by Jann Rowland
Murder at Netherfield
by
Jann Rowland
One Good Sonnet Publishing
By Jann Rowland
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE ADAPTATIONS
Acting on Faith
A Life from the Ashes (Sequel to Acting on Faith)
Open Your Eyes
Implacable Resentment
An Unlikely Friendship
Bound by Love
Cassandra
Obsession
Shadows Over Longbourn
The Mistress of Longbourn
My Brother’s Keeper
Coincidence
The Angel of Longbourn
Chaos Comes to Kent
In the Wilds of Derbyshire
The Companion
The Angel of Longbourn
Chaos Comes to Kent
In the Wilds of Derbyshire
The Companion
Out of Obscurity
What Comes Between Cousins
A Tale of Two Courtships
COURAGE ALWAYS RISES: THE BENNET SAGA
The Heir’s Disgrace
PRIDE AND PREJUDICE VARIATIONS
Co-Authored with Lelia Eye
WAITING FOR AN ECHO
Waiting for an Echo Volume One: Words in the Darkness
Waiting for an Echo Volume Two: Echoes at Dawn
Waiting for an Echo Two Volume Set
A Summer in Brighton
A Bevy of Suitors
Love and Laughter: A Pride and Prejudice Short Stories Anthology
THE EARTH AND SKY TRILOGY
Co-Authored with Lelia Eye
On Wings of Air
On Lonely Paths
On Tides of Fate*
*Forthcoming
This is a work of fiction, based on the works of Jane Austen. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are products of Jane Austen’s original novel, the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously.
MURDER AT NETHERFIELD
Copyright © 2018 Jann Rowland
Cover Design by Marina Willis
Published by One Good Sonnet Publishing
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1987929934
ISBN-13: 9781987929935
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, digital, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
To my family who have, as always, shown
their unconditional love and encouragement.
Table of Contents
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
Chapter XXIII
Chapter XXIV
Chapter XXV
Epilogue
For Readers Who Liked Murder at Netherfield
Also by One Good Sonnet Publishing
If you’re a fan of thieves with a heart of gold,
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About the Author
Chapter I
It is an inescapable truth that when a single man of good fortune moves into a neighborhood, he immediately becomes the focus of attention for the young ladies and matrons who live there. But when several murders occur at the man’s house within a few months of his moving there, the interest is quashed quite quickly.
Now, it is not the purpose of this work to cast aspersions on Mr. Bingley or accuse him of something so heinous as murder. He was also known to be a fine, happy man of impeccable manners and a happy disposition. Such benefits of character must necessarily include the assumption that he was completely incapable of anything underhanded. But then again, he must also be considered a suspect, for the murders occurred at his house and under his stewardship. Therefore, he could not be absolved without understanding the facts, which would serve to exonerate or damn him in the eyes of the law.
Sadly, when the gossips of society hear of anything salacious, innuendo is followed by tales told, becoming more outlandish by the moment, until the subject’s reputation is ruined. Whether the events at Netherfield were to result in this pitiable state of affairs remained to be seen, though gossip would undoubtedly ensue. This, of course, would not free any of the other residents of the estate from speculation.
But perhaps we should start at the beginning, for the ending would only confuse the reader without the proper foundation. And it is possible that Mr. Bingley might be acquitted, should the full circumstances be known.
Netherfield Park, the estate in question, had long stood empty—or at least long in the eyes of the younger generation. Those who had lived long enough in society would remember the grand balls the previous owner had held, the likes of which none of them had seen since. The estate was the largest in the vicinity of the small market town of Meryton, more than twice the size of the next largest estate. The new owner—though he had owned it for several years—had no use for the property and had tried to let it for some time before finally attracting Mr. Bingley, a young man whose father had left him a large fortune amassed in trade. He was eager to fulfill his father’s wish and purchase an estate. Fortunately for him, his good friend convinced him it would be better to lease the estate for a year and learn to manage it properly before taking such a step as using his life savings on the purchase.
Netherfield’s nearest neighbor was an estate by the name of Longbourn, which was also the next largest to Netherfield in both size and income. The family at Longbourn, the Bennets, who had held the estate for several centuries, were typical country folk, not rich enough to engage much of their time in London, and blessed—or cursed—with a succession of five daughters, with not an heir to be had. This was particularly pitiable since the estate was entailed on a distant cousin whom none of them had ever met.
Mrs. Bennet, the estate’s mistress, was herself the daughter of the local solicitor who had made a fortunate marriage when she had come to the attention of the estate’s young master. He had married her in haste, having been enchanted by her good looks and vibrant character. Unfortunately, what may be entered with haste may be repented at leisure, for Mr. Bennet soon found that his wife’s good humor and beauty hid the character defects of an illiberal mind, mean understanding, and an inability to discuss anything other than fashion or gossip. Mr. Bennet, though he repented heartily of his choice, possessed an unusual philosophy, which allowed him to take his amusement where he could—usually at his wife’s expense—and retreat to his bookroom when her nerves became too much for him to tolerate.
It was unfortunate, but the longer their marriage progressed, the more prevalent Mrs. Bennet’s nerves became. The primary culprit of this change was the aforementioned entail. Mrs. Bennet’s dowry, a mere five thousand pounds, would in no way be sufficient to provide for her when her husband passed on, and she lived in fear of being forced into the hedgerows when the unknown heir arrived to claim the estate. Her silliness thus increased apace, rendering her an ever less tolerable companion for her husband. Combine this with an insatiable desire to see her daughters wed and with the silliness of two youngest girl
s—Kitty and Lydia—and their incessant giggling, carrying on, and loud talking, and it was a wonder Mr. Bennet ever came out of his bookroom.
It should not be a shock that the arrival of a young man of good fortune should cause palpitations on the part of the mistress, indeed, such that she was forced to call for her smelling salts several times in the days after his arrival became known in the village. Dreams of this man providing the means for their salvation flashed before Mrs. Bennet’s eyes, leading her to declare him the property of her eldest and most beautiful daughter, Jane, long before any of them had actually made his acquaintance. Jane’s younger sister and closest confidante, Elizabeth, watched her mother’s enthusiasm with annoyance, though she fully agreed with the idea that Jane was the dearest person in the world. Any man would be a fool not to fall in love with her. The middle daughter, Mary, contented herself with her favorite little homilies, to which, as usual, no one paid any attention.
While Mrs. Bennet dreamed and schemed, and her daughters participated to varying degrees, it remained a fact that none of the Bennet ladies had ever laid eyes on the young man. As such, they were dependent upon the account of their good friend, Charlotte Lucas, who informed them she had seen him from a distance and thought him tall and well favored. Their first glimpse of the elusive man came at the assembly they attended not long after Mr. Bingley’s arrival in Hertfordshire.
“He is, indeed, a handsome man, is he not, girls?” giggled Mrs. Bennet when the party was shown into the room.
“He is,” agreed Charlotte, who stood with them, having pointed out which one of the party was Mr. Bingley.
“Who are the other members of his party?” asked Elizabeth, noting the presence of two other gentlemen and two ladies.
“The tall, dark one is Mr. Darcy, apparently a friend of longstanding. The ladies are his sisters—the taller is the younger, Miss Caroline Bingley, while the elder is Mrs. Louisa Hurst. Mrs. Hurst is married to the other gentleman.”
“How convenient,” exclaimed Elizabeth, turning a grin upon her oldest friend, “that the plain, stout man would be the one who is already married! The single gentlemen are quite handsome, indeed, and will be much sought after, I dare say.”
Charlotte smiled. “I am certain you are correct, Lizzy. Perhaps you will even catch the eye of one of the gentlemen yourself.”
“If I can pry their attention away from Jane,” replied Elizabeth, noting that Mr. Bingley was already looking in their direction and at her elder sister in particular.
A few more moments’ time proved Elizabeth’s supposition, for the party made their way toward the assembled Bennet ladies, Sir William leading them while speaking and gesturing in his expansive manner. Mr. Bingley strode alongside him, apparently eager, while Mr. Darcy was slower to follow. The ladies and Mr. Hurst only continued to stand by the door, and in their manners, Elizabeth thought she saw haughtiness and disdain.
“Mrs. Bennet,” said Sir William when he and Mr. Bingley had reached them, “Mr. Bingley has expressed a wish to be introduced to you and your family.”
“Thank you, sir,” replied Mrs. Bennet with a low curtsey. Sir William performed the duty with his usual civility, and Mr. Bingley bowed along with his friend and said all the usual niceties. But his next action succeeded in proving Elizabeth’s earlier thoughts.
“Miss Bennet,” said he, “I would be pleased if you would do me the honor of standing up with me for the next.”
“Thank you, sir,” replied Jane, a rosy hue already working its way over her countenance.”
“Excellent!” cried Mr. Bingley. Then he seemed to remember something, turned to Mr. Darcy, who was watching them all with an unreadable expression, and gave him a pointed look. Whether they had previously spoken of the matter, Elizabeth could not be sure. But Mr. Darcy, though he did not appear to be enthused in the slightest, obliged, addressing Elizabeth.
“Would you care to dance, Miss Elizabeth?”
Though a perverse portion of her mind thought to refuse his application, given the unwilling nature of his offering it, she had no wish to sit out for the rest of the evening. Thus, Elizabeth gave her assent, and soon they proceeded to the dance
Whatever she had expected, Elizabeth would not have thought the man would be determined to remain silent throughout their time together. It was clear to Elizabeth that he was a reticent man, though she could not quite make out whether he thought himself above his company or was excessively proud. But for the first fifteen minutes of the set, she found herself despairing of ever having any conversation with him.
“Do you plan to stay long in the neighborhood, Mr. Darcy?” asked she, finally desperate to have any, even the most banal of conversations with this man.
“I believe I shall likely stay until at least early December,” replied Mr. Darcy.
Though she waited for him to elaborate, it turned out to be a futile expectation, for Mr. Darcy once again fell silent. In fact, Elizabeth thought she detected a hint of displeasure about his mouth and the way his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. That, of course, set her once again to annoyance. It was not as if she had asked him the income of his estate, inquired regarding the size of his fortune, or requested the keys of his vaults!
“I hope, then, that you enjoy your time at leisure.” Having said that much, Elizabeth intended to say nothing more, for there did not seem to be the possibility of intelligent exchange with this man. Then he surprised her and spoke again.
“The purpose of my visit is not my leisure, Miss Bennet. As this is Bingley’s first chance to manage an estate, he has asked me to be of assistance to him.”
“Then that is commendable, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth. “But I suspect Mr. Bingley does not wish to be consumed with estate matters at all times. Autumn and winter are times on the estate when the amount of work is lessened, and a wise estate manager must use the time effectively to refresh himself for the work which must be done the following spring.”
Mr. Darcy smiled at Elizabeth’s comment, the first time she had ever seen such a thing from the man. She had begun to wonder if he was even capable of truly smiling. “You are quite correct, of course. Hurst is much more interested in sport, so I assume there will be much of that. I am fond of riding, and as my friend is too, I dare say there will be many opportunities for leisure. However, Bingley has much to learn, and as my purpose is to facilitate this, I would be a poor friend if I did not direct him back to it on occasion.”
“A conscientious landowner,” said Elizabeth, her respect for the man rising a little. “I hope Mr. Bingley proves to be an excellent student.”
Mr. Darcy again smiled, though Elizabeth could easily detect the wry quality it contained. “My friend is quite intelligent and has the best of intentions. Unfortunately, he is easily distracted on occasion. But I shall persevere.”
They parted soon after with little else passing between them. Elizabeth was not certain what to think of the man, for he avoided conversation for the rest of the evening, speaking only to the members of his own party. He did dance twice more—once with each of Mr. Bingley’s sisters—but Elizabeth thought his performance was nothing more than duty, rather than engaging with them out of pleasure for the activity or their company.
He was an enigma, a puzzle she could not quite understand. He seemed to be a stiff man, though whether that was the strict adherence to proper behavior, discomfort, or a sense of superiority, she did not know. Most of those to whom she spoke commented that he had danced with her out of all of them, but most seemed to think it was because of what his friend had expected of him. Though she could not say she was looking forward to his acquaintance, she was interested to see if she could make him out any further.
While Elizabeth had difficulty in sketching Mr. Darcy, the same was not true of the rest of the party. Mr. Hurst was a bore, rarely saying anything at gatherings and always sitting in a position which afforded easy access to the refreshments. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley thought hi
ghly of themselves and meanly of their neighbors, and while they seemed to take a liking to Jane, they rarely had anything other than a sneer for anyone else in the neighborhood.
But Mr. Bingley, by contrast, was a genial man, open and eager to be included in their company, happy, garrulous, and everything gentlemanly. But the greatest point in his favor was the fact that it was soon clear that he preferred Jane’s company to anyone else’s. There were several other activities in the ensuing days, including dinners, parties, card parties, and even a meeting or two on Meryton’s streets. Mr. Bingley’s preference was clear for all to see, for he did nothing to hide it. Jane, however, was quite different, and it took one with knowledge of her to divine her preferences. As such, Elizabeth took it upon herself to ensure Jane left Mr. Bingley in no doubt of her growing feelings.
“Do you wish me to show Mr. Bingley more affection than I feel, Lizzy?” asked Jane in that mild manner of hers when Elizabeth brought the subject to her attention.
“You know very well I advocate no such behavior, Jane,” replied Elizabeth. “I only inform you that you are quite the reticent creature, and as such, it would behoove you to make your regard known to him.” Elizabeth paused and shot her sister a mischievous smile. “Or am I mistaken about your regard for the gentleman?”
Jane blushed, but she did not avoid the question. “No, Lizzy, you are not mistaken. Mr. Bingley is one of the finest men I have ever known, and I like him prodigiously.”
“Only like?” asked Elizabeth, laughing when Jane turned the color of a ripe apple.
“I have not known him long,” cried Jane. “How can I know at this early juncture if I feel more for him?”
“You cannot, dearest,” replied Elizabeth. “And I understand. I only speak this way as I am not certain you will be allowed to take your time to come to know him. You may be required to discover your feelings in a more expeditious manner.”