Mary Bennet and the Longbourn Tutor Read online

  “Assist you?”

  “It is an arrangement we have…”

  Darcy eyed the young doctor curiously. While he was aware of Sutton’s feelings for Mary, the idea of her working in a medical clinic was highly irregular. It was one thing to assist him privately, but quite another when it involved the entire town. However, he knew his sister-in-law was quite stubborn when she wanted something. Besides, the opportunity may encourage her to formalize their association.

  Atlas did not like the way Fitzwilliam Darcy was looking at him. He was aware that his relationship with Mary was a bit irregular, and perhaps he had been rather forward on occasion, but Mary had never voiced any objection. However, seeing it through the eyes of another made him pause… and begin to seriously worry. It would be best if he told Darcy about their suspicions in regard to Grayson Everfield.

  *****

  “Have you taken leave of your senses man?” Darcy practically shouted at Atlas after he explained what had been discovered not only about the murdered man, but also the discrepancies in the behavior of Grayson Everfield.

  Darcy was hesitant to believe that his old school friend should have fallen so far as to resort to not only theft... but also murder. It was preposterous! However, his presence would settle the matter once and for all. Darcy only need identify the tutor as Grayson Everfield, and should any further intervention on his behalf be necessary, he would do his duty, however uncomfortable it may become.

  Leaving his exhausted horse behind, Darcy allowed Atlas to take the long carriage used to transport injured patients instead of the faster curricle. It may be necessary to have additional passengers as Mary would insist upon going along to Evanston Hall to see the magistrate. As they rode in silence, both Darcy and Atlas pondered how their attachment to the Bennet women seemed to always cause some sort of distress.

  *****

  By noon of that same day, Mary Bennet had the fullest of intentions to spend the latter half of the day happily occupied at the surgery of Atlas Sutton. After she finished her algebra lesson and bid her tutor good day, she asked for a horse to be saddled. While a brisk walk sounded equally fine, it would delay her arrival in Meryton by some forty minutes, time she did not want to waste. As she waited for her mount to be brought around to the front of the house, she watched as her tutor rode out of the Longbourn drive. Oddly, he did not choose to take the direction of Meryton, instead, Everfield went opposite, as they had the other day.

  Curious as to why, Mary decided to follow at a discrete pace. Fortunately, neither horse allowed for much speed, and she was able to stay well out of sight as her tutor made straight for the old fortress.

  ~Twenty-two~

  Hours later…

  Mary tried to pull herself into a seated position, but the throbbing in her head made it difficult. Her vision swam and a wave of nausea threatened to allow her late breakfast to make a second visit. The last thing she remembered was the sounds of men arguing, one was Grayson Everfield, the other a stranger, before the smothering gloved hand had closed over her mouth.

  It had been easy enough to follow and stay unseen, but as she neared the castle walls, Mary had noticed that there was another horse already tethered to a crumbling post. Halting her own mare, she tied the poor beast to a shrub and cautiously made the rest of the way on foot. Unnoticed, she had been able to see Mr. Everfield dismount and dig deep into a leather bag that had been attached to the saddle. Producing a number of random items, with the late sun glinting haphazardly as it bounced off the gold trim of a pipe, Everfield attempted to appease the angry demands of his companion.

  “I don’t want no fancy goods that can be traced. You owe me money, and I won’t settle for anything but gold and silver coin,” snarled a very unkempt little man as he brandished a pistol in the tutor’s direction.

  “It’s the best I can do for now. I can’t just go off every day and pawn the stuff, Meryton is too far away from the city for that…besides, I have been good on my payments. I just need a little more time. There are plenty of houses… great big estates to be sifted in this place.”

  “Time is something you don’t have Benny… I’ve waited long enough! Perhaps you need a bit more convincing?” the dirty man threatened with his fingers on the handle of his gun.

  “No…besides, you don’t want to be firing that thing here. Sound carries for miles, it will be noticed.”

  “Lucky for you that I am not of a mind to be troublesome today… You have one week, that is all, or I will be telling everyone who you really are.”

  Mary’s eyes had gone wide as she crouched in a small alcove set into the outer wall near the gaping portcullis. SO many questions needed to be answered. Why had the angry man called Mr. Everfield Benny? A sick, sinking feeling began to fill Mary’s stomach and she tried to retreat to where her horse waited. It was only a few yards away, but her escape was halted by the snap of a dry twig under her boot. The noise echoed loudly in the late afternoon quiet, announcing her presence as she tried to untie her mount.

  “Grab her!” shouted the small man just as Mary slapped the rear flank of her horse, sending it bounding into the brush. She may not escape, but a rider less horse was bound to alarm someone. All she could hope is that her end would not be that of the man now resting in the Meryton churchyard. With a small prayer that death would be swift, Mary succumbed to the rough hands that smothered her breath.

  Now, as she reached to touch the raw skin around her neck, Mary tried to breathe slowly and evenly. Never one to give in to any sort of panic, fear prompted a desire to scream. With prudence holding her emotions in check, she tried once again to get her bearings. Darkness must have fallen some time ago and a damp mustiness crept into the chamber in which she sat. She must still be in the ruined fortress, but where were her assailants? Had her horse gotten away? It hurt to think, but it was all she had at the moment as weakness threatened to render her unconscious once again. At least she had not been bound. Feeling along the mossy stones, she crawled to an opening that was partially barred by a heap of stones. She was able to peek out through the cracks and see the dim recesses of the main hall. As fortune would have it, a nearly full moon shown down through the latticed timbers of the ceiling, creating an eerie illumination in the gloom. It was empty. With relief coursing through her, a rush of energy allowed Mary to push the loose topmost stones away and crawl out of her prison. But escape was not to be had so easily as the strike of a match lit the face of her captor.

  “Ah Miss Bennet…tougher than I expected,” the familiar voice of her tutor taunted from a corner.

  “Mr. Everfield? But no… I suppose that is not really you.” Mary inquired as her eyes adjusted once again. She could make out his seated form, quietly smoking. The silver signet ring on his small finger flashed against another match as he lit a single candle. This time, anger outweighed her fears, had he been waiting for her to die? Had this man killed the poor thing they had found in the woods and road?

  “Smarter than what is good for a lady…no business wanting to study like a man.”

  “You are hardly the sort to judge me… or anyone for that matter…just a common thief…and murderer.”

  “Yes, indeed. Bear that in mind, should I decide to allow you to live…but, I think not.”

  “Someone will be looking for me,” Mary insisted dryly but made no attempt to move. She was still a bit unsteady and could not get her bearings in the darkness. Placing her hand along the wall for support, she felt for anything that could be used as a weapon. Unfortunately, the only thing her fingers touched was a thick layer of moss. Grasping a sizeable clump in desperation, she nearly laughed aloud at what little assistance it would provide, but silently vowed to go down fighting.

  “Oh, I don’t doubt that you will be missed…eventually, but it won’t matter. I will be long gone.”

  In an attempt to stall for enough time to formulate a plan of escape, Mary decided to appease her curiosity.

  “So, who exactly are you…not G
rayson Everfield.”

  The man waved his cigar in her direction as if her question was of no value. Mary once again saw the flash of silver on his small finger. Noticing her focus, he twisted the circlet off and tossed it across the room. A faint thud could be heard where it hit the stone floor.

  “No, I am not. And with that small piece of vanity, all parts of him are gone, despite his usefulness….I am no one…only the bastard child of a governess…of no account to anyone.”

  “Your friend… he called you Benny?” Mary asked as she cautiously moved a bit closer to where moonlight cast a shadow through the doorway.

  “My friend? Oh, so you did hear quite a bit…but Jimmy Hawkins’ only friend is himself… and definitely not me.” Rising, the man stubbed out the remains of his cigar and took a step towards Mary. Bowing formally, he made his introduction, “Benjamin Reynolds, at your service.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what? Why does one person kill another? Why does a person steal? Oh Mary… I expected far more common sense from one such as you. But perhaps you are just as sheltered and spoiled as any other young lady of your class. Tell me… have you ever known what it feels like to be hungry? Not simply having missed a meal, but true hunger? A hunger so great that it tears holes in your middle and makes you cry out?”

  Mary did not reply, she had no ability to understand such, but could not believe that it justified murder. Taking her silence as encouragement, he continued. “Do you know what it is like to see those you love disgraced? Unable to show their faces in places they were once welcome? Imagine having to return to your precious Longbourn begging at the servants’ entrance? No! Of course you don’t! All you know is a life of privilege! Well let me tell you Miss Mary Bennet of Longbourn… the rest of the world has to fight to survive… fight or die.”

  At this point, Mary knew it would be useless to reason with him. Despite her very clear understanding of just how precarious a person’s position in life could be, she doubted he would listen… or allow her to leave. Fear turned to sheer panic as the sound of rapid hoof beats were heard in the courtyard. Had this monster been awaiting his accomplices? Flinging the clod of moss and dirt squarely in to his face, she bolted for the opening, only to be stopped by another pair of strong arms as they restrained her flight. Flailing madly, she barely comprehended the voice of Atlas Sutton telling her to stop.

  “Mary! It is me, Atlas! Stop hitting me! You are safe!” he shouted as Darcy pointed a polished brass pistol squarely at her attacker.

  “It’s over.” Darcy ordered as more hoof beats announced the arrival of Sir Philip Evans and the constabulary from Meryton.

  Sneering at the sight of the gun, Benjamin Reynolds laughed aloud. “If it isn’t Fitz Darcy…don’t you remember me? Or, are the relatives of servants beneath your notice?”

  Darcy looked at the man quizzically. While familiar, he could not recall where he had previously ever met him. The only surety was that he was definitely not Grayson Everfield. Gesturing with his pistol, Darcy ordered the man to walk in front of him towards the entrance as shouts could be heard from the courtyard.

  Realizing that any possibility of escape was rapidly dwindling, Reynolds lunged for the pistol, causing a careless shot to send the crumbling wall of the fortress crashing down on top of them both.

  ~Twenty-three~

  After a medical examination and drinking a strong sedative, Mary was put in her bed for some much needed recovery. It had taken nearly two hours to extricate the four of them from the rubble, but fortunately, the only injuries were scrapes and bruises. Mary, having been previously assaulted, bore the worst of the ordeal. Now, as she awoke to the streams of bright sunlight coming through the window of her own bedchamber, she momentarily believed that the events of the previous day was some strange dream. A dream, until she saw the sleeping form of Atlas Sutton slumped in the room’s only chair. His rumpled clothing and scraped hands bore evidence that her experience was all too real. Smiling to herself, Mary realized that this was twice that he had literally spent the night in her chamber. While highly improper, despite being done so in a medical capacity, Mary was comforted that he would remain by her side and wished to prolong the scene. However, despite the slight wave of dizziness that threatened to overcome her as she rose, her need for answers was greater. Nudging him awake, she simply pointed to the door.

  “I will be down shortly, and want a full explanation.”

  Atlas only laughed, such was his relief that Mary had been found relatively unharmed and had returned to her regular sassy self. Retreating below stairs, he located Mr. Bennet in his library, sharing coffee with Sir Philip Evans and Fitzwilliam Darcy.

  “What time is it?”

  “Nearly noon,” replied Sir Philip with a disapproving eye from the knowledge of where Atlas had spent the night. It would not be soon enough that his goddaughter wed the young doctor. Handing the young man a steaming cup, they had no opportunity to question him before Mary’s knock could be heard outside the library.

  Letting herself in, she closed the door and sat quietly next to Atlas on the small sofa her father used for his afternoon naps. Primly dressed in a plain silver gray day dress, she folded her hands in her lap. The image of innocence, Mary waited for one of the gentlemen to speak. Unfortunately, it was her father that shook an angry finger in her direction.

  “Have you any idea of how much you frightened all of us?” he demanded.

  “Papa… I…”

  “Don’t speak! It is fortunate indeed that your horse showed more sense and made its way to Evanston Hall or it could have been worse. What were you thinking?”

  Atlas cleared his throat and attempted to speak, but three sets of angry accusatory eyes bore into him with equal blame.

  “You knew about this and said nothing!” snapped Sir Philip.

  “I hardly have the right to tell Mary what to do…not that she would heed me if her mind was set. Besides, we are all safe and well, and the man is in custody.”

  Nods of agreement seemed to mollify the group and Mary felt it was safe to speak. She was not about to apologize for her involvement. If not for her, he may have gotten away with murder.

  “Darcy… Mr. Everfield…I mean Benjamin Reynolds, said he knew you. How is this so?”

  Not having been present when the exchange occurred, both Mr. Bennet and Sir Philip looked curiously at the owner of Pemberley to explain. Sighing with unnecessary guilt, Darcy proceeded to explain the connection.

  “Benjamin Reynolds was the son of my housekeeper’s niece. I had not seen him since he was a child, but when he said his name, I could fancy a bit of a resemblance. And then there was the matter of the locket. His mother, Evelyn was her name, occasionally came to Pemberley to visit her aunt. They never stayed long, usually leaving within a few hours. I remember when Evelyn was accepted to her first post as a governess at _____ton. Mrs. Reynolds was so proud that she gave the young woman her grandmother’s locket as a remembrance. We found it among Benjamins belongings at the Dancing Duck, in addition to what must have been nearly a hundred pounds of stolen goods. I never knew what had become of them. I never really gave it much thought until now.”

  “I wonder how he came to be with Grayson Everfield?” Atlas asked aloud.

  “Random chance…an unfortunate one for Mr. Everfield,” replied Sir Philip. He had spent some hours that morning interrogating Reynolds, now being held in Meryton’s tiny gaol before transfer to London for sentencing.

  “He admitted to having killed the real tutor, and probably would have gotten away with it,” added Mr. Bennet.

  “It was Mary’s examination of the man’s hands that gave it away,” Atlas interceded. He did not like how Mary was being treated when her analysis of the remains was the critical discovery.

  “When will the trial be held?” Mary asked.

  “There will not be a true trial, one is not necessary with a full confession. A judge will hear the crown’s testimony and then pronounce sentencing. Dr.
Sutton’s reports as well as a written statement from you will suffice,” Sir Philip explained.

  While relieved that she need not face her captor again, Mary had mixed feelings about Benjamin Reynolds. She could sympathize wholeheartedly with his difficulties, but not if it resulted in harming another. Wishing that things had been different, she posed one last question to the magistrate.

  “What will happen to him?”

  “The charges of theft are significant, but not when combined with murder. At best, transportation to Australia for life… at worst, hanging.”

  Swallowing hard, Mary rose and left the room. She needed time alone to contemplate what had happened, but it was hours before she allowed her anger and betrayal over the death of Grayson Everfield to outweigh Benjamin Reynolds childhood poverty. There were millions of poor in the world, especially England, but they did not become killers.

  ~Twenty-four~

  One month later…

  Mary drove her personal carriage to the surgery of Atlas Sutton for her scheduled work day. The money saved by not paying a tutor’s salary had gone to the purchase of a gently used lady’s carriage. It had taken much to swallow her pride and accept Atlas’ offer to take the place of a new tutor. Privately, Mary was relieved to not have to go through the process again. It had been difficult enough to quell the gossip once the entire town discovered that a thief and murderer had openly walked in their midst. Now, as the man had been caught and subsequently punished, she hoped it was truly over. Her written testimony had not been necessary aside from the discovery of Grayson Everfield’s missing signet ring being worn by his killer. The cold, detached nature of the murder had propelled the judge to pronounce a death sentence. Benjamin Reynolds was hung the following week, leaving Mr. Darcy to inform his housekeeper, a responsibility that Mary did not envy. Fortunately, other events soon distracted the residents and Mary attempted to place some sense of normalcy back in her life.