Kendall, in his affairs with the Bingleys, had marked just such a course. Greed to larceny, larceny to extortion… extortion to attempted murder was not too great a leap. “If Kendall is capable of having set the fire,” Darcy said, “he is capable of causing the carriage accident.”
Their supper over, she rose and gathered their dishes back onto the tray. “You know… this would not mark the first time a Kendall was in the vicinity of a Bingley family misadventure involving horses.”
“You believe the two episodes are related?”
“I didn’t until just now. Think about it, though — we said from the start how curious it was that Caroline’s riding incident lacked an obvious cause, and odd that Juliet Kendall invited her out to ride in the first place. The two had been estranged for a long time, and now Miss Kendall is frightfully angry at Caroline for ‘stealing’ Mr. Parrish from her.”
“The servants said Miss Kendall never went near Mrs. Parrish’s mare.”
“It just seems rather convenient that the Kendalls have been in proximity of a good many recent Bingley catastrophes.”
“I will grant you that. But I saw them nowhere in view when Mrs. Parrish was strolling down Bow Street, nor do I think Miss Kendall broke into the townhouse in a jealous pique to stab her with a carving knife.”
“Mr. Kendall could have orchestrated those events. Mrs. Parrish was on some sort of mysterious business with that overstuffed reticule — who is to say that her errand did not involve him? Perhaps he sought to extort the money from her that he could not legally get from her brother.”
“And when her mission failed, she tried to take her own life?” He took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead to soften his words. “My dear wife, I have long admired the liveliness of your mind, but I think it reaches too far this time. Logic does not support the connections you are trying to draw. Moreover, Mrs. Parrish’s altered demeanor since the wedding presents a much stronger case for herself as the catalyst of her own misfortunes.”
Elizabeth’s expression grew troubled. “That supports a darker possibility.”
“What might that be?”
“Mr. Parrish suspects his wife may have set the fire.”
His brows rose. “He said so outright?”
“Indirectly. But his meaning was clear. He fears she is a danger to herself and others.”
“Her injury upholds his misgivings. But the conflagration originated in Bingley’s chamber, not hers. How could she have accidentally started it there?”
Elizabeth made no answer, only met his gaze. Her eyes held sadness, pity, resignation.
Darcy shook his head. “I cannot believe Caroline Parrish would deliberately harm her brother, even in… an altered condition of mind.”
“Perhaps Bingley was not her target.”
“I cannot believe she would harm your sister, either.”
“She has never cared for Jane.”
The assertion was true — as Caroline Bingley’s unwilling confidante when they first met the Bennets, Darcy knew only too well her opinions about every member of the family. Miss Bingley had never considered Jane Bennet good enough for her brother. Yet Darcy could not see supercilious snipes leading to such extreme physical expression. Mrs. Parrish was far more likely to assassinate another woman’s reputation than her person.
“Perhaps she did not care for the dress.”
“Sneaking into someone else’s room in the middle of the night to destroy an unbecoming gown seems rather excessive fashion monitoring,” she said. “I think even Beau Brummell would draw the line at that.”
“Brummell would impale the wearer with his wit.”
“So would the Miss Bingley we once knew.”
He was forced to concur, not liking the unpleasant possibilities he was starting to entertain. While he doubted Caroline Parrish capable of deliberately trying to injure others, he could envision a scenario in which madness led her to damage property — and in which carelessness led to casualty. That potential made her more dangerous than Lawrence Kendall, for one could not anticipate her behavior.
“Mr. Parrish is wise to raise his vigilance,” he said at last. “We should as well.”
“Agreed. We shall keep a close eye on Mrs. Parrish when she returns.” She released a sigh. “I suppose that happy task will fall largely to me, as I seem to encounter her more often than anybody.”
“You
With a saucy look, she returned his impudence in equal measure. “Just to be safe, darling, I shouldn’t wear the olive morning coat in her presence anymore if I were you. It is your least flattering.”
“I was never more annoyed!”
“Vulgar woman. Insipid girls. Deadly conversation. It is good to be home.”
Elizabeth overheard Caroline’s voice as she passed the music room. After four days at Longbourn, the family party had returned to Netherfield about an hour ago. Jane reported that upon hearing Netherfield was once again ready to receive them, the Bingley sisters had ordered their coaches with alacrity. Elizabeth wondered that Mrs. Hurst hadn’t campaigned for a temporary return to the house in Grosvenor Street rather than stay with the Bennets, but Jane said the townhouse had been shut up when the Hursts left for Netherfield.
Major repairs to Netherfield’s east wing were under way and would continue for a long time to come. But the staff, aided by every servant who could be spared from regular duties in houses throughout the neighborhood, had worked tirelessly to restore the rest of the home to a habitable state so that their mistress and the others could return. Elizabeth and her sister were grateful for the generosity of so many nearby families, especially since results varied according to who had performed which tasks. Those undertaken by Jane and Bingley’s newest employees exhibited more zeal than skill: Smoky rugs looked like they’d been flogged rather than merely beaten; soot-stained walls had been scrubbed hard enough to reveal plaster beneath the paint.
“Thank heaven for Frederick and Louisa,” Caroline continued. “I should have suffocated otherwise. And to be indebted to Mary Bennet for the clothes on my back until new ones can be made — it is simply mortifying! Why must she alone among my acquaintance approach my height?”
Elizabeth steeled herself against the insults to her family. In a way, she welcomed them — Caroline sounded more like herself than she had in weeks. If her visit with the Bennets had somehow provided the push she needed toward recovery, perhaps they would all be able to return to their own lives before too much longer. Provided, of course, that no more “accidents” befell anyone.
A series of notes issued from the pianoforte, an etude she recognized as a right-handed exercise. Mrs. Parrish yet wore a bandage on her left hand; her husband said the burn was healing slowly.
“I can’t think how Charles and Darcy tolerate their new connections. They make the dullness of Mr. Hurst positively alluring.”
Elizabeth chuckled softly. She’d no idea Caroline shared her opinion of Louisa’s husband. But to whom was Mrs. Parrish speaking so candidly?
She ducked her head through the doorway, her mind rapidly assembling some excuse for the intrusion. But instead she found herself masking the surprise that had surely flashed across her face upon discovering the room’s occupant.
Caroline Parrish was alone.
_______
“Mrs. Darcy, would you be so kind as to join me and Mrs. Parrish in the drawing room?”
At Professor Randolph’s request, Elizabeth slid a bookmark into the second volume of
