Page 25 of Infamous Relations

Mrs. Thomas, Mr. Trent’s housekeeper, was a garrulous, friendly lady who was only too happy to brew a pot of tea and lay out thick slices of fruit cake. Invited to sit down with them by Dr. Trent, she happily did so, looking inquiringly at Charlotte when informed that Charlotte wanted to ask her some questions.

“Anything I can do, Mrs. Collins, anything at all. Miss Elizabeth is such a nice young lady! Shocked I was, shocked, to hear about her accident! Shocking!”

“Yes, indeed,” Charlotte said with a little smile, “but as Dr. Trent may have told you, poor Lizzy hit her head and doesn’t remember it at all, and I am just trying to puzzle out what on earth she was doing.”

“Well it’s my belief she was quite upset, you see, Mrs. Collins,” Mrs. Thomas leaned forward confidingly. “I was just by the window here in the front parlour when I saw her hurrying along the lane. Pouring down, it was. She must have been quite soaked.”

“You saw her?” Charlotte blinked, startled.

“Why yes, but that must have been well before her fall, because she was headed for the Parsonage, you see,” Mrs. Thomas nodded and took a sip of her tea.

Confounded, Charlotte sat back. “That was on the way back from her walk,” she said slowly. “But why do you think she was upset, about more than just getting wet in the rain?”

“Seen Miss Elizabeth wet in the rain before, haven’t I?” Mrs. Thomas nodded wisely. “She don’t normally look so unhappy. White as a sheet she was, hugging her arms around herself. Looked like she’d just heard somethin’ dreadful.”

Charlotte and the doctor looked at each other with creased brows, wondering what that could possibly mean; but Mrs. Thomas wasn’t yet finished.

“And not ten minutes later, I saw her runnin’ back the other way.”

“You saw her…” Dr. Trent gaped.

“That’s right. Don’t think I was slacking off, sir, I beg you - I was sittin’ polishing those brass candlesticks,” she pointed at two shining candlesticks on the table by the window. “But it’s dull work, doesn’t need my eyes, so I was looking out the window. I didn’t see the good colonel come back with Miss Elizabeth, though, for not a minute passed after she ran by that you yourself arrived home, all wet through. Though not as wet as Miss Elizabeth would have been by that time, for the second time she went past, she wasn’t even wearing her spencer!”

“But she was wearing it when you saw her the first time?” Dr. Trent queried.

“Oh yes, sir. I’m quite sure of it. That pretty grey one she has with the pink roses embroidered on it.” Mrs. Thomas sighed, shaking her head. “Such a lovely young lady! I do hope she feels better soon. Well, I best get back to my duties, Mrs. Collins, unless there’s any more questions, but I don’t think there’s aught more I could tell you that would be of use…”

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Thomas,” Dr. Trent said, standing to usher her out. “You’ve been of more use than you can possibly know.”

He closed the door behind the still-chattering housekeeper and returned to sit opposite Charlotte.

“Well,” he said.

“I… do not know what to think,” Charlotte said, a little stunned still.

“I don’t think Mrs. Thomas would make anything up. She does like to chatter on, but there’s no unkindness in her.”

“Indeed not! No, Dr. Trent, I am just thinking that she must be correct. Lizzy was wearing that spencer when I saw her leave for her walk yesterday morning, but it wasn’t on her when Colonel Fitzwilliam brought her back.”

They stared at each other. “So,” Dr. Trent said slowly, “in the space of ten minutes, Elizabeth ran in the rain from here, to the Parsonage, and back again, having lost her spencer somewhere along the way.”

“And been attacked somewhere along the way,” Charlotte said dismally.

“You are quite certain of that?”

“Indeed, sir!” She proceeded to tell him the information that the Colonel and Darcy had shared, that Elizabeth had already been running when she reached the path, and continued running until she fell into the stream. “And Mrs. Farley heard shouting,” she finished, standing up and going to look out of the window. The doctor joined her after a moment.

“She ran that way,” the doctor pointed. “She would not have gone anywhere but the Parsonage in the rain, surely?”

“Indeed,” Charlotte agreed. “And a few minutes later, she ran back, presumably after the shouting that Mrs. Farley heard - but Mrs. Thomas did not?”

“She’s a little deaf,” the doctor confided, making Charlotte smile.

“That explains it, then.”

“But where did she take her spencer off? Or did she lose it in the struggle?”

“If she took it off, it must be in the Parsonage,” abruptly Charlotte turned towards the door. “I must find it. I must!”