step forwards. A twig snapped beneath her foot and the sound was as loud as a pistol shot in the quiet of the woods.
CRACK!
The horse whinnied nervously, shaking its head and blowing through its nostrils. Darcy jerked his head in her direction.
Elizabeth froze.
Had he seen her?
The light was fading rapidly now and the forest was in deep twilight. She could only hope that in the dusky gloom, he would be unable to discern her form. Her breath came fast as she saw his gaze pierce the distance between them, but after a moment Darcy turned back to the footman and continued his previous conversation.
Elizabeth let out her breath and slowly eased herself back against the tree trunk again. She could not risk going any closer, no matter how much she wanted to hear the exchange. A moment later, Darcy stepped away from the footman and swung himself back onto his stallion. Elizabeth heard his deep voice carry across the clearing.
“... and not a word of this to anyone, do you understand?”
The footman nodded curtly, then turned and melted back through the trees. Darcy swung his horse around and Elizabeth barely had time to drop down into the undergrowth before he came trotting past. She felt the rush of wind as the great animal moved past, then they were gone into the gloom of the forest.
Slowly, Elizabeth rose to her feet and stepped out from her hiding place. Darcy was out of sight now and the only clue of his recent presence was the foliage which still swayed in his wake.
What was the meaning of such a furtive encounter? What was in the package the footman had given to Darcy, and why the need for secrecy?
Her head full of questions, Elizabeth turned and started back towards the parsonage.
READ MORE
