by Jennifer Joy
Darcy stepped out to see from whence the sounds proceeded and was disappointed to see three women come out from a room behind the counter.
Mr. Burk had lied. So much for his word.
"Come no further," Darcy ordered, stopping the two tradeswomen and Mrs. Burk mid-step. Who he did not see enter the shop until it was too late to prevent her was Lady Lucas.
She looked past him to Elizabeth, who had stepped away to see the ladies as he had. "My dear Lizzy, are you well? What has happened?" Lady Lucas rushed forward with outstretched hands.
"Please, Lady Lucas, I beg you to come no further," warned Darcy. Her consideration for Elizabeth warmed his heart, and his respect for her increased with the attention she gave her daughter's best friend, but he did not want a roomful of delicate females on his hands either.
"Oh," she moved a hand to cover her mouth.
It was too late. She had seen Mrs. Bennet.
Darcy lunged toward her as Lady Lucas’ eyes rolled back in her head and her body went limp. Mr. Burk caught her by the arm, slowing her fall enough for Darcy to reach her. The other ladies stood frozen in the hall, each one of them looking as if they might imitate Lady Lucas’ example soon.
“Is there a place she may be laid?” Darcy asked. There were other, more important questions to ask, but he could not very well do so until the ladies were seen to. What a bother.
Moving them back from whence they had come, Mr. Burk led Darcy into the parlor where there was a settee and several cushioned chairs arranged around a circular table with a tea service on its surface. Placing Lady Lucas on the settee, Darcy ordered, “Do not leave the shop. Better yet, do not leave this room until the hue and cry is done and Mr. Whimple can begin his inquest.” To Mr. Burk, he asked, "Do you have a boy you can send for the coroner?"
Mr. Burk, knowing better than to speak any more lies, nodded his head.
Before Mr. Burk left in search of the boy, Darcy added, "While that is being seen to, be so good as to ask Mr. Tanner to join us here." Addressing the ladies whom Mr. Burk had sought to protect, and who thus appeared all the more guilty to Darcy, he added, "Mrs. Bennet has been bludgeoned to death. We have a killer in our midst."
The ladies collectively gasped. Mrs. Burk nearly tripped over her feet in her haste to get the key hanging from a hook behind the counter and lock the door to the shop after Mr. Burk. Already, curious people peeked through the windows.
Darcy watched Elizabeth struggle to hold back her tears. He wished for her the release a good cry allowed. Even though he had not been close to his father, he had still cried for him. Once had been enough. The death of his mother, on the other hand … He still felt a profound sadness for her, though his tears had dried up years ago. She would have approved of Elizabeth. Even now, on what must surely be the worst day of her life, she knelt beside Lady Lucas and asked the upstairs maid lingering in the hall to bring a fresh pot of tea and spirits. Her strength of character in seeing to others when she was the one needing comfort strengthened Darcy’s resolve to care for her as nobody else would.
Elizabeth hated herself for being so weak. She would hide in Mr. Darcy’s arms until the worst of the storm had passed if she had her way. He felt safe … but he was not hers.
When she made the mistake of peeking over her shoulder at Mr. Darcy, the tears welled up in her throat and made speech impossible. His mask was gone and she read the emotions of her heart written across his heavyhearted features. He knew grief. He had lost both of his parents. Had he felt as she did when his father had died?
No, she stopped herself firmly. These distressing reflections would add nothing but misery to her dismay. She needed answers. Answers about her mother. No. Not yet. She could not bear it. Answers from Mr. Darcy.
Why had he entered the shop when he did? Had he followed her after their argument? Dare she hope? She hurt too much to deny herself the possibility of her hope. It was the silver lining in her storm cloud and she clung to it even though she knew it could ultimately hurt her worse than she felt at the sight of her mother. Guilt and hope. Mother would scold her for mottling her skin and reddening her eyes with tears. And in front of Mr. Darcy, at that! But Mother was gone …
Once again forcing her thoughts away from the woman whose counsel she had ignored so many times and which she currently craved, she focused on Mr. Darcy. Nay, not Mr. Darcy any more. William. The small rebellion of thinking his Christian name infused her with courage.
She raised William’s handkerchief to her eyes, inhaling his calming scent. She should still be angry at him. She was still angry at him! The one person to offer her solace was the very person who could crush her. And yet, she was foolish enough to hope. Stupid!
A loud pounding on the front door of the shop made Elizabeth stand upright. Her eyes felt hot and swollen, but they were dry. Lady Lucas began to stir. She would wake shortly.
“The hue and cry?” she asked William, moving to the hall.
“I have seen to it.”
“The coroner? Did anyone send for Mr. Whimple?” She now had a view of the front door. If she could just keep her mind busy … so busy she had no time to ponder what had happened … why it had happened.
“I have seen to that as well.”
Would William leave her nothing to do?
Mrs. Burk opened the door and let in two sopping wet men. Mr. Tanner and Mr. Burk shook their coats under the eaves before they stepped indoors.
"What has happened here?" asked Mr. Tanner, his eyes bouncing between Elizabeth and William. The ladies stayed in the parlor, so Elizabeth pointed to the far end of the shop. She pointed wordlessly, unable to bring herself to describe the grotesque image which would forever haunt her mind.
Mr. Tanner turned to Elizabeth the moment he saw.
"My deepest condolences, Miss Elizabeth," he said in as much of a whisper as a man such as he was capable.
"Where is Colonel Fitzwilliam? I had thought he would join you," said William.
"He stayed behind to assist Lady Catherine to Netherfield Park." His eyes widened and he crossed his arms. Mr. Darcy's jaw clenched.
Lady Catherine. Had she fulfilled her threats against Mother?
Looking at Elizabeth, Mr. Tanner said, "I suppose I cannot convince you to leave this investigation to the authorities? I take it Darcy will see a proper investigation is done." He looked at William for answers, when she had been asked the question.
She was about to respond when another knock rattled the door.
Mrs. Burk had had the presence of mind to keep her key in her apron, and she was quick to open the door to admit the coroner. Elizabeth turned her attention back to Mr. Tanner or anyone else who would attempt to force her to leave the room before she was ready. But a flicker of rose petal pink and fair hair gave her pause. Jane had followed the coroner, and one step behind her came Mr. Bingley.
Jane’s spencer was soaked through from the rain outside, and the ringlets which had so elegantly framed her face earlier now clung to her skin. Elizabeth rushed forward to stop her. She must not see Mother as she was. Taking her by the arm, she led her toward the counter.
"What has happened? I saw the commotion outside the shop and grew worried when neither you nor Mother joined us outside Aunt Philips’ to watch the parade. Mother would not miss it for the world unless some accident prevented it." Jane gracefully accepted the dry handkerchief Mr. Bingley pulled out from his waistcoat pocket and dabbed at the raindrops dripping down her face.
Elizabeth tried. She really did. But smiles escaped her.
William stood beside Mr. Bingley while Mr. Tanner welcomed the coroner who walked past them to Mother.
"The longer you wait to tell your family, the more difficult it will become," William said in a low tone. As if she did not already know that.
Jane's breath shook, but her shoulders relaxed as she exhaled. "Mother?" she asked with a strong calm Elizabeth envied. Her emotions were in a turmoil as tempestuous as the weather beyond the shelter of the shop.<
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Gulping the flurried mass of devastating words down, Elizabeth blurted, "Oh, Janey, Mother was murdered."
The change in Jane's complexion was not what Elizabeth had expected. Instead of blanching white, Jane's cheeks flushed and her eyes flashed in what could only be anger. It was short-lived, her spark of wrath soon dampened by a flood of tears, but it had been there. And it brought Elizabeth comfort. The only sentiment she was willing to grasp on to, the only one which would help her family, was her growing anger. Someone had killed her mother! She would find out who it was or perish in her attempt. What sort of coward hits a matron over the head?
Elizabeth hugged Jane to her — sisters united in wrath.
“What are all these ladies doing present? This is a delicate situation and I cannot do my work effectively if I must also worry about offending their sensibilities. It simply will not do,” complained Mr. Whimple, the coroner.
Elizabeth felt her chin jut out and her nails bite into her palms. The women. Indeed, what were they doing here? Why had Mr. Burk lied about them? What about Mr. Burk? How could he not have heard something? And where was Lady Catherine?
“Lizzy, you are squeezing me,” whispered Jane, shaking loose of Elizabeth’s firm hold. “We will leave, Mr. Whimple.”
Elizabeth did not agree with her sister’s placid obedience at all, but Jane tugged on her arm. Would it be too bold for her to ask William to allow her to stay? Mr. Whimple would never contradict his social superior’s wishes.
“Mr. Bingley, please see the ladies safely to Mrs. Philips’ residence. They need to inform their family of what has transpired and there are preparations to be made.” William did not look at her. Maybe he was scared she would glare him to death.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy. Mrs. Bennet cannot stay here,” said Mr. Burk.
Elizabeth turned her glare on him. “You lied,” she accused the shopkeeper. He knew something, and she did not want to leave until she knew what he hid.
“Miss Elizabeth, you must see to your family. I will do my best to inquire to your satisfaction until we can bring in a magistrate.” There, William looked at her. Pleadingly. It did not help her mood at all to know he was in the right. Her priority should be to attend to her family, but he was leaving her with nothing to do. Nothing to help find her mother’s murderer and nothing to prevent the avalanche of emotion from burying her.
Mr. Bingley and Jane joined forces against her, each of them taking an arm. Elizabeth would have shaken them off had they not been the only people innocent of her wrath in the entire room. Well, besides Lady Lucas.
Elizabeth looked over at William before stepping out of the shop. He was deep in conversation with Mr. Tanner and the coroner, but he met her gaze as the coroner pulled out his pocket watch and pronounced the hour and estimated the time of death. Elizabeth had the sense William wished to say something of importance to her, but, as usual, she could not read his expression well enough to know for certain. Blast the man! She determined to stay angry with him on principle. He should have defended her. He should have known how desperately she needed to stay. He should have chosen her over Miss de Bourgh.
Chapter 12
"Darcy, I will stay with the coroner. There is not much to see here which is not blatantly obvious," said Tanner. "Where I would appreciate your help is in asking those biddies in the back room why they were here and what they saw or heard. I do not have the delicate manners they would appreciate."
"And I do?" Darcy scoffed. He was not interested in talking with a group of sentimental females when all he wanted was to hold Elizabeth.
Tanner nodded. "Aye, you do. Much more so than me."
Darcy straightened his shoulders. "Perhaps they know something. Mr. Burk concealed their presence when I asked him directly if anyone else was in the shop."
Mr. Burk, who stood guarding the door a few paces away, heard. Darcy had meant for him to.
The shopkeeper shuffled his feet and looked down at the planks on the floor. He stilled when Darcy added, "And I aim to find out why he felt it necessary to lie. Come, Mr. Burk, I would like you to be present."
Mr. Burk inclined his head to the corner where Mr. Whimple stood. "What about the body?"
True. It could not stay in the shop. Mrs. Bennet would need to be buried as soon as he could convince the nearest magistrate to come to Meryton and make arrangements. He was certain Mr. Bennet would draw the same conclusion, but would take too long to come to it.
Tanner tapped his finger against his chin. "If we finish here quickly, you have sufficient time to ride to Lord Harvisham's estate and return so he can read the coroner’s formal findings and examine the body for himself. Mrs. Bennet could be laid to rest on the morrow.”
“It would be a kindness to the Bennets for the burial to be done without delay," agreed Darcy. It was going to be a daunting night, but it would keep the vigil at Longbourn short.
Darcy had never understood why it was considered inappropriate for women to be seen crying at a funeral when they were responsible for the preparation of the body. As if bathing and clothing a corpse was kinder to their sensibilities than being able to say their final farewells as the closed coffin descended into the ground. "I agree. Mr. Whimple, will you see to it that Mrs. Bennet is cleaned and delivered in a cart in the finest, lined coffin you can find? I do not want Mr. Bennet or his daughters to bear the burden of making any decisions regarding their deceased loved one."
Mr. Whimple opened his mouth, a protest on his tongue.
"Treat Mrs. Bennet as you would your own mother and I will trust your judgment will suit the Bennets. Spare nothing and defer all costs to me."
As Darcy suspected, that calmed Mr. Whimple's concern. Money usually did.
Turning to Tanner, Darcy said, "You mentioned Lord Harvisham. You are certain he is the nearest magistrate?" He did not know Lord Harvisham personally. His family had seen to that. Darcy only knew he was a gentleman to be avoided.
"Yes. On horseback, you could ride to his estate in …,” Tanner calculated, “ … under two hours in this weather. I would recommend you do so. He is an elderly gentleman and will no doubt want to return in his coach."
Darcy nodded, departing from Tanner and Mr. Whimple to see to the ladies. Darcy could not make them wait for the magistrate.
Lady Lucas sat on the settee. She was as pale as a ghost, but she was awake. Without hesitation, she poured another cup of tea when he walked into the room.
"Thank you, Lady Lucas." He pulled a chair over to the door to better see all four of the ladies, as well as to spare their sensitive noses from the smell covering his attire. What had they been doing? Darcy could not imagine a commonly held purpose meriting concealment. Ladies often assembled to stitch bandages for soldiers or to knit baby clothes for an expecting family.
"You have suffered quite a shock today," Darcy said, feeling silly for stating the obvious, but he never had been very good with small talk. What would Richard say? He would get answers without sounding stupid or causing offense.
Lady Lucas raised her teacup within inches of her lips. The steam swirled around her face. "Mrs. Bennet did not deserve to die as she did," she said softly and to no one in particular. It was no wonder she was still in shock.
Darcy watched the ladies clutch their hands together, pinch their lips, and look at each other out of the corners of their eyes as if they could reveal a great secret but had made a pact of silence. It made him angry. If they knew something — anything — they ought to say it.
"Did you observe anything which might help us along in our investigation?" he asked as nicely as he could.
Mrs. Burk was quick to answer. "No. We were in this room the entire time. We did not even know Mrs. Bennet remained in the shop, though I do recall seeing her enter."
"You did not wish to observe the parade?" Darcy asked. Not much excitement befell villages such as Meryton. It was an unusual occurrence when an individual would choose to miss an event such as the departure of the militia.
"I had some business to discuss with the ladies present and they were kind enough to join me at a time we knew we would have the opportunity to speak without interruption," answered Mrs. Burk.
Fair enough. The parade was the perfect distraction. Perfect to discuss matters privately without being observed. Perfect to conceal a murder. The hair on Darcy's arms stood on end. The murderer had chosen his time well. The streets had been lined with people and potential witnesses, but the masses of people also offered protection.
"Did you hear nothing? A scream? A struggle?" His questions were direct, but they must be asked.
The milliner inched her cup around the saucer, staring blankly into it. "It was so noisy outside, I did not hear anything untoward until Miss Elizabeth screamed."
The memory of it echoed in Darcy's ears. It would have been difficult to not hear it — even over the drums and flutes in the street and the thunder in the sky. Which could only lead him to conclude that Mrs. Bennet had been struck on the side of her forehead before she could sound a warning. Had she seen her attacker?
"If you remember anything. Sights, sounds, smells … anything you believe might or might not be useful, I implore you to speak with me. I am riding this afternoon to the nearest magistrate, and I am certain he will have more questions for you. Now, the only remaining doubt I have is what you were doing here at the time of Mrs. Bennet's murder."
Heads bowed and fingers fidgeted. What did they hide? Oh, how he wished they would speak!
"As I said before, Mr. Darcy, the ladies and I had some business to discuss. It was of a personal nature and had nothing to do with …" she paused, choosing her words, "… the unfortunate incident in my shop."
Lady Lucas burst into tears while the others nodded in agreement and scrambled to offer her comfort. Their failure to meet his gaze disturbed Darcy.
"You cannot reveal the nature of your meeting?" he insisted.