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Items 36a and 37

Posted on Saturday, 16 February 2008

‘I am afraid this has turned out very wild; very wild indeed.' - Mrs R.

36a. The Rev. Wickham Younge to His Eminence, the Bishop of ---

Note: This letter was not part of the original collection, but we deduced its existence and were able to track it down and add it to the collection. --- Lina Hamilton.

Lambton, 17th May, 190-

Sir,

I feel it my duty to contact you immediately. As you will undoubtedly remember, I am the Rector of Lambton Church, and as such, count also the estate of Pemberley to my Parish. Said estate was, if you will recall, most unfortunately connected to several incidents of a most alarming and, dare I say, obscene nature over the last few years.

You will remember perhaps, that after counselling with you, I felt it my sad duty to inform the magistrate of certain proceedings, which were both disgusting and dangerous, to have taken place not only at Pemberley, but also, alas, in my very own church, of all places. You then agreed with me, as you may recall, that the personages residing then at Pemberley were a great danger not only to themselves, but also, much more importantly, to others.

That some of them openly and unembarrassedly displayed their Papist religion was, as you so elegantly put it, only the tip of the iceberg. You and I feared that apart from their Roman traditions, there were other, even more heathen, traditions at work. We were both of the opinion that whatever it was that happened to those unfortunate young women could not, in any way, be explained with even the most crude of the many vulgar traditions of that faith. You will remember that even after that poor unhappy girl died, mercifully, from the horrible injuries she had been forced to endure, the outrageous behaviour of the creatures residing in said house did not stop. Quite the contrary, indeed, for the events culminated, as you undoubtedly know, in that unspeakable deed that was done to the miserable maiden's body after her tragic demise, although, of course, the magistrate was not able to prove it had indeed been them who had acted in this abominable manner.

This is precisely why I am now writing to you, your eminence. I have the hope that we may now, finally, be able to firmly point our finger of accusation at those wretched creatures, who, I am unhappy to say, have once more crawled back into their lair at Pemberley. I must beg you to accept my most humble apologies for not coming to this point sooner, but I can barely contain my excitement at the prospect of finally being able to install law and order in my parish once more and thus had to bring the events of the past years before your eyes once more so that you shall be able to wholly share my joyful eagerness.

What happened this morning and then forced me to send this missive to you as soon as possible, is the following. Very early this morning, shortly after dawn, I went to the church in order to light the candles and ensure that everything was in order for the morning services. I do not normally begin my preparation quite that early, but there had been a confusion regarding the altar-decorations the previous evening and I wanted to make sure that there were no more remnants of decaying flowers. To my utter surprise, upon entering the church, which, as I feel it my duty to point out, had again not been locked by the ladies of the parish after they decorated in the evening, I found a young lady in earnest prayer kneeling before the altar; a young lady, moreover, whom I had not encountered before. Upon hearing me entering the church, the lady rose from her position, crossed herself and faced me, her eyes wide with terror. She had, as I detected at once, a foreign comportment, but her behaviour was otherwise quite gentle and her recent actions had quite clearly proven her to be a good Christian. She at once apologised to me profusely for having sought refuge in the church, but she had, she said, not known any other place to go to.

I assured her she was of course welcome to seek help from the clergy, as this was our prime duty to the people, and that I would most gladly accept her honest and most humble apologies. She then said that she should trespass upon my hospitality for only a little longer, for she expected a good friend to come to her rescue any minute, and was sure she should leave the county of Derbyshire quite soon. She asked me whether she might be allowed to stay in my church until such time as her friend had arrived here. Sensing that there was something else beside those things she had mentioned, I graciously allowed her to treat the church as her refuge for as long as she needed it and also urged her to have no hesitation in confiding in me if there was anything she wanted to talk about privately. She most thoroughly thanked me for allowing her to stay in my church and added that she would love to relieve her secrets to me, but that unfortunately, she was in no position to talk about what she had experience. There had been, she said, some questions she had wanted to ask me, but that this was neither the time nor the place to ask them and that she would have to go to London first and make enquiries there before she would be able to go back to Derbyshire and further her investigations here. These words, as you may well imagine, naturally spurred my curiosity. I asked myself whether this young lady might be what the two of us have hoped for, namely, an investigator from the Home Office, sent here to finally provide proof of the heinous crimes we know the inhabitants of Pemberley to have committed. The fact that she was a female, and, moreover, one of a foreign origin, of course clearly spoke against this theory, but on the other hand, I pondered, would not a foreigner and a female be the person least likely to be suspected of working for the government, for precisely those reasons, and was that why it had been her who had been sent?

I then came to the realisation that if my little theory was right - and I was quite convinced it was - something truly spectacular must have happened very recently to make her change her plans in so drastic a manner. I was determined to find out more. I promised the young lady that whatever she would want to confide in me, I would treat is as a complete secret and not divulge it to anyone; I also urged her to ask of me any question she might have.

To my utter surprise, she asked, in her foreign accent, whether I was well acquainted with the family at Pemberley. You will be well able to imagine how elated I felt. All my suspicions instantly confirmed!

I replied, cautiously (for I dared not yet tell her that I had seen through her cover, for fear that, unlikely as it was, I had been mistaken after all), that I knew them but little, for they seldom came to church and rarely ever had contact with the village. The young lady smiled understandingly and said this was just as she thought it would be. She then asked if it was true that the family had suffered, in recent years, a dreadful tragedy. I was by then even surer of all that I had suspected of her. In no uncertain words, I confirmed what she had said, and told her the gruesome story of Miss Georgiana's disappearance. It is normally not a habit of mine to shock young females such as this lady with horrendous tales, but in this case, I felt it my duty to relay everything I know about this abominable affair to her, not least because she had obviously not come to me in her position as a female, but as a government official.

Let me just briefly recapitulate the shocking tale I summarised for the young lady, in case you are not quite as familiar with the particulars as I am, for I know you are a very busy man and have to have a great many details in your memory, so that it may well be that some have escaped you for the moment.
As you may recall, when the present owner of Pemberley was but an infant, the ownership of Pemberley was passed on to a distant relation of the deceased Sir Roderick Darcy, a Mr Benedict Darcy, who, it pains me to say, was, in spite of his acceptable name, a foreigner, both by birth and by nature. Sir Roderick Darcy had been a perfect British gentleman - bear in mind that all I am now relating to you I have learnt from trustworthy third parties, not having been here at the time - whose only eccentricity had been the continuing tutelage of his foreign grand-nephew, even when that person began to show signs of depravity and moral perverseness, that were quite obvious to all but the doting old gentleman. After Sir Roderick's death, his will proved to all the extent to which he had been taken in by that snake at his bosom. Instead of leaving Pemberley to his deserving and English nephews through his wife, Sir Roderick left his house, his fortune and all his possessions to his despicable foreign relative and thus ensured that Pemberley went into the hands of criminals and heathens, for instead of selling the house to an honest Englishman, as would have been the decent thing to do, Mr Darcy and his family moved in at once and brought evil into the village. Lady Anne, Mr Darcy's wife, was soon found to be a woman of loose morals, for all her titles seemed to suggest the contrary, and, though it pains me to speak such about our nobility, it was always doubtful whether her numerous offspring which she produced soon had all been fathered by her husband. The current Mr Darcy was her eldest son, the child she had already had when she came to Derbyshire. She gave birth to more children, but the parents were punished for their sins and their morals and only two of these poor creatures survived infancy. Unlike their elder brother, these two had not inherited their parents' immoral attitude and turned into decent, charming creatures. It were probably these reasons which cost them their lives. For Mr Darcy and his wife died shortly after each other, from, as was known in the village, that disease which punishes depravity (even though influenza was officially given as the reason) and young Master Fitzwilliam became master of the estate and turned out to be even more censurable than his condemnable father. The earth on old Mr Darcy's tomb had not yet set when young Master Gottlieb, a honest, delightful lad, was known to have disappeared. Mr Darcy let it be known that he had emigrated to America, but everyone knew that in reality, Mr Darcy had callously murdered his own brother and then disguised his foul deed.

I, who had at that time been new in the parish, of course at once informed you, my superior, as was my duty, and you advised me to contact the magistrate as the local authority, but he claimed there was not enough evidence to conduct an inquest. Well, you and I both know that there was more than enough evidence, when scarcely a year later, Miss Georgiana, a neat young girl, found her untimely end under more than suspicious circumstances. As you will recall, the body had never been inspected properly, due to the fact that it had vanished from the shabby room where they had lain her, merely hours after she had died in the same miserable apartment. We cannot, of course, as I told the young lady this morning, be entirely certain as to the causes of the poor girl's death, but whether they be natural, contracted from a prolonged illness due to the negligent care of her brother, who never had a physician see her, whether she brought her end upon herself with her own hands because she could no longer suffer the horrors she had been made to endure by her depraved brother and his frivolous companions, or whether she was murdered in cold blood, we know we must hold her brother responsible for her demise.

It is still a mystery to me, and probably to you as well, how Mr Darcy managed to assassinate - in the most obscene way - his sister and his brother, and still runs free, especially as I know that in this case, the magistrate had the highest interest to clear up these dreadful happenings. I do not dare imagine on what level these wretched creatures must have influence if they can wriggle their snake-like way out of an accusation for crimes as heinous as these.

Even the year after that, when the unfortunate young girl who was staying with these ogres was found with every bone in her body broken - and this time, not even Mr Darcy could prevent a physician from seeing her - no indictment was made even though it was obvious that the miserable wench must have been cast out of a window, probably because she had refused to take part in the heathen orgies that we know to take place in that house. I know for a fact that the magistrate tried his utmost to find enough evidence against the monsters, but it was all for nothing. The case was finally closed a few weeks ago, as if what had happened to the poor creature after her tragic demise had not been enough to do away with them forever. I hardly dare write it down - only to imagine that, in my own church - that they molested her body in the most obscene way imaginable, as you of course well know. And the day after that, they all left for good, which is proof enough of their guilt if you ask me, and I am sure you will agree with me there. That they now stealthily returned makes me fear for all young girls in the vicinity, and so I told the young lady when I finished my tale.

She most heartily thanked me for all the information I had provided her with and asked me to allow her to have a short look into the church records so she could verify one or two things. I of course happily obliged her, seeing that it is but my duty to a government official, even if she is a female, and went to fetch these documents from my study in the parsonage.

Imagine my utter surprise when, upon my return, I found the young lady gone! These things had managed to steal yet another girl from directly under my nose, and before I had even learnt her name!

Even larger was my surprise when only minutes later, a gentleman and a lady stormed into my church and demanded that I release a Miss Bennet instantly. I told them the story of the young lady who had come and disappeared and described her physical aspect to them, whereupon the lady identified her as the same Miss Bennet they were searching for. They then introduced themselves as Lord and Lady Metcalfe, which most thoroughly impressed me, because the mere thought that I was harbouring such noble persons in my own humble church! - but I digress.

I furthermore am confident that Lord Metcalfe is working for the Foreign Office, and thus my suspicions about Miss Bennet must be true, even if both Lord and Lady Metcalfe denied all involvement in the affair, which is only natural, seeing that it must be of the strictest confidentiality.

I am writing to you now, sir, because I am at a loss what to do and am seeking your counsel. I wonder whether I should contact the magistrate myself or wait for Lord Metcalfe to do so. I am of course more than happy to place the whole case into the hands of such a dignified and noble person as Lord Metcalfe, but I am not sure whether he sees the full gravity of the situation and wonder whether I should give him a gentle hint. What is your most appreciated advice?

I remain, sir, your most obedient servant, Wickham Younge.

37. William Richard Collins, Lord Metcalfe, to Mr Daniel Saunderson, Esq., c/o The Home Office (sent per express courier)

The Lamb and Haddock, Lambton, 17th May, 190-

Saunderson, old boy,

I fear I need your assistance; Lady Metcalfe and I have run into a bit of a problem. One of Lady Metcalfe's friends has disappeared from the face of the earth after an unfortunate meeting with some sort of pagan sect or other (do your boys have anything on a family called Darcy?) and now Lady Metcalfe fears for the worst because the local priest, a total baboon, has told her some cock-and-bull story about some satanic ritual or other.

I'd rather not involve the local magistrate, who seems to be a pal of the buffoon, and wondered whether you have anyone in the area who could be of help. I don't wish to create a fuss but I feel responsible for the girl. I also must say that she is normally rather sensible, so it's of course entirely possible something has happened to her. Her name is Elizabeth Bennet and the place she is suspected to be is a house called Pemberley. Lady Metcalfe is afraid the owner may be a sort of criminal, but if we have not heard from Miss Bennet by tomorrow morning, I shall go there and enquire in person, and that magistrate shall not stop me.

I am sorry to have had to drag you into this unpleasant affair at all. My best to Mrs Saunderson and the children.

Yours etc, Metcalfe

Lady Metcalfe and I will stay here until we have heard from you or found out more and I do hope you'll reply soon because the food and the lodgings here are rather below par.

Items 38-40

Posted on Sunday, 6 April 2008

‘I recommend a greater dose of reality in this author's writings.' - A.E.

38. Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Charlotte Collins, Lady Metcalfe

Pemberley, 17th May, 190-

Dear Charlotte,

I am not sure why I am writing to you. I have no idea when, how, or even if, this letter will ever reach you, and for all I know, you might come here any minute, in which case I would not have to write to you at all. I need, however, to sort my thoughts, very desperately, and since they left me my pen and paper, it is probably best if I write it all down. There is not much else to do in any case, seeing that they locked me into my room and confiscated most of my books. But let me start at the beginning, otherwise you will never understand what I am talking about. I was up very early this morning, writing that letter to you, because I could not sleep. My plan was to have breakfast very early and then go into the village under some pretence and see what I could find out about the people of Pemberley. Then your telegram arrived and changed my plans. I do admit it, Charlotte: I panicked and lost my head. To leave Pemberley instantly (I had, of course, my bag ready, as always) clearly was an overreaction on my part. Even if what you suspected was true (and I still cannot say whether it is) I should of course have staid at Pemberley. It is what I swore to do and where my duty lies. Arnold would never have abandoned his post, that much is sure, and I promised him - well, no, I admit that this is not really the whole truth. I did promise Arnold that I would continue what he had begun, but I also promised that I would not endanger myself if I could avoid it. Still, the fact remains that Arnold would have staid at Pemberley, and so should I. The harm has been done, however, and there is no use in crying over spilt milk; thus I will refrain from doing so.

Let me continue with my story. As you know, I left Pemberley at dawn, after receiving your telegram - I enquired the way to the village church from one of the servants and left the house. I did not pause to pack anything, but simply grabbed my bag and left. I was very lucky; upon leaving the house, I encountered the milkman and he took me into the village with his cart so I did not have to walk. He dropped me off directly at the church and I entered it immediately, hoping that it would give me some protection. You must keep in mind that I was still half afraid that a vampire might be after me, or else a human mass murderer, and I reasoned that either would be hesitant to enter a house of worship. Once inside the church, I was able to calm myself and order my thoughts and I came to the conclusion that I had acted in haste. I knew you and Collins would arrive very soon, so I decided to wait for you two and then discuss the case with you. Unless you had new evidence against Mr Darcy and the others, I decided, I would ask you to return to Pemberley with me and we would clear up what was hopefully just a misunderstanding. On the other hand, there was still the fact that Mr Darcy was in possession of objects belonging to the V.D. and there was no explanation for that apart from that he was a V.D. himself, which I thought highly unlikely. I feared that Mr Darcy might be working for the government, trying to track people like me down. To cut a long story short, I had still not come to a decision as to what to do next when I was suddenly interrupted in my reflections by the rector.

That man, Charlotte, defies every attempt to describe him. He is full of an inexplicable hatred towards Mr Darcy and his friends and seems to think himself on a crusade against them. He has told me a lot about Mr Darcy and I have no idea whether I ought to believe him or not. He did mention the deaths of Miss Darcy and Miss Steele, of which I heard a little before, so I am inclined to think his facts must be right. On the other hand, he is a pompous, conceited sort of man, very full of himself and inclined to think ill of everyone apart from himself and his bishop. I would prefer it not to have to believe such a person, for he is a most disagreeable man. The way he kept looking and even winking at me was disgusting and downright obscene. I have no idea what he was trying to tell me, but he kept hinting at a special bond that must exist between us, which I found very disturbing, to say the least. I was glad, therefore, when he offered to go and get the church records from his office in the rectory, because I desperately needed time to think about what to do next and I did not think I would be able to come to a decision in his presence.

He went and I strolled through the church. To my surprise, I found a nook devoted to the memory of the Darcy family. Commemorative plates had been let into the floor and the walls. Some of them dated back as far as two hundred years; other, however, were more recent. One was in memoriam Roderici Darcy equiti qui obiit XIV die mensis aprilis anno Domini MDCCCLXXVIII aetatis suae 75 et Annabellae uxoris suae amatae quae ei praeierat aetatis suae 42. Requiescant in Pace. Another one, even more recent, read: In memoriam Benedicti Augusti Darcy viri honorabilissimi clementissimique qui obiit aetatis suae 48 et reliquit uxorem amatam duosque filios filiamque.
Et in memoriam Annae Darcy uxoris suae mulieris prudentissimae benevolentissimaeque quae secuta est marito suo post duos menses aetatis suae 45.
Et in memoriam Georgianae filiae eorum quae obiit aetatis suae 15 et defleta est a fratre suo amante.
Benedicat eos Omnipotens Deus et requiescant in pace.
Next to those plaques, a smaller one, less ornamental, with an English inscription, was fixed to the wall. It read: ‘In the memory of Lucy Steele, who died too young.‘ The date below this was from about a year ago.

I stared in shock at these epitaphs. They very clearly confirmed all that the Reverend had told me, but did that indeed mean that he was telling the truth, or had he only fabricated his story around the known facts? Georgiana Darcy, however, was dead, that much was clear and proven, so I knew that at least Colonel Fitzwilliam had deliberately lied to me. I was more than ever at a loss what to think and dearly wished that you and Collins would be with me soon and tell me what to do. I wondered when you would arrive - did I dare hope you were on your way even then?

It was pondering these questions that I stood before the Darcy‘s plaques. I was slowly tracing the lines reporting Georgiana Darcy‘s death, wanting to find a word that I had overlooked, that would alter the meaning of her epitaph, when suddenly, I heard a voice behind me.

‘Turn around slowly, Miss Bennet,' someone said, ‘and raise your arms above your head.'

39. From the journal of Miss Caroline Bingley (continued)

I encountered neither Miss Bennet nor anyone else on my way to the church. In fact, I was half worried about how empty the streets were until I recalled that it was still very early in the day, even though it did not feel like that to me: too much had already happened. I was glad about the lack of people after I had thought about this. It would make things easier should I be forced to persuade Miss Bennet to accompany me back to Pemberley. I was about to enter the church through the side entrance by the parsonage; Miss Bennet had not been in the church-yard or, as far as I could tell, in the grounds of the parsonage. Before I could touch the doorknob, however, the door suddenly opened from the inside. There was nothing for me to do but to hide, so I jumped behind one of the hydrangea bushes, hoping that the Colonel would not see me. Out stepped not Miss Bennet, but that oaf Mr Younge, who calls himself Reverend, although he is anything but.

‘I will get the documents to you, as soon as I have found them.' he called back into the church.

I was now more certain than ever that Miss Bennet must be inside that church and wanted to enter at once. Unfortunately, however, Mr Younge did not see fit to leave and instead stood there rooted to the spot and began muttering incoherently about the blessings which had befallen him, while mopping his sweaty brow with a rather disgusting piece of cloth. I did not want to consider anything which Mr Younge thought a blessing and only wished I could get out from behind that stupid bush. Unfortunately, I was in plain view of Mr Younge and could only wonder that he had not yet espied me. Finally, after spitting into the hydrangea - and missing me by mere inches - he left and after I waited for a moment to make sure he did not come back, I was able to enter the church at last. I softly closed the door behind me and looked around. It was quite cool inside the church and there was no source of light but two candles on the altar. Miss Bennet was standing next to the Darcy plaques, of all places. Of course, there was nothing that could give us away on them, but I still thought that it could not be good if she became too interested in Darcy family history. Quietly, I walked over to her. She did not notice me; she was touching the plaque they had mounted for Georgiana, very softly, as if caressing it. It was very eerie, the way she was stroking the grey stone, and a shiver ran down my spine. I could not say why, but I knew I did not want her near there. In the calmest voice I could muster, I asked her to turn around and step outside with me; there are things I would rather not do in a place of worship.

To my utter surprise, she followed me without further ado. Once outside, I showed her my badge.
‘You - you are a -?' she stammered.
‘Indeed, I am,' I said quietly, ‘and I believe you know what I must ask of you now.'
She nodded slowly.
‘If you would then please accompany me,' I said. ‘In case you do not agree with me -'
I showed her what else I had brought with me.
‘That will not be necessary,' she said meekly. ‘I will come with you.'
Together, we set off to where the men and I had left our horses.

40. Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Charlotte Collins, Lady Metcalfe (continued)

It was Vienna all over again. I slowly turned around and found myself looking at Miss Bingley. I had of course half expected her, but it was nevertheless a kind of shock to see her there. She was clad in black, with a long, black skirt, a white shirt with a black tie, a black riding jacket and a black top-hat. She looked directly into my eyes and did not flinch nor blink. It was obvious that she was determined to do what she had to do.
‘Kindly step out with me for a moment, Miss Bennet,' she said in a cold, flat voice. ‘There are some things I would rather not discuss in a church.'
I have no idea why, but I followed her in silence. I could have protested, but I did not.

Once we were outside the church, Miss Bingley turned over the lapel of her jacket. What she had pinned to her jacket surprised me to no end. It was a V.D.-badge, Charlotte, of all things! I knew not what to think. Did this mean they were members after all? Or were they impersonating them? But how, then, had Miss Bingley come to the badge? The V.D. are never careless with their possessions, least of all their badges.
‘Is - is that a -?' I asked. ‘You - you are a -?'
She confirmed it with no emotion in her voice at all.
‘I believe you know what I must ask of you now,' she said.
I was amazed that she seemed to know that a V.D.-badge would convince me to return to Pemberley with her. How did she know I knew what that badge represented at all? Had she guessed who I was? I did not dare ask her, or tell her about myself, until I knew what exactly she knew and only nodded in acknowledgement of her words.
‘In case you do not agree with me -' she continued.
I blinked. She had pulled a small revolver out of the pocket of her skirt and pointed it directly at my heart. I could tell from the expression in her eyes that she was determined to use it if she needed to.
‘That will not be necessary,' I said and swallowed.

In silence, Miss Bingley lead the way to the village green, where three horses were tethered to a tree.
‘Can you sit astride in those skirts?' Miss Bingley asked and eyed me doubtfully. ‘No, I think not. Well, you can take Andrew and I shall take Lancelot. The Colonel has spoilt him, but he will do for a short ride.'
‘I am not really much of a horsewoman,' I said.
‘Anyone can sit on Andrew,' Miss Bingley said and patted Andrew's nose. ‘He is very well trained, and the kindest horse imaginable.'
I have to admit that Andrew, a large, black beast munching grass, did look rather harmless, but I was anxious nevertheless.
‘Andrew knows the way back very well,' Miss Bingley said once she had helped me mount his back, ‘and I will be right behind you, so do not try anything funny.'
She then swung one leg over Lancelot's back and it turned out that what I had taken to be a skirt was indeed a pair of trousers with very wide legs, in the pocket of one of which she was, as I knew, carrying a revolver. She made a clopping noise with her tongue and Andrew broke into a canter.
I have to say that Miss Bingley is a very amazing woman. Had we met under other circumstances, I am sure we could have become friends.

Translation of the inscriptions:

In the memory of Roderick Darcy, Knight, who died the 14th day of the month April in the year of the Lord 1878 in his 75th year and of Annabelle his beloved wife, who had preceded him in her 42nd year. May they rest in peace.

In the memory of Benedict Augustus Darcy, a most honourable and mild man who died in his 48th year and left a beloved wife and two sons and a daughter.
And in the memory of Anne Darcy, his wife, a most prudent and benevolent woman who followed her husband after two months in her 45th year.
And in the memory of Georgiana their daughter, who died in her fifteenth year and was mourned by her loving brother.
May the Almighty God bless them and may they rest in peace.

Items 41-43

Posted on Thursday, 10 April 2008

‘The author lacks moral fortitude.' - M.B.

41. From the diary of Col. The Hon. John S. Fitzwilliam

17th May, later --- One of these days, shall have to wring Caroline's neck, if I do not marry her. She gave me the most horrible fright today; I am still shaking all over.

How she managed to get such a hold on my - but enough of that; it is nobody's business but mine and I will deal with it in time.

Journey into Lambton was rather uneventful, apart from Caroline suddenly discovering that she was riding side-saddle, which was rather amusing, to tell the truth. We tethered the horses on the village green and separated; my assigned destination was the train station. Did not encounter many people on my way there, apart from the milkman on his cart. At the station, learned that the next train to leave the station was destined for Newcastle and would leave at noon; next train to London was the night train, which would leave in the evening. None of the people at the station had seen a lady of Miss Bennet's description that morning; was also told that no ticket had been sold for either the London or the Newcastle train on that day. Concluded that the train station was a dead end and was about to leave again when suddenly, the station master seemed to recall something. He pulled me aside and told me that if I wanted to get away from Lambton, I might try to secure a place on the Edinburgh train, which was to make a short stop at Lambton when it passed in half an hour. Pointed out to him that he had not mentioned this train before, for which he apologised, explaining that as the train was not usually stopping at Lambton, he had forgot to tell me about it. He told me that they had just received intelligence of this unplanned arrival; he suspected that some rich gentleman had bribed the driver to stop close to his country seat, although it pained him to tell me this because of the bad light it threw on the morals of His Majesty's train drivers. Once more, I asked him whether there was any possibility that a young lady had learned about this train. This he denied; only he and one of his subordinates knew about the Edinburgh train and they had told no one but me.

Thanked him for wasting my time with railway gossip and set off again. Outside the ‘Lamb and Haddock,' met Brandon, who had not been successful either. No stranger of either Miss Bennet's or anyone else's description had been seen in this establishment, nor had anyone been seen in the ‘Crown.' The maids, he told me, had promised to sent him word if anyone unknown turned up in the localities, but he doubted that anything would come of that.
Disappointed, we returned to the village green, hoping that Caroline had had better luck. We received a great shock when not only did we not find Caroline there, but also discovered that Andrew and Lancelot had gone as well. Fresh traces in the mud told us that Caroline and someone else had been there recently. We feared that someone or something had forced Caroline to flee, or worse, had taken her with him. Without further discussion, untied Guinevere and set off in pursuit of Andrew's tracks on the riding path, while Brandon remained behind to search the streets of Lambton.

Have no idea how I managed not to get killed on the ride back to Pemberley (for there the tracks went). In the stable yard at Pemberley, found Andrew and Lancelot being walked by a groom; no sign of Caroline there either. Groom rushed to my side and took Guinevere from me, asking whether I would need her again or whether I would have breakfast with the ladies first; they having just returned from their morning rides. Gazed at him in disbelief for a minute, then rushed indoors, only to find Caroline calmly coming down the stairs, taking off her hat and straightening her hair.

Without any sign of remorse, Caroline asked had I found back all right. Did not want to be drawn into an argument with her again, especially not after the morning's revelations, but could not refrain from pointing out that she had behaved very irresponsibly by leaving with the horses without trying to let us know she was alright She snapped that her safety was none of my business and she would prefer it if I steered clear of her personal affairs. Replied that it was only decent to let your partner know where you were when working together such as we did.

She was momentarily silent, probably realising the truth of what I had said, and before she could say anything else, Mina came downstairs and asked what items Caroline thought they should bring to Miss Bennet, now that they had locked her up in the small drawing room.

42. From the journal of Miss Caroline Bingley (continued)

When Miss Bennet and I had returned to Pemberley, I brought her to the small drawing-room and locked her in for safety reasons, then told Darcy, Harker and Mina, who were finishing the search of Miss Bennet's room, that I had found her and brought her back. I suggested to Darcy that as soon as the Colonel and Col. Brandon had returned, we ought to hold an emergency meeting and discuss what we ought to do with Miss Bennet. I then went downstairs again to see whether any rumours had spread among the servants and to quell those rumours with some tale or other. When I went down the main stairs, who should enter the hall though but the Colonel himself, very red in the face and out of breath.

I then realised that I had left him without a horse in Lambton and wondered whether the poor man had had to walk back to Pemberley.

‘Did you come back all right?' I asked and was about to say something compassionate.

My compassion would have been wasted, however, for he was terribly angry with me for not telling him where I went, and seemed to think I should have scratched a message in the mud with the tip of my toe.

It appears that he thinks that only because I am temporarily engaged to him, he has the right to control my life. Luckily, we were cut short by Mina, who wanted to know about Miss Bennet. It then turned out that while the Colonel had returned with Guinevere, Col. Brandon was still in the village, with no possibility of returning to Pemberley. Mina and I therefore sent the Colonel to Lambton with his auto-mobile in order to find Col. Brandon. In the meantime, Mina and I made sure that Miss Bennet had all she needed and that she is safely locked in while we hold our meeting, which is to start as soon as the Colonel has returned with Col. Brandon. I shall go downstairs now and see whether they are ready for the meeting.

He said something strange, though, when we were arguing. The Colonel, I mean. He sees me as his partner ...

43. Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Charlotte Collins, Lady Metcalfe (continued)

The ride back to Pemberley most certainly was an experience. Miss Bingley had been right, Andrew was a rather harmless creature, and his trot was quite steady, but nevertheless, I did not feel safe at all. You know how I do not like to ride at all and the neck-breaking speed to which Miss Bingley had urged the horses was entirely too fast for my taste. Miss Bingley, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy herself; at least, she said so when we dismounted from the horses and handed them to a groom. She then took my arm and led me away to a side entrance of the house.

‘I am going to lock you in upstairs,' she said, ‘for your own safety.'
‘What is going on here?' I asked. ‘Can you not tell me what is happening here?'
‘I think you know that very well,' she said.
‘But what is going to happen to me?' I asked.
‘I do not know yet,' she answered, ‘but I think we will come and speak to you soon; you can explain yourself then.'

With that, she locked me into the small drawing room into which we had retired last night after dinner.
Having nothing else to do, and to keep myself from panicking, I began to examine my temporary prison cell. It has one door, carved out of massive wood and firmly locked. On the wall opposite it, large French doors open onto a small balcony (the room is on the first floor), but they are locked as well, and no key in sight. Two sofas and several armchairs, grouped around a narrow table, stand in the middle of the room, with one of the sofas facing the French doors and the other facing the large gold-rimmed looking glass hung above the piano on which Miss Bingley has last night entertained me. I inspected the looking glass closely, in the hope that it might provide a secret exit in the same way the portraits in the other drawing room did, but I had no luck. I could not discern any way through which one might be bale to pry the looking glass from the wall.
Next to the piano stands the small cabinet from which Miss Bingley took, the night before, her alcoholic beverages, and on the wall opposite the cabinet, there is a small writing table.

There is nothing secret or hidden about this room, nor could I detect any other way out than through the locked doors.
Frustrated, and beginning to become more and more nervous about my fate, I decided that perhaps a drop of Miss Bingley's brandy might be just the thing in these circumstances, even if I had to drink it out of one of her lemonade glasses. The cabinet was unlocked, but to my utter surprise, it did not contain either bottles or glasses, nor did it look as if it had ever been used to store drinks at all. There was a collection of sheet music in there, probably to be used at the piano, a couple of candles for the chandelier and a stack of pillows, with lavender sachets stuck between them.

I understood that whatever Miss Bingley had been drinking yesterday, she had enacted a charade for me. I only wonder why? Did she already realise who I was yesterday? But if she is a V.D., as she claims, why then does she work against me? And what do the others do? Are they in league with Miss Bingley or not? I think that at least Col. Fitzwilliam must be working with her - he is after all her fiancé, and they went into the village together this morning when they were looking for me. If only I knew for sure whose side they are on, I could decide whether to tell them who I am or not. At the moment, I do not know what to say or do and I am starting to panic.

Miss Bingley and Mrs Bingley came shortly after I had been locked in and brought me pen and paper, my bible, my knitting bag, my shawl and a jug of water. They had quite clearly been in my room, searching my belongings, but they did not say anything about it and I did not ask them. Then they left again and I started writing this letter to you because I know not what to think.
I keep telling myself that if Miss Bingley is a V.D., she must be on my side, and I shall have nothing to fear from her as soon as she knows who I am - but if she is not, and I tell her - what then? And what is she going to do with me?
I have met all the others at Pemberley as well, and I try to convince myself that surely, they would not hurt me, but, Charlotte - I can tell you. I am afraid. It is not knowing what is going to happen that is the worst. I keep imagining dreadful things, and there is no one here who could distract me from my horrors. I feel so alone. If only you were here. If only Arnold could be here with me. He would know what to do. I miss him so much.

Charlotte, I know I should not even say this, but I want you to know - if anything happens to me, I want you to know. I love you, Charlotte. You are the best friend I ever had, and the best I could have wished for. You were always there for me, and for that, I am grateful to you beyond words. I want to thank you for all you have done for me, especially in the last few months. I came to you when I was desperate, and you helped me find myself again.

Thank you, Charlotte, for everything.

All my best wishes for you and your dear Collins, who was so incredibly kind to me when I turned up at your house unexpectedly.

Yours, Lizzy.

Items 44-47

Posted on Sunday, 20 April 2008

`It is tolerable enough, I suppose, but not well-written enough to tempt me. I am not in the mood to give praise to upstart authors of meaningless pieces.' - F.D.

44. Miss Mary Elizabeth King to Col. Quincey Montgomery Brandon

Dear Sir,

Begging your pardon, but you were asking if strangers were come to the Lamb and Haddock. There is a gentleman and a lady come here from London unexpectedly. The gentleman is a mylord and very rich, but also very friendly. They say they have come to visit a friend but they have not had any visitors yet.

Yours sincerely, Betsy King.

45. Col. Quincey Montgomery Brandon to Miss Mary Elizabeth King

Miss King,

Thank you very much for your note. You have done very well. Please keep me informed if anything else happens. You will find a guinea enclosed as compensation for your trouble.

Sincerely,

Q. Montgomery Brandon

46. Minutes of the 163rd Meeting of the Most Noble Society of Vampire-Hunters in Derbyshire (V.D.), formerly the Royal Society of Vampire-Hunters, on 17th May, 190-

Minutes taken by Mrs Harker Jonathan Bingley.

The meeting is opened with a prayer by Mijnheer Fitzwilliam Augustus van Darcy.
A roll-call is conducted by Mijnheer Fitzwilliam Augustus van Darcy.

Present are:
Miss Caroline Elizabeth Bingley
Mr Harker Jonathan Bingley
Mrs Harker Jonathan Bingley (Wilhelmina Jane)
Col. Quincey Montgomery Brandon
Mijnheer Fitzwilliam Augustus van Darcy, president
Col. The Hon. John S. Fitzwilliam

Absent is:

Rev. Arthur Ferrars - on guard duty.

F.A. van Darcy reports that during the morning examination, nothing was amiss in the coffin room and that no new traces or scratches have been found.
F.A. van Darcy reports that a letter from Miss Anne de Bourgh has arrived earlier today telling that nothing is amiss at Rosings.
W.J. Bingley reports that a search of a room was conducted earlier today and refers to the detailed report of the search.
C.E. Bingley proposes that formalities be sent to sub-worldly regions and that the topics to be discussed move on to more pressing matters.
F.A. van Darcy asks C.E. Bingley that she outline her concerns.
C.E. Bingley reports that she, J.S. Fitzwilliam and Q.M. Brandon followed a certain Miss Elizabeth Bennet (cf. report of the 162nd meeting) into the village of Lambton where she sought a conference with a certain Rev. Wickham Younge, who has publicly professed his enmity towards the Society in the past.
C.E. Bingley reports that she found Miss E.B. in the village church and accompanied her back to Pemberley, where Miss E.B. is currently locked up for safety reasons.
F.A. van Darcy asks whether there is anything in particular about the capture of Miss E.B. that C.E. Bingley wishes to discuss.
J.S. Fitzwilliam insinuates that C.E. Bingley did not relate everything about the capture of Miss E.B.
C.E. Bingley states that she is sorry she borrowed J.S. Fitzwilliam's horse without permission.
J.S. Fitzwilliam informs C.E. Bingley that it was not the taking of his horse that he objected to.
Q.M. Brandon remarks to J.S. Fitzwilliam that he should not argue over a trifling misunderstanding with his fiancée.
(It be here remarked that C.E. Bingley and J.S. Fitzwilliam became engaged to get married the previous night and received heart-felt congratulations from all of the Society.)

C.E. Bingley suggests that the discussion be brought back to the subject in question.
F.A. van Darcy asks C.E. Bingley to elaborate on her suggestion.
C.E. Bingley demands to be informed what F.A. van Darcy proposes to do next and whether he has received any additional information.
Q.M. Brandon informs the Society that he has just now received intelligence that a pair of strangers have taken lodgings in the ‘Lamb and Haddock.' They are as of yet unidentified, but have been described as gentle. Q.M. Brandon explains that it may very well have been in search of these personages that Miss E.B. left Pemberley in the early hours of the morning.
F.A. van Darcy agrees with C.E. Bingley's and Q.M. Brandon's assessment of the situation and proposes that he outline what the next step be.
The proposal is accepted.
F.A. van Darcy proposes that Miss E.B. be kept locked up and under close scrutiny while additional information about her person and her motivations is being sought (F.A. van Darcy here informs the society that he is awaiting a letter with crucial information very soon), but that Miss E.B. be allowed privileges.
F.A. van Darcy further suggests that all safety measures remain in place and that the danger coming from The Dreadful W. not be neglected.
The proposal is accepted.
The meeting is adjourned.

Signed Fitzwilliam Augustus van Darcy.
Signed Wilhelmina Jane Bingley.

47. From the journal of Miss Caroline Bingley

17th May, later --- After I had brought back Miss Bennet to Pemberley, things went excruciatingly slow. Of course I realised that nothing could be done but wait, but it was nevertheless highly unsatisfactory to sit around and do nothing, especially after the excitements of the morning.
After our meeting, Mina went downstairs to the kitchens to discuss today's meals with the cook, and the situation of Miss Bennet with the housekeeper. It is really good that she always insists on playing hostess when we are here - not so much for propriety's, but for practicality's sake. Darcy, as usual, retired to one of his studies - the laboratory, I presume - to continue brooding over one of his thick tomes in the hope that a sudden inspiration would hit him on what to do with the W. I should not speak so slightingly of him, he does great work, but I have seen him pouring over a book without so much as blinking, and it does border on the ridiculous. Colonel Brandon went upstairs to keep Arthur company (he is of course right, Arthur should not be alone for too long, and he needs to know we are all there for him, but I have no idea how to behave around him - what am I supposed to say when he never talks?) and I went to the upstairs library and selected a couple of books for Miss Bennet, which I brought her together with a plate of scones and a glass of milk. Darcy had of course not specified what he meant when he said that we ought to allow her privileges, but I thought that food and literature could not do much harm, and might even show her that we have no problem with her as a person, only with what she stands for.
She, however, did not show much gratitude, but then, to be fair, she did not show any other emotion either. She accepted what I had brought her with a nod of her head, then continued to stare out of the window. Only when I was about to leave the room again did she speak up.
‘Miss Bingley, can you not tell me -' she began, but I interrupted her at once.
‘Not now, Miss Bennet,' I said. ‘We will talk to you later.'

I locked her in again and went next door to see how Harker was doing. He was sitting in an armchair in front of the looking glass and watching Miss Bennet, who was still gazing out of the window.
‘Has anything happened?' I asked.
‘Nothing,' Harker said, ‘she has been standing like this since I came here.'
In that very moment, Miss Bennet suddenly moved and began pacing up and down the room with increasing speed.
‘It does not seem fair, does it?' Harker said.
‘What?' I asked.
‘To lock her up like that and not even tell her we are watching her,' Harker said, ‘I mean, it is one thing with the W., who must certainly be past all these concerns, but it is quite another with her. I do not know, but somehow it would be more decent if I sat in there with her. At least, that way she would know she is being watched.'
‘Maybe,' I said slowly. Harker had of course a point, but on the other hand, we both knew that it was highly dangerous to allow false sentimentalities to come between one and one's work, especially in cases such as this, where the lives of many were at risk.
‘But then, we may gain vital information from watching her. We may find out whether she intends to harm us or not and from that, she will benefit as well, in the end.'
Harker only nodded. Miss Bennet had ceased in her pacing and was standing by the window once more, her forehead pressed to the window.

‘Listen, Caroline,' Harker said, ‘I've been meaning to talk to you.'
He took my hand.
‘I want you to know that I fully support you in your choice, Caroline,' he said, ‘I will see to it that your financial affairs are settled soon so that you and John can be married as soon as you want. You must know that both Mina and I wish you all the best and think that you have found a wonderful husband.'
He pressed my hand and smiled at me and I could tell that he was indeed very happy for me.
‘Let us not talk about this now,' I said, ‘not when there are more pressing matters at hand.'
I left the room. I could not bear lying to Harker.

Once in my room, I had no idea what to do next. I suddenly realised that my fake engagement affected not only the Colonel and myself, but also the others. Harker and Mina were of course genuinely happy for me, but at the same time, Harker must be relieved that he could hand over the responsibility for my financial affairs and for my well-being to someone he could trust and respect as much as the Colonel. Not that Harker ever complains, but I know that having to settle the affairs of his older sister must be just as uncomfortable a situation for him as it is for me. Yet I cannot imagine him wanting me to marry someone who ---

Later --- I was interrupted, as I usually am when I try to sort out my thoughts, by a knock on my door. It was, as if he had guessed my restlessness, the Colonel.
‘I have been thinking,' he said and entered my room without further greeting.
‘So have I,' said I.
‘Really?' he said. ‘What have you been -'
‘No, you first,' I said, not yet willing to share my thoughts with him.
‘These strangers in the ‘Lamb and Haddock.' We must find out who they are and what they want. There is something fishy about them.'
‘You are right,' I said, ‘but what do you -'
‘So you agree with me?' he asked.
‘Yes, why do you -'
‘I was not sure whether I had perhaps become paranoid,' he said, ‘I came to ask your opinion.'
‘My opinion?' I asked.
‘Of course; you must know that I value your opinion - but we do not have the time to discuss that now. What are we going to do about these strangers?'

‘Well, I can hardly kidnap them as well,' I said.
‘No, I suppose not,' the Colonel said reflectively.
‘I was joking, Colonel,' I said. ‘You did not really want to abduct them, did you?'
‘No, of course not,' he said hastily. ‘I was only - but never mind.'
‘Do you have any other idea?' I said.
‘I suppose I could always try to talk to them incognito,' the Colonel said.
‘You would have to masquerade,' I said. ‘They know you in the village.'
‘That was what I was thinking,' he said, ‘but I wanted to run it before you.'
‘You would best act as a passing traveller,' I said, ‘a hiker or something similar.'
‘An ornithologist, I thought.' He pulled a pair of binoculars out of one of his pockets.
‘You have thought this through, haven't you?' I asked.
‘Yes, I suppose. I took this,' he said and pulled a book out of his other pocket. It was Birds of Britain and Where To Find Them, and by the looks of it, had been taken out of the downstairs library.
‘I am sure Darcy would not mind,' the Colonel said.
‘You will need different clothes, and maybe something about your hair -' I looked him over. ‘I suppose you brought nothing suitable with you?'
‘Alas, no,' the Colonel said, ‘I must have forgot my ornithological garb at home.'
‘I was being serious,' I said. ‘But we shall find something suitable in Darcy's wardrobe.'

We went over to Darcy's dressing-room and I pulled open the cupboards. I think the Colonel muttered something like, ‘David does not like me borrowing his clothes,' but I paid no heed to it. Then, the Colonel pulled out a grey suit that looked almost identical to the one he had been wearing the day before.
‘I could wear this, I suppose,' he said sceptically.
‘No, no,' I said. ‘Take the green one.'
I pulled out one of Darcy's uglier ensembles in lurid bottle-green. It was slightly creased from the long stay in the cupboard and at least five years behind the current fashion.
‘Perfect,' I said and handed it to the Colonel, then turned around.
‘What are you doing?' the Colonel asked.
‘Allowing you some privacy to change,' I said, ‘or did you think I want to goggle you all over?'
‘No, of course not.'
‘You can turn again,' he said after a short while. He was looking magnificently stupid. Darcy's trousers were just a little bit too short in the legs, the jacket was buttoned wrongly and set off his black waistcoat very nicely, and his shirt was all crumpled. His hair was on end and frizzy. I suddenly had an idea.
‘Sit down,' I said and pointed at the chair in front of Darcy's looking-glass. In a jar, I found that horribly smelly wax that Darcy uses to flatten his hair when he is feeling really smug.
‘Keep still,' I said and took a liberal amount of the wax, then applied it to the Colonel's head. My hands must have been rather cold, because he shivered, but I did not allow that to irritate me. It was weird, rubbing that wax into his hair; I realised I had never touched him before, apart from the incident last night, of course. The result, however, was just as I had hoped. The Colonel's head now looked like a veritable bird's nest - how very fitting for an ornithologist.

‘How do I look?' he asked.
‘Very lovable,' I said, ‘but you will need a hat.'
I found a chequered tweed cap in Darcy's cupboard and handed it to the Colonel. It clashed wonderfully with the suit.
‘Something is still missing,' I said. I glanced him up and down and finally realised what it was.
‘Take these,' I said and handed him my spectacles.
‘But you need -'
‘I have another pair in my room,' I said. ‘Good luck, Colonel.'
‘John,' he muttered.
‘What?'
‘My name is John, Caroline.' He took my hands. ‘Thank you for everything. Take care, Caroline.'
He had kissed my hair and was gone before I could say anything.
I wondered what I would have said if he had given me the time. Surely I could not have called him John?

A look on my watch told me that it was already past lunch-time. I had promised Mina that I should join her during her watch at the looking-glass after lunch so I hurried downstairs, where I found Mina sitting in Harker's armchair with a plate of cold meat.
‘Did anything happen?' I asked. ‘Did she do anything?'
‘Nothing,' Mina said, ‘Harker says that she has been staring out of the window, although sometimes she paces the room or picks up one of the books.'
Miss Bennet had indeed just walked over to the sofa and picked up one of the novels I had brought her.
‘Poor thing,' Mina said while Miss Bennet leafed through the pages. ‘She must feel dreadful, being locked up by strangers.'
‘Mina, she tried to spy on us.'
‘I know,' Mina replied, ‘but I really liked her. I feel sorry that it had to come to this. We might have become friends otherwise.'
I only nodded; I had thought the same. We continued in silence for most of the afternoon. Neither of us, it seemed, was inclined to talk much. Mina had brought along a blouse she was embroidering and was counting stitches under her breath; I tried myself on one of the endless Russian novels from Darcy's library, but without much success, as I could not really focus on it. Miss Bennet, meanwhile, continued in her restless behaviour. Finally, when the sun was already setting, she sat down and took out the unfinished scarf from her knitting bag. Mina, having finished one sleeve, turned her work over and looked up.

‘Did you see that?' she suddenly said.
‘What?'
‘The way she is holding the needle,' Mina pointed out.
‘Yes, with her hand,' I said. ‘How unconventional.'
‘She is knitting the continental way,' Mina said. ‘She cannot be English.'
‘What?' I asked, completely taken aback.
‘No Englishwoman would ever hold a needle like that,' Mina said dignifiedly. ‘It is very impractical.'
‘So you infer that she is a foreigner from the way she is knitting?' I repeated, hoping to point out how ridiculous her idea was.
‘Exactly,' Mina replied. ‘We must inform Darcy at once.'
She dashed out of the room and I followed her; I had to tell Darcy not to be too rash after hearing Mina. I found them in the laboratory, where Darcy was sitting behind his desk, holding a slip of paper in his hands.

‘Miss Bennet is from the continent,' Mina was saying, ‘I just -'
‘I know she is,' Darcy said, ‘I have just learned it.'
‘What?' I asked.
Darcy, however, did not listen to me, but was already climbing the stairs.
‘Where are you going?' I asked.
‘Upstairs,' he said curtly. ‘To ask Miss Benwick why she never told me.'
‘Told him what?' I mouthed to Mina.
‘No idea,' she mouthed back, while we followed Darcy back to the small drawing room.

Nothing could have prepared me for the sight that greeted Mina and me when we finally reached the drawing room.
Miss Bennet had pressed Darcy against the wall and was pointing a wooden stake directly at his heart.
‘Mrs Bingley, Miss Bingley,' she said upon seeing us. ‘Did you know there is a vampire in the house?'
‘Verena Dohnanyi,' Darcy croaked. ‘I should have known.'

Items 48-51

Posted on Sunday, 27 April 2008

‘Read this? Whatever for?' - Sir W.E.

48. Miss Elizabeth Bennet (Verena Dohnanyi) to Charlotte Collins, Lady Metcalfe

Dearest Charlotte,

Things here have taken such an unexpected turn that I can hardly explain them; I shall, however, try to.

As you know, I was back at Pemberley and had been locked up in the small drawing-room (as they call it) without any further explanation. Naturally, I was panicking. I had no idea what would happen next or how I should act. So many questions went through my head that I became rather restless and at the same time so desperately wanted to think about it all. Most of the day, I think, I spent pacing the room or looking out of the window. They had given me food, but I did not feel hungry and hardly touched it.
Finally, when the sun was already setting, I simply had to occupy myself in some way or another. I had tried to read a book - Miss Bingley had brought me some - but I could not really focus on the words before me. Luckily, however, they had also given me my knitting bag. I knew I would probably have to undo most of the lace afterwards, but I nevertheless picked up my cashmere scarf. To my surprise, beginning to knit did calm me, just as my grandma Dohnanyi had always said.

The sun disappeared behind the trees outside and I realised I had already worked two rows without noticing it. I was about to turn the scarf over again when suddenly -

‘Good evening, Miss,' a voice behind me said, although there was no one behind me in the reflection in the looking glass. I turned around.
‘Mr Darcy,' I said, ‘what are you -'
In the same moment, I realised that it was not Mr Darcy after all. The height and the hair colour were the same, but the shoulders were slightly broader, the features more even and the eyes were a different colour.
‘I do not think we have met before,' he said in his deep, smooth voice (richer and more melodious than Mr Darcy's, I now noticed), ‘but it is a pleasure nevertheless.'
He took my hand with his cold one and at last I understood what I should have seen at once.

‘Get away from me, vampire,' I hissed and reached for my bag, grabbing my necklace with the other hand.
‘You are quite pretty,' the vampire said. ‘But then, Fitzwilliam always had a soft spot for redheads.'
‘Leave me alone,' I said and took a step back. ‘Commendo te in profundis!‘
‘Your little magic tricks will not work, I am afraid,' he said pleasantly, taking another step in my direction, upon which I stepped back again. ‘The other one was stubborn at first as well, but she soon saw reason.'
‘Mitto te ex domo,' I muttered, ‘prohibeo tibi - ‘

‘Doing it the continental way, are you?' he said. ‘That is not going to help you. Believe me, I am far more powerful than you. I know tricks you could not even fathom -'
The door opened behind me and I spun around. There he was again, standing in the door, faster than light. This time, however, I had been able to grab my stake and, pointing it at his heart, I pushed him against the wall. In my mind, I was going over the procedure Arnold had taught me when Mrs and Miss Bingley appeared in the corridor, panting.

‘Did you know there is a vampire in this house?' I asked grimly.
‘Verena Dohnanyi,' the vampire suddenly said. ‘I should have known.'
I was stunned.
‘Of course there is a vampire in this house,' Miss Bingley shrieked. ‘He is its keeper!'
And suddenly I realised that this time, it was Mr Darcy.
‘Could you move away the stake?' he said. ‘I am a bit ticklish.'
The vampire, meanwhile, was gone.

49. Misses Linda and Katherine Annesley to Mijnheer Fitzwilliam Augustus van Darcy

sir stop no elizabeth alexandra bennet born 1880 to 1890 found stop took the liberty to examine all entries stop found elizabeth alexandra bennet born 1 may 1853 longbourn hertfordshire stop married austrian citizen heinrich dohnanyi 10 october 1875 stop future fate unknown stop yours sincerely stop linda and katherine annesley

50. From the journal of Miss Caroline Bingley (continued)

‘Of course there is a vampire in this house,' I said, ‘he is its keeper.'
‘Would you remove the stake,' Darcy panted,' I am a bit ticklish.'
(Which was, of course, even funnier because he spoke in earnest. Darcy would never joke about stakes.)
Miss Bennet at last removed the stake from Darcy's chest and stepped back.
‘You are Verena Dohnanyi, are you not?' Darcy asked. ‘Arnold Dohnanyi's sister?'
‘How did you -' Miss Bennet - or Miss Dohnanyi, as I should perhaps say - said, then broke off and said instead, ‘where did the vampire go?'
‘The vampire is in its coffin,' Darcy said proudly, ‘I locked it in there.'
‘No, he is not!' Miss Bennet - Miss Dohnanyi - shrieked. ‘He was here just a minute ago. I saw him, he looked just like you!'
‘He? Here?' Darcy said.
‘If I tell you so -'
‘Upstairs!' Darcy shouted. ‘At once! And take that stake of yours, Fraeulein Dohnanyi!'

We rushed up the stairs, Mina calling for Harker, who soon joined us, and reached the coffin room out of breath. Arthur and Col. Brandon were playing chess again and looked at us in shock.
‘Where is he?' Darcy said. ‘Where did he go?'
‘Who?' they both asked in unison.
‘He! The vampire!'
‘Darcy, are you sure -' Col. Brandon began.
‘Where is Wolfgang?' Darcy shouted.
Without waiting for an answer, he continued, ‘Give me that key, Brandon, and open the ruddy door!'
The door being opened, he hastily dipped his hand into the bowl, crossed himself and rushed inside, the rest of us hard on his heels. Darcy broke open the coffin.
‘How on earth did he -' he muttered.
‘He flew,' a voice behind us said.

51. Miss Elizabeth Bennet (Verena Dohnanyi) to Charlotte Collins, Lady Metcalfe (continued)

‘You are Verena Dohnanyi, are you not? Arnold's sister?' Mr Darcy asked.
I was a bit astonished how he could know that, but then realised that this was not the moment for such revelations.
‘Where did the vampire go?' I asked.
It took a moment for Mr Darcy to understand what I was trying to tell him, but then he shouted ‘Upstairs!' and sprinted out of the room before any one of us could say anything else.
We ran upstairs, in the direction of the secret room I had discovered last night. Mrs Bingley kept shouting ‘Harker!' until her husband stormed out of one of the rooms we passed. Inside the tower room, we interrupted Mr Ferrars and Col. Brandon, who were playing chess. Mr Darcy kept demanding that they tell him where a certain ‘Wolfgang' had gone, but apparently, they did not understand what he meant. He then opened the door with the three silver bolts which I had noticed the night before and entered the room behind it. I followed him, very curious about its contents.

I must say that I have seldom seen a room built more to the purpose than this. It was perfect in every respect - apart from the fact that somehow, the vampire had managed to get out of it. It was obvious what this room was meant to be. The window were arranged such that sunlight would shine in at any time of the day; additionally, panels had been let into the ceiling so that the room must be lit from dawn till dusk, if I am not mistaken. Of course, all these openings were secured by various means such as silver crucifixes et al. - I am sure I need not describe every single item to you. Right in the middle of the room there was a grand silver coffin which was decorated over and over with the same symbols as various other items in this oldest wing of the house.

Now, however, I recognised them. It was the Blacque-Adair family crest of course. In this moment I understood that Pemberley must be the mysterious mansion in Derbyshire where the V.D. reside! Pemberley had been the place I had always longed for, and I had not even realised it! Which meant, of course, that Mr Darcy must be the last of the Blacque-Adair, if the rumours were true - but there was no time for such musings just then, for Mr Darcy was just removing the lid of the coffin.
‘How on earth did he -' he muttered.

I could see what he meant. Inside the coffin lay the vampire I had seen downstairs, with a stake through his heart. In its death-like state, with its eyes closed, it looked even more like Mr Darcy than when it pretended to be alive.

‘He flew,' Col. Fitzwilliam said. I had not noticed him entering the room, but he must have followed us. He was looking very peculiar, wearing what was hopefully someone else's suit and Miss Bingley's spectacles, and having arranged his hair in a careful mess. His fiancée gave a shriek and threw her arms around his neck. What exactly she sobbed into his shoulder was not audible, but apparently she had been worried that the vampire might have come after him.
‘What do you mean, he flew?' Mr Darcy asked. ‘He could not have flown out of these windows or in through them.'
‘I saw him,' said Col. Fitzwilliam, who was stroking Miss Bingley's hair. ‘I saw him flying up to the windows of the room below this and in through them.'
‘He could not have -' Mr Darcy said, but I had noticed something.
‘The mice,' I muttered.
Mr Darcy turned around. ‘Fraeulein Dohnanyi?' he said sharply.
‘The mice,' I said again, ‘do you see the mice?'

Inside the coffin, half hidden by the vampire's robes, lay about a dozen dead mice in various states of decay and several others ran around, still alive, but - no, Charlotte, I cannot put it to paper. Suffice it to say that it was gross beyond imagination. Mrs Bingley put a hand to her mouth and turned away, Mr Bingley made a sort of retching noise and Miss Bingley only gave it a short glance before turning away again.

‘This is how he kept strong,' Mr Darcy said with unmingled disgust. ‘Despicable.'
‘If mice can get inside the room, he can get out,' I said, turning away from the coffin.
Mr Darcy looked sceptical.
‘The floor,' I said. ‘You did not seal the floor, did you?'
‘He can turn into fog,' Mr Darcy mumbled.
‘Exactly.'
‘And what do we do know?' Mrs Bingley asked.
‘We stay here, of course, and watch it,' Mr Darcy said shortly.
‘Who is we?' asked Miss Bingley. ‘And where is here?'
‘All of us. In here,' said Mr Darcy, ‘and Fraeulein Dohnanyi can tell us how the daughter of an Imperial and Royal Vampire Hunter ended up in Derbyshire.'

Commendo te in profundis - I command you into the depths.
Mitto te ex domo - I send you out of the house.
Prohibeo tibi - - I forbid you -.

Items 52-54

Posted on Sunday, 25 May 2008

‘I need not read this; I feel like death already.' - M.M.

52. From the journal of Wilhelmina Jane Bingley

Note: Part of this entry was cut by Mrs Bingley - Lina Hamilton.

17th May - [...] For a moment, there was a stunned silence. Then I said, ‘What do you mean, we stay in this room, Darcy? We cannot stay here. There is a vampire in here!'
‘What else should we do?' asked Miss Bennet - Miss Dohnanyi I suppose we must call her now. ‘We cannot leave him alone now and we are safest in a group.'
Darcy looked at her with an expression I have rarely ever seen in his face. It was almost as if he admired her. (Which in itself is perfectly understandable of course - after I heard her tale tonight I can hardly doubt that Miss Dohnanyi is a most courageous and admirable girl - but Darcy never betrays any emotion, particularly not after that thing attacked Nancy - not that I blame Darcy, of course, it was the most horrible incident any man could suffer.)
‘Fraeulein Dohnanyi,' Darcy finally said, ‘it is an honour to have you here.'
He took her hand and shook it - most unusual for Darcy indeed, but I presume the stress of the last years is finally taking its toll.

‘I say, Darcy' said John suddenly, ‘seeing that you and Miss, err, Dohnanyi are so amazingly agreed about what is to be done, and why, would you mind terribly informing us about your thoughts?'
It was of course a bit unfair of John to be so harsh with Darcy, but I cannot blame him. I guess we were all a bit under the weather, and John of course had just become engaged. He was still wearing Caroline's glasses, why, I could not fathom, and one of Darcy's nice tweed suits, and had only just returned from an expedition of some kind. I had no idea where he had been, but Caroline had been very relieved to see him return unharmed.
‘What?' Darcy now said, much more his usual self, to my relief.
‘Miss - Dohnanyi,' said Caroline, sounding exasperated (not that I can blame her), to Miss Bennet, ‘would you be so kind as to inform us about the plan you and Mr Darcy seem to have agreed upon telepathically, and what exactly it incorporates?'
‘We have to stay here,' Miss Bennet said quietly. ‘Mr Darcy is right. We cannot leave the vampire here alone and the more we are, the safer we shall be, should he try to do anything again. Also, I am sure that if we split up, you would only worry about each other and thus, it will work best if we are all together.
Darcy still stared at Miss Bennet with something akin to amazement in his gaze and finally said, ‘Yes, that is what I said.'

I swallowed hard. I knew that Darcy and Miss Bennet were right, but nevertheless, the prospect of spending the whole night in the same room as the thing in the coffin was none too appealing to me. I was only glad that Harker was with me and was now squeezing my hand in support, as if he had sensed my unease, or read it from my face. I saw Caroline whisper something in John's ear. When he replied in the same manner, she stepped away, as if she had just then realised he still had his arm around her shoulder and was holding her close.
‘You are right,' Caroline said. ‘The Colonel and I will stay.'
Harker placed his free hand very softly on my shoulder, close to my neck, and I nodded in agreement.
‘So will Harker and I,' I said.
‘And I, of course,' said Col. Brandon, ‘there can be no doubt about that.'
‘Whatever it takes, I will remain here,' Arthur said. ‘Alone, if need be.'
‘It will not come to that,' said Miss Bennet, and for the first time that evening, she truly smiled. ‘I suggest that we get more chairs, warmer clothing, a couple of blanket and a large can of coffee. Also all the garlic that can be spared, and hymn books, if you have them. I believe we may need them.'
‘How do you - ‘ Harker began, but then stopped; it was obviously not the time for such questions. Miss Bennet, however, had understood what Harker had wanted to say, and her smile faded. She suddenly looked weary and very tired.
‘How I know this, Mr Bingley?' There was a sadness both in her tone and in her expression that explained her weary looks. ‘This is not the first time I have spent a night in such a fashion.'

‘We split into pairs,' Darcy suddenly said and stepped closer to Miss Bennet, ‘and then four of us go downstairs and collect their belongings while the other four wait. Then we switch. Mina and Harker go first with Arthur and Brandon, then Fitzwilliam and Caroline with Fraeulein Dohnanyi and me. The gentlemen all bring a chair for themselves upstairs, the ladies can use the armchairs. Do not, under any circumstance, part from your partner until you have come back here. Are we understood?'
We all nodded and Harker and I left the room together with Arthur and Col. Brandon. As we went, I saw Darcy taking Miss Bennet's hand and asking her something. I wondered about the sudden change in Darcy's behaviour. Surely it could not be what it looked like from the outside?

53. Verena Elizabeth Dohnanyi to Charlotte Collins, Lady Metcalfe (continued)

Mr Darcy took one step closer towards me and took my hand.
‘You know what we are, do you not?' he said, very softly, in German.
Miss Bingley and Col. Fitzwilliam stood a little away from us, conversing in hushed voices as well, and the other four had gone downstairs to retrieve some items after it had been decided that we should all spend the night upstairs in the Vampire's chambers.
‘Yes, I know who you are,' I answered. Even though it was my mother tongue, the words felt strange on my tongue after all those months during which I had repressed any urge to speak or even think in German.
‘I must apologise for locking you up,' Mr Darcy continued. ‘Are you still angry with us?'
I shook my head.
‘No,' I said truthfully. ‘It was a beastly thing to do, but I know you had your reasons, just as I had mine to conceal my identity from you. These are horrible times that force us to act thus.'
‘Sie sind eine bewundernswerte Frau, Verena,' Mr Darcy muttered, then hastily retreated, as if he had done something wrong, and exchanged a few words with Miss Bingley and his cousin, leaving me confused as to what he meant.

Some time later - the sun had now fully set and we had lit the chamber with countless candles - we were all settled in armchairs around the fireplace in the ante-chamber, the vampire's coffin in full view to Mr Darcy, Col. Fitzwilliam and Miss Bingley. We had brought blankets and hot coffee from downstairs to warm us up, and were huddled as close as possible to the cracking fire.
‘Fraeulein Dohnanyi, dare I ask of you -' said Mr Darcy, now once more in English, ‘would it be too much to ask of you to tell us how you happened to come here to Derbyshire, of all places? The last I heard of you was that you and your brother were living in Vienna, furthering the work of your wonderful parents.'

My first impulse was to refuse his request. I did not want to share again what had happened, and not with people who, though I respected them, I but scarcely knew. Something, however, told me that I was obliged to at least inform them at least briefly of what had happened if I wanted to earn their trust. I had learnt from Mr Darcy that both Col. Fitzwilliam and Col. Brandon had been acquainted with Arnold when he was still working for the Ministry and I realised that I owed them, as his friends, the truth about how he died. Thus I began, intending to only tell them those facts they needed to know, but once I had started, it was difficult to stop, and soon I found myself telling them how I had had to leave school, and why, and all that had happened in Vienna during those years when I was living there with Arnold.

You know how I had not shared this story with anyone before, apart from you, and I had not known what a relief it would be to tell this group - not that I mean to say it was no relief to tell you - it was an immense one - but it was a different thing altogether to be able to finally speak with other Vampire Hunters again, with people who had seen and experienced those things I was talking about, which is something I would not wish upon you for the world.
You know how I always had to be very careful at your house, Charlotte, because even though you and Collins knew who I was and what I was, your many friends and guests knew not and should not know, as we agreed. Here, in the cold, candlelit ante-chamber at Pemberley, for the first time in months - nay, years - I felt I could let my guard down and finally be myself again.

54. Verena's Tale (Part I)

Note: We had to edit out several biographical details of Miss Dohnanyi's life, and were forced to keep the dates rather vague. - Lina Hamilton

As you very well know by now, my name is Verena Elizabeth Dohnanyi, and I am an Austrian citizen. I was born in Hungary, in Baranya, to be exact. My father's family owned a house there, which also gave the little village near it its name - Longarth. His name - my father's - was Heinrich Dohnanyi. His forefathers were amongst Carpathia's vampire-hunters of old. Through his mother, he was descended from an old Prussian family who had a similar tradition. My grandmother's maiden name, Mr Darcy? Barbara Carthoff-Jorck. But I am sure you knew that before.
You see that my father's fate was practically sealed from the day he was born, if you believe in these things. My grandfather died very young and thus my father was left not only with his mother, Longarth House and the village to take care of, but also my grandfather's more secret responsibilities with the government in Vienna. In the course of his duty, he came to England as well. The spring of 1875 brought him to Meryton in Hertfordshire, a tiny, unimportant village, where he and two of his comrades met up with a delegation from the R.V.D. - yes, of course I know what the R.V.D. was, Mr Darcy. How could you presume otherwise, knowing whose daughter I am?
They disguised as a scouting unit from a regiment nearby and were indeed successful in several operations in the neighbourhood - but that is a wholly different matter and you can probably read it up in your archives, if they are as well-kept as rumour has it.
In Hertfordshire, my father also met my mother. She was not involved in his work; she had nothing to do with it. She was just a girl he met at a dance. Her name? Elizabeth Alexandra Bennet. Yes, I assumed my mother's name when I came to England. I had reason not to use my own name, as you will soon see. To cut a long story short, my father and mother fell in love very quickly and by Midsummer, my father had asked my mother to marry him and come back with him to Longarth. My mother was very much in love with my father, and dearly wanted to marry him, but she knew not whether she would be able to bear leaving all her family and friends behind. My father had been honest with her when he proposed to her and had told her exactly what he was doing and how dangerous his life was, which also made her afraid of what might happen to her. In the end, however, she accepted him and they were married in October that year - I see you already knew that.
My father's job in England being finished, they went back to Baranya in early 1876 and several months later, my brother was born. You all seem to know who he was, so I need hardly tell you what a wonderful brother he was to me, who was several years his junior - yes, he is dead, Col. Fitzwilliam. Those pictures you saw - I need not ask how you came by them, but it hardly matters now, I dare say - they were real.
I grew up very sheltered and I knew I was loved by my family. Outside of Longarth, however, the times were slowly changing, little though I knew it then. My mother and father were the first to notice it. My mother had by then become very much involved with my father's work, to the point where she actively assisted him.

In 1889, the Emperor's son and the Baroness Vetsera died under mysterious circumstances, as you undoubtedly know, and after this, the Empire was not the same anymore. Nothing was ever proven - as far as I know, no investigation ever took place, at least none that was ever officially acknowledged - but from early on, it was rumoured that Vampire Hunters were involved in the Prince's and the Baroness's death. When these rumours surfaced and finally reached the Imperial Family, the Emperor's attitude towards the Vampire Hunters, who were, as you know, under his direct command, worsened and he grew less and less likely to support their actions. You must be aware of what followed. In 1898, the Empress herself was killed. A mad assassin was publicly blamed, but of course you know what really happened. That the Vampire Hunters had, for the second time, failed to rescue a member of the Imperial Family naturally caused a scandal amongst those who were informed or who at least thought so. Few realise where the blame truly lies, but it will come as little surprise to you when I tell you that the whole affair was a set-up. My brother was by that time working in Vienna and he had close contacts to several members of the Cabinet, because he was, as you know, an undersecretary at the Ministry of War. He had received intelligence from a trustworthy source and, although he could not prove it, knew who had orchestrated the murder of Empress Elizabeth. [Here, Fraeulein Dohnanyi names a certain person and briefly explains some circumstances.] No, I know my brother never told you about his suspicions, Col. Fitzwilliam. He had no proof, you see, and he was not sure whether he could trust you. Believe me, he later regretted this course of action, but at the time, it seemed most prudent to him. No, he did not tell me your names - in that case, I should probably have realised sooner who you were - he only said that he ought to have confided in his English partners, because even though he had no proof, the three of you might have been able to do something.

Well, you know what came next. The two of you were ordered back to England and Arnold lost his post not much later. [The certain person] had begun to suspect that Arnold knew something and accused him of some thing or other. In the same manner, Vampire Hunters all over the country were treated. Not much later, my mother and father were arrested under some pretence and imprisoned, just as many of my father's old friends - all, still, to protect [the certain person's] reputation, because as time passed, more and more doubts about the whole affair came up among the circles of the Vampire Hunters. Arnold was to be arrested as well, but he was tipped off and was able to leave the country the night before. Where he went?
No, he did not go to England to seek your help, although he certainly thought about it. He went north, to Koenigsberg, for that was where I was.

Fact and Fiction in this chapter:

The county of Baranya did exist in the old Kingdom of Hungary, but the village of Longarth is purely fictional, as are both the families of the Dohnanyis and the Carthoff-Jorcks, even though other families who really existed carried similar names.
The Austrian Crown Prince Rudolph and the Baroness Mary Vetsera did die under mysterious circumstances in January 1889 and the Empress Elisabeth was assassinated in 1898. What tales I have spun around their deaths are of course purely fictional.

Sie sind eine bewundernswerte Frau translates to You are an admirable woman.

Continued In Next Section