Page 10 of Conundrums & Coincidences

“You most certainly may not.” The attorney passed the hat to her.

“How unjust it is that the others have a surname closer to the beginning of the alphabet than mine.” Rather sulkily, she grabbed the last piece of paper and unfolded it. From the corner of his eye, Darcy noticed her moving it back and forth in front of her face. Has she—in addition to vacancy of mind and incapacity for thinking—poor eyesight?

Meanwhile, the housekeeper had discreetly drawn close to Mr Monroe and whispered a few words before going to stand by the parlour door.

“May I have your attention again, everyone,” said the host. “Mr Darcy, whenever you are ready, Mrs Vincent will show you to your bedchamber. Miss Bennet has settled in already, and, because they have stayed here before, the others have been assigned their customary rooms. Also, Mrs Vincent has reminded me that, for those who desire it, a midday repast soon will be placed on the sideboard here in the parlour. Dinner will be served at six o’clock in the formal dining room, so please return here a quarter of an hour prior. Other than that, the five of you are at liberty to enjoy the manor and its demesne and, hopefully, move forwards in the tournament. Remember, whenever you believe you have achieved success with a problem, bring it to me for verification. At that point, you may proceed with your next one. As you set off to achieve your goal, I wish you all the best of luck.” Mr Monroe collected his belongings, bowed, and left the room.

Mr Fordham stretched and sauntered to the far side of the parlour, where he took up residence, supine, upon a plush pink sofa.

“Well, ladies,” said Miss Rigby, “may I persuade you both to take a turn about the gardens? The flora is delightful, and a walk will be refreshing after sitting here for such a duration.” She glanced at Mr Fordham, but he appeared fast asleep. “Mr Darcy and Mr Hadley, would you care to join us?” The latter agreed with alacrity.

Darcy recalled an evening at Netherfield when Miss Bingley had invited Miss Eliza Bennet—as she called her—to take a turn about the room. He truly had believed the more enticing lady had been flirting with him, and he had reciprocated. Or so he had thought. Utter idiot. He startled when he heard his name being spoken.

“Mr Darcy and I shall be unable to join you, Miss Rigby. He has agreed to help me with this.” Miss Kensett waved her set of instructions at the chaperon.

When the other two ladies stood, Darcy and Mr Hadley jumped to their feet.

“I shall be delighted to see the gardens and enjoy some exercise,” said Elizabeth. “Sweet vernal freshness has given way to the summery scents of newly mown grass, lilacs, mint, and Shakespeare’s ‘luscious woodbine’. Physical activity out of doors often helps one arrive at a solution to a problem, and I do have quite a perplexing one now.” Gathering her papers, she turned to Miss Rigby and Mr Hadley. “Shall we?”

The chaperon frowned at Miss Kensett before going to speak to the housekeeper, who still stood by the door. Mrs Vincent then occupied the chair vacated by Miss Rigby. “I shall just wait here until you are ready to be shown to your room, Mr Darcy.” The housekeeper gave him a pointed look while withdrawing some sort of fabric and a needle from a pocket in the folds of her skirt. Lowering her eyes, she set about her work.

Darcy’s gaze lingered on the doorway even after Elizabeth, arm in arm with Mr Hadley, had gone from sight.

“Now then,” said Miss Kensett, demanding his attention, “make this silly little game comprehensible to me.”

“As you wish, madam. Simply put, there will be a series of enigmas, riddles, and such for you to ponder and solve. Doing so is only part of the task. When you solve a puzzle, you must then use information gleaned from it to locate your next puzzle. Each is unique. So there is no point in spying on another participant because they will be seeking something completely different from you…at least until the end. The ultimate conundrum will be the same for all remaining contestants. And that final answer will lead to the prize—the deed to Oakwood Manor and the key to Miss Armstrong’s money box.”

“So, whoever finds that final hiding spot will inherit all, correct?” When Darcy answered in the affirmative, Miss Kensett heaved a gusty sigh. “Far too much work! This competition is utterly ridiculous and quite beneath me. I should just be given the deed without further nonsense. My grandmother, may God rest her soul, was Miss Armstrong’s dearest friend.”

“Nevertheless, this was Miss Armstrong’s scheme, as specified in her will, and we must persevere. With any luck, someone will solve all the puzzles in one day and locate the deed. In which case, the tournament will end, and we each may go our own merry way.”

Miss Kensett scowled at her creased paper. “But what does this mean?” She turned the puzzle towards Darcy, who looked away. “I require assistance,” she whinged. “Will you not help me?” She moved closer and, when he glanced over, fluttered her lashes at him again.

He held back from enquiring whether she had some sort of irritant in her eye. As handsome as she was, the lady was becoming an annoyance. I wager Elizabeth is out there using her incomparable ingenuity to find the answer to her poser. At the mere thought of her, another wave of heartbreak crashed into him.

Maids and footmen entered the room and unobtrusively set out the repast, but food had held little interest for Darcy since Elizabeth’s refusal of his offer.

Miss Kensett awaited an answer, so he patiently said, “You must work through that riddle yourself. Mr Monroe said the puzzles have been tailored so all contestants have a fair chance of winning.”

“But if you read it aloud to me”—she placed her hand upon his sleeve—“I might better grasp the phrasing.”

Grasp, indeed. Darcy freed his arm from her restraint. “According to the rules, madam, there can be no collaboration. Nor can a beneficiary impede another.”

“Is that not what you are doing at this very moment—impeding me?” Pressing her lips together, she shifted her body away from his. “Very well. I shall ask that darling Mr Hadley to help me. Or…I simply shall search this entire house, top to bottom, and find the deed without all the fuss and bother of working on foolish riddles.”

Darcy shook his head. “I very much doubt Mr Hadley will violate the rules. And if it is proved that a beneficiary has been cheating, they will be eliminated from the tournament. Also, there is little point in searching without solving puzzles. According to Mr Monroe, the prize is extremely well hidden and its whereabouts known by only him.”

Despite being ever the gentleman, Darcy was losing his patience with Miss Kensett. Her belief that she was inherently deserving of privileges and special treatment was beyond the pale. Furthermore, he was eager to begin working on his own conundrums—the one in his breast pocket and Elizabeth’s presence.

“I know what I shall do.” Miss Kensett held her head high. “My brother is fascinated by word games. He absolutely adores them beyond expression.”

“May I remind you that, barring an emergency or a disqualification, beneficiaries are to remain at Oakwood with no external communication until this time next week. Writing to your brother is not permitted.”

“Yes, but books have been published on the subject.” She gave him a superior smile. “And there is a library just across the vestibule.”

Keeping his countenance extremely well, Darcy asked whether she had been listening when Mr Monroe told them they would find no collections there by Peregrine Puzzlebrains, Peter Puzzlewit, or their ilk. “All such material has been temporarily removed. Now, Miss Kensett, if you will excuse me, I shall remove myself.”

He stood and bowed to her. “Oh, by the bye, in case you have not remembered, there are certain rooms beneficiaries are forbidden to enter during the tournament.” He consulted his set of instructions. “The wine cellar, the servants’ quarters and their hall, the larder, scullery, kitchens, butler’s pantry, housekeeper’s office, and all bedchambers other than one’s own.”