Free The Matters at Mansfield: (Or, the Crawford Affair) (Mr. & Mrs. Darcy Mysteries) by Carrie Bebris Page B

husband, and I would read it immediately.”
    He looked up from his cake long enough to nod. “Of course.”
    She left the drawing room but had no sooner closed the door behind her than it opened.
    “Where are you going with that?” Lady Catherine joined her in the hallway, leaving the door slightly ajar. “That letter contains news of Anne, and I will not be kept waiting to learn it.”
    “What about his lordship? Would you leave your guest sitting by himself?”
    “The old fool is too occupied with his cake to miss me. What does it say?”
    Elizabeth broke the seal and read the opening sentences. Mr. and Mrs. Crawford would not arrive at Riveton today. Or tomorrow. Or next week.
    “There has been an accident.”
    “An accident?” Lady Catherine attempted to take the letter for herself. “Let me see that! What sort of accident? Is Anne injured?”
    Elizabeth scanned the lines as best she could while fending off Darcy’s aunt. “A carriage accident . . . The mishap occurred when they stopped at an inn. Just as Anne was alighting, one of the horses suddenly reared and so jostled the chaise that she lost her balance. She fell to the ground and the carriage wheel rolled over her leg. . . . The apothecary advises she not be moved.”
    “Was no one handing her out? Where was that husband of hers? Does he neglect her already?”
    She scanned further. “Mr. Crawford was indeed assisting her from the vehicle, and blames himself for not having been able to somehow prevent the accident.”
    “The scoundrel could have prevented it by not abducting her to Gretna Green in the first place. That gentleman now has even more to answer for. And an apothecary? Has no one summoned a real physician? Where is this inn?”
    “Mansfield.”
    “Nottinghamshire? Whatever are they doing there?”
    “No, a small village in Northamptonshire. According to Darcy, rain forced a detour from the main road. They lodge at the Ox and Bull.”
    “This whole situation is cock and bull. It is time—long past time—that Mr. Henry Crawford was held accountable for it. I will brook no further delay.”
    “You would have him leave his wife in her present condition to continue here?”
    “No, I want him to remain precisely where he is. I am going to Mansfield. Today.”
    Today suited Elizabeth just fine. The sooner Lady Catherine departed, the sooner Elizabeth would be left in peace. “Would you like me to convey your excuses to Lord Sennex?” she offered.
    “No, I want you to oversee your own preparations for departure. You are accompanying me.”

Nine
To anything like a permanence of abode, or limitation of society, Henry Crawford had, unluckily, a great dislike .
—Mansfield Park

    T he Ox and Bull had served as Mansfield’s only inn for seven generations. What began as a small public house had over the years expanded into a conglomerate of rooms haphazardly added as demand justified and profit allowed. The dining room had been twice enlarged to accommodate the numerous villagers who dined there; in addition, the inn now boasted eight private bedchambers, a small parlor, a communal sleeping room for servants, and stables that also functioned as the local livery. The Bull, as its regular patrons called it, sprawled rather than sat on the main road of the modest village, across the green from the church, whose tall, straight spire chided its neighbor for undisciplined deportment.
    Despite the inn’s rogue architecture, it was a respectable establishment. So its proprietors, Mr. and Mrs. Gower, informed Darcy and his companions. Thrice.
    Anne’s accident upon their arrival brought the innkeeper and his wife outside immediately. All attention was on the injured lady. Henry bent over Anne, attempting to calm her in a quiet voice as Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Mr. Gower worked with the postilion and the ostler to remove the carriage wheel from atop Anne’s leg without causing her further harm. Mrs. Gower hurried off to fetch the