to greet them. He had dark hair touched with grey and a pleasing countenance, though the latter presently bore a somber aspect that matched Darcy’s own mood.
The gentleman acknowledged Mr. Melbourne with a familiarity that suggested casual acquaintance, then bowed to Darcy and Elizabeth. “Welcome to Northanger Abbey. I am Mr. Henry Tilney. What may I do for you?”
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Tilney,” said Mr. Melbourne. “We did not mean to disturb you — the servant must have misunderstood. We are here to speak with your brother.”
“I am afraid that he is beyond speech.”
“Oh, dear,” Elizabeth said. “The captain appeared to be recovering from his injuries. I hope his health has not failed?”
Mr. Tilney regarded her curiously. “One might say so, madam. My brother is dead.”
“You are describing what never happened.”
“Dead?”
Elizabeth’s exclamation held all the shock Darcy felt. Captain Tilney, the one person who could elucidate this whole affair — silent forever. Though Darcy regretted the lost life, in truth he regretted still more the lost enlightenment their late host might have provided regarding the diamonds. His death was most untimely, for more persons than the captain.
“We received word this morning that Frederick died from injuries sustained while serving with his regiment,” Mr. Tilney said. “I am just arrived myself to begin settling his affairs.”
Mr. Melbourne muttered some appropriate sentiment of sympathy, which Darcy and Elizabeth recovered themselves enough to echo.
“This is astonishing news, indeed,” Darcy added. “Though his injuries were extensive, he bore them with such fortitude that we had no notion his survival was in question.”
Mr. Tilney studied Darcy as if attempting to make out his meaning. “You speak as if you had seen my brother recently.”
“We last saw him on Wednesday.”
“Wednesday!” Mr. Tilney’s keen eyes widened. His expression of surprise, however, lasted but a moment — it quickly gave way to one of doubt. “Where?”
“Here at Northanger. We took our leave of the captain after having spent the previous night as his guests.”
Mr. Tilney stared at Darcy, seeming to have not quite heard his reply. His countenance, which upon their introduction had been open and genial — if subdued by sorrow — became guarded.
“Forgive me — you say you passed Tuesday night here, at Northanger Abbey, in my brother’s company?”
“You must think us extremely inconsiderate to have intruded on your brother’s privacy whilst he was so afflicted,” Elizabeth said. “I assure you, we never intended to do so. We were not aware until well after our arrival that our host had recently suffered injury. By then, night had fallen and the storm raged at full strength. We could not depart until the following day — which we did.”
“Yes,” said Mr. Melbourne. “With Mrs. Tilney’s diamonds.” The magistrate withdrew a cloth bag from the pocket of his coat and handed it to Henry. “After the Darcys departed, these were found in their possession. I understand they belonged to your mother.”
Mr. Tilney loosened the drawstring and lifted out the necklace. “It has been so many years since I laid eyes on this set that I had utterly forgotten about it.” He turned an inquisitorial gaze on Darcy. “How did you come to have these?”
Darcy hesitated. He still suspected Captain Tilney had orchestrated the setup, but he could hardly malign a dead man to his brother without evidence to support his theory. Henry Tilney had no reason to believe him, and every reason to distrust him.
“I wish I knew. But I assure you, I did not steal those diamonds. Though my wife and I did happen upon them in your mother’s chamber, we left them untouched.”
Now Mr. Tilney’s increasing displeasure encompassed Elizabeth, as well. “What cause had either of you to enter my mother’s chamber?”
“We passed the night there,” Elizabeth said.
His posture stiffened, and he regarded her incredulously. “You
“The captain’s.”
“Impossible!”
“Consult the housekeeper,” Darcy said, attempting to deflect Mr. Tilney’s ire away from Elizabeth and upon himself. “She installed us there.”
“Northanger has no housekeeper at present. The previous one retired six weeks ago and has not yet been replaced.”
Darcy exchanged glances with Elizabeth. While Dorothy had not possessed the competence of a senior servant, she had certainly seemed to possess the authority of one. They must have erred in their assumption of her status.
“We mean the servant Dorothy,” Elizabeth clarified. “We took her for the housekeeper.”
“I do not believe Northanger Abbey has ever employed a housekeeper named Dorothy,” Henry said. “But there are many things about your story I find difficult to believe. Very well, let us summon this ‘Dorothy.’”
Mr. Tilney rang for the butler, who denied the existence of any Dorothy among the household staff.
Elizabeth frowned, her countenance reflecting Darcy’s own increasing frustration. “She is perhaps five- or six-and-thirty,” she said.
The butler shook his head.
“A tall, blond woman with a handsome countenance?” Elizabeth pressed. “Not particularly attentive?”
“I am sorry, madam. I cannot think of a servant at Northanger who could be so described.”
Mr. Tilney crossed his arms and cast Darcy a look of impatience. “Perhaps you would like me to summon all the female servants for your inspection?”
“Most of the maids are still away, Mr. Tilney,” said the butler. “As I was explaining before your visitors arrived, the captain’s military duties kept him from Northanger for such long spans of time that we have been operating with a reduced staff, and he recently granted the remaining household servants an unexpected holiday.”
Darcy could not help but interrupt. “The entire staff — at once?”
“Indeed, one seldom hears of such liberality on the part of any employer. But Captain Tilney sent me at the same time to Lincolnshire to interview a new housekeeper, so I was able to make the journey without leaving a house full of servants unsupervised.”
“When did you return from Lincolnshire?” Darcy asked.
“Wednesday night.”
Darcy’s thoughts tumbled one upon another as he watched the butler depart. If Dorothy — or whatever her name might be — were not Captain Tilney’s servant, who
“Mr. Darcy, it seems that this Dorothy person does not exist,” said Mr. Melbourne. “You have been caught in one lie. Do you care to recant any of the others before they are disproved as well?”
Indignation nearly robbed Darcy of speech. He could not bear to have his integrity so challenged. “I have told
