by Jennifer Joy
Lord Harvisham bellowed loudly. "As soon as she will have you? She sounds like a lady with a mind of her own. Well done, Mr. Darcy. Now, if you tell me she has strength of character enough to withstand the pressures of society, I shall believe her perfect."
Richard asked boldly, "Is that what happened with Lady Catherine?"
While Darcy admitted to a sense of camaraderie with Lord Harvisham after his favorable comments about Elizabeth, Richard's question was too intimate and a waste of precious time. Glaring at his nosy cousin, he said, "What my cousin means is—"
"Precisely what he asked. Do not think I am unaware of your connection to that woman. I admire forthrightness and honesty. In battle, there is no time for politeness, and my experience with Lady Catherine could appropriately be compared to a struggle of wills against expectations. One which we both lost."
"She is in trouble," Richard continued, giving the details he heard in Longbourn’s parlor the day before the murder and calling on Darcy to fill in the rest.
Lord Harvisham pinched the back of his neck and took a deep breath when the account concluded. "I had hoped to live the remainder of my days without seeing that woman again, but never let it be said I would back down before an old adversary. We will leave immediately by coach. There is no sense riding on horseback in this miserable weather. We will arrive in time for your lady to bury her mother on the morrow."
He charged through the room, leaving Darcy and Richard to dry their damp clothes by the fire. Within a half an hour, they sat inside Lord Harvisham's coach.
Aside from the occasional inquiry regarding the murder and any details Darcy had observed, Lord Harvisham was content to travel the greater part of the journey in silence … strumming his fingers and staring out into the darkness as if plotting his revenge.
Chapter 14
It was not the hour to retire, nor could Elizabeth sleep with the images swirling in her head and the sound of weeping surrounding her if it had been. Lydia and Kitty had yet to calm themselves, and Father had sent Thomas for a draught from the apothecary (who was accustomed to the fits of hysterics common in the Bennet household).
Jane sat with her by the fire in the drawing room, finishing the final embroidery stitches on Kitty's wedding dress. "Do you think Kitty's banns will be read on Sunday?" she asked.
Elizabeth did not hesitate to reply. "Mother would have wanted it. There are three days until services, and I plan to encourage Father to speak to the vicar about it."
"The vicar is reasonable. I trust he will do what is best."
The sounds of jangling harnesses and carriage wheels sloshing through the muddy road could be heard over the pitapat of rain against the windows. The apothecary must have decided to call.
She went to Father in the study. He had not left the room all afternoon. "A carriage is here, Papa."
Father looked away from the wall, focusing on her. "It is Mr. Darcy and the magistrate."
How could he possibly know that? "Here? On such a night?" Elizabeth had assumed he would come in the morning, thus delaying Mother's burial by a day.
"Mr. Whimple informed me of the plans Mr. Darcy had made, as per his instructions. If Lord Harvisham was agreeable to traveling this evening, he meant to bring him here immediately to see …" He rested his forehead against his shaking hands.
Elizabeth rushed to his side. "Then it is a kindness they have come, if indeed it is them. Come, Papa. We must receive our callers." It was growing increasingly difficult to stay angry at William.
Rubbing his hands over his face, Father nodded slowly, and rose to his feet to follow Elizabeth to the warmer drawing room where they waited for their callers to be announced.
Father had been correct. Lord Harvisham, William, and Colonel Fitzwilliam were announced.
Lord Harvisham was a giant of a man, taller even than William. However, his gentle, unassuming manners soon put her at ease. What a relief he was not a stuffy aristocrat. He sat next to Father and directly in front of her.
Leaning toward Father with his hands splayed out on top of his breeches, Lord Harvisham said, "Mr. Bennet, I am so sorry for your loss. I lost my wife five years ago, and it took some time to bear the loneliness. You are fortunate to have daughters at home and, from what I observe, they are of the sensible sort who will be of the most comfort." He smiled sadly at Elizabeth, Jane, and Mary. Kitty and Lydia had taken their draughts and were indisposed.
"Thank you, my lord. My eldest girls are the best daughters a father could wish for."
Lord Harvisham raised his eyebrows, but made no remark about the younger daughters who could be heard snoring upstairs. Instead, he said, "I imagine so, Mr. Bennet."
"Do you have daughters, Lord Harvisham?" asked Mary, quite off the topic of their real reason for calling.
"No. I have three sons." He offered no further explanation, and Elizabeth sensed it was for the best. It was clearly time to change the subject.
"Thank you for coming so quickly,” she said. As yet, Elizabeth had avoided eye contact with William — an accomplishment growing difficult to maintain as she felt his eyes boring into her.
“Let us not delay our unpleasant business over niceties. Please tell me anything you feel will help in this investigation. I am here to listen, observe, and make a judgment,” Lord Harvisham said, addressing Father.
Elizabeth cleared her throat. Father was in no condition to speak, nor would she involve him. “I am the one who discovered the body and am willing to answer any questions you might have." There was no sense in delaying the inevitable. She cared not if she offended. If Lord Harvisham thought the matter too delicate to consider with a young lady, she would merely investigate on her own. It made no difference to her.
Lord Harvisham considered her for some time, but she could meet his gaze. There was sympathy in his eyes, but as he had no power to break her heart, it did not make her cry.
Finally, the elderly man spoke. "Mr. Bennet, obviously I must speak with all witnesses involving the investigation. It is unfortunate Miss Elizabeth should be in possession of so much information when the murder victim was her own mother, but I believe it best for all concerned for me to ascertain the facts as quickly and accurately as possible. Do I have your permission to hear what Miss Elizabeth knows, in the understanding that she will have to reveal information indelicate to a lady? In your presence, of course."
It was not quite a snort, nor was it a sigh Father produced. To Elizabeth, it was a good sign that Father would soon recover to his normal, humorous self. He was not lost completely. "Perhaps you will consider me negligent in my oversight where my daughter's education is concerned, my lord. I have allowed Lizzy access to all the books in my study, which she has taken advantage of to the full. Let me reassure you, Lord Harvisham, there are not many topics about which she cannot speak of intelligently and, often, with more understanding than most gentlemen. Ask what you must. Only allow my other daughters present to choose for themselves if they wish to hear the details of their mother's abrupt end."
Jane took a deep breath. "I will offer all the support in my possession to my sister. She must not bear this alone after the shock she has experienced today."
Elizabeth reached over and held Jane's extended hand. She almost wished Jane would have chosen to leave. What she had to relate to the magistrate was gruesome and most assuredly unsuitable for a tender-hearted lady's ears. But Jane would bear it for her. If only everyone she loved possessed that same loyalty for her. Of course, Jane was family. William had his own family.
Mary agreed. "I am the least affected amongst us and, as such, am perhaps in a better position to draw logical conclusions."
Father furled his brow and bunched up his cheeks, but he did not contradict what he knew to be true. Elizabeth had often vied for last place in Mother's affections. Hearing Mary acknowledge so aloud was all the more painful for the distant, factual manner in which she stated her position.
With a sigh, Father raised his hands. "There you have
it. My daughters have spoken. They will stay."
Elizabeth, feeling defiant in her sisters' display of loyalty, made the mistake of looking at William. She expected him to look down in guilt, to shift his weight in discomfort, or even to look upon Father with scorn. Society certainly would not approve. What she did not expect was the hint of a smile he gave her and the nod of approval.
Clearing his throat, Lord Harvisham asked in a grave tone for Elizabeth to explain everything she remembered from that afternoon — including any pertinent details immediately before she discovered the body. He was careful never to refer to her relationship with the deceased, keeping it impersonal and making it easier for her to share details. Of course, she left out the altercation with William causing the doubt festering in her mind.
Father rubbed his temples. Elizabeth wished he would leave the room. As she related every pertinent point in her memory, she saw him withdraw into himself. “When I saw her lying on the floor, I screamed,” she cut her narrative short.
"Where was her wound?" Lord Harvisham insisted.
"On her forehead and temple."
"Did you see any other wounds?"
"No."
"What else did you notice?"
With a cautious look at Father, she continued, "The blood was still fresh. I might very well have walked past the killer." A chill ran up her spine.
"Did you take note of the time?"
The time. She remembered the coroner pulling out his pocket watch, but she had not noticed the hour as she had the last time she had been inside the shop. There had been no chimes to alert her. It was a clue!
Her hands trembling in excitement, she said, "No, I did not. The marble mantel clock did not chime. I do not remember seeing it on the shelf behind the chair." If it were reasonable in the least, she would have run into Meryton to see if the clock was on the shelf or not. It had been several months in the shop. The likelihood of someone happening to buy it from one day to the next was slight when it was not a new item. On the other hand, it was heavy and would have made the perfect murder weapon.
William added, "I can confirm that the clock was not on the shelf at the time of the murder. A marble clock would be heavy enough to use as a weapon."
Lord Harvisham nodded slowly. "If its shape is consistent with the injury, it is a good lead."
Mary, in a monotone, said, "It is almost biblical, is it not?"
Her voiced musing was met with silence.
Colonel Fitzwilliam said, "As in Cain and Abel?"
At that, Mary must have realized she had spoken aloud. Shaking her head, she said, "No. I was thinking of the account of the serpent in the Garden of Eden. The Lord said he would bruise the serpent on the head.”
“Thank you, Mary,” said Elizabeth before her sister went off on a religious tangent. “Of course, a righteous individual aware of that account would never act against his fellow man."
Lord Harvisham asked, "Are there religious zealots in Meryton capable of such a sin?”
Mary’s eyes widened. “None I know. I merely remarked on a similarity.”
“And I thank you for it,” said Lord Harvisham. “We must consider every possibility and, while I tend to agree with Miss Elizabeth, it does sound like an act of hate. Are you aware of any enemies the deceased might have had?"
Jane answered, "She had no enemies of which we knew. There were several who avoided her, but I would not say they hated her. Certainly not enough to end her life."
"I will want to speak with those whom you feel did not like her. We must leave no stone unturned."
Gracious, where to begin?
Mary came to her aid. "Then you will have to speak with everyone in Meryton with the exception of Aunt Philips, Miss Lucas, and our servants. The vicar and his wife displayed extraordinary patience with Mother, but she often tried even them."
Lord Harvisham controlled his expression, but his lengthened pause proved it was difficult. "Is there anyone in particular you believe might possess some knowledge about the murder?"
Elizabeth said, "Mr. Burk lied when Mr. Darcy asked if anyone else was in the shop. His wife and two other shopkeepers in the village were in the parlor. These same ladies, along with a few more, were at the shop two days before. While I am not inclined to believe any one of them guilty, they are not commonly in association together and they might have seen or heard something of import."
"I will arrange to speak with them on the morrow. Anyone else?" he asked.
“And the men unloading the cart with Mr. Burk?” she added.
William said, “I have seen to it.”
Of course he had. Apparently he interpreted her annoyed expression for curiosity, for he went on to explain, “I asked Mr. Tanner, the village constable, to speak with them before they departed for London.”
“Good. Anyone else?” asked Lord Harvisham.
Elizabeth felt the discomfort in the room. She could not be the one to implicate Lady Catherine. If anyone was to voice the suspicion aloud, it had to come from someone else. As badly as she felt betrayed by William, he was justified in behaving as he did, and she could not return like for like. Not only would she lose his respect, but she would lose her own.
William said, "Other than my Aunt Catherine, as I have admitted to you during our journey here, I can think of no one else capable of harboring such an enormous amount of resentment against Mrs. Bennet. Most people in the village, from what I have observed in my time here, understood her always to seek the best interests of her daughters. Her methods were not always approved of, but her motivation most definitely was."
Elizabeth held her breath so as not to sigh her relief aloud.
"I see." With one more glance at the occupants around the room, Lord Harvisham said, "That is all the questions I have at this moment. We will have a preliminary hearing in five days’ time whereupon we will send our accused to Hertford to await trial for murder.”
Five days. Monday. Five days to learn the truth.
Chapter 15
The rain softened to a gentle spattering for Mother's burial the following morning.
Mr. Bingley came to offer his condolences and to accompany Father … as did Colonel Fitzwilliam and William. Lord Harvisham went along as well, though Elizabeth suspected he went more to observe than to offer comfort to a gentleman he had only met the evening before.
The men left Longbourn together. A cluster of black greatcoats and hats against the sad, gray sky. Elizabeth felt as drab as the weather with her black trimmings and ribbons on her most somber dress. She had tucked her emerald green dress into the back of her armoire, feeling as if she had lost a friend. It had been the dress she relied on to give her cheer when she felt uncertain. Now, she would have to wait until Kitty’s wedding to wear it. Wearing mourning to a wedding was frowned upon, but there would be no bright green for her for the next six months apart from that joyous event. No lively colors and vibrant hues to brighten the long, dark, winter days ahead of them. Mother would never have approved, but certain conventions of society must not be thumbed lest one become a complete outcast. While Elizabeth did not give a fop’s fob for society, even she knew she could not do as she pleased without consequences to herself and, worse, to her sisters.
She turned away from the window when the coffin disappeared from sight to the roomful of contrasting ladies. Charlotte was there. She would never abandon a friend in need … nor miss an opportunity to see Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Aunt Philips fussed over the tea and cake she had brought, complaining about her nerves and fanning herself by the fire just as Mother had always done.
Mrs. Thorne attempted not to show how much she enjoyed her cake. One must never enjoy anything during a funeral.
Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley had arrived with Mr. Bingley, no doubt to keep a watch on him lest he do something so untoward as to propose to Jane.
"How is Lady Lucas, Miss Lucas? I do hope she is well," said Miss Bingley, giving more attention to the embroidery on her skirt than
to Charlotte.
Concerned, Elizabeth asked, "Has your mother been unwell?"
Charlotte nodded. "She has taken to bed since the day of the parade."
"As well she should with the shock she suffered," said Miss Bingley without the delicacy Elizabeth's dear friend had bestowed.
Charlotte pursed her lips at the tactless comment. "Indeed. We expect her to recover fully within a few days. She does not suffer from the delicate constitution so many ladies younger than her do. I will tell her you inquired after her health."
With a huff, Mrs. Hurst sat back in her chair. "It is rather stuffy in this room."
Not as stuffy as some of its occupants, thought Elizabeth.
Leaning forward and widening her eyes in a display of feigned innocence, Miss Bingley said, "What a pity you are in mourning for the greater part of a year."
Elizabeth would have thought it the lesser part of a year. It did not sound as dire.
Miss Bingley looked at Mrs. Hurst as if they had rehearsed what to say.
Mrs. Hurst took a moment to remember her practiced lines, receiving a scowl from her younger sister. "Oh, yes. It is a pity. It will be impossible for Miss Kitty to marry while she is in mourning, not to mention entering into an engagement." That was directed mostly at Jane.
Inhaling deeply through her nose to cool her stirred blood, Elizabeth said slowly, "Do not suppose too quickly. The vicar asked to call on the morrow about the reading of the banns and subsequent marriage ceremony. He did not imply arrangements need be suspended."
Mrs. Thorne smiled. “Of course. There is no reason Miss Kitty or any of you, for that matter, must suffer more than you already are. Just as silver is refined from its impurities by the heat of fire, so the Bennet maidens will be purified and blessed after their tribulation.”
Miss Bingley huffed and Mary nodded her agreement. Elizabeth could have thought of a more appropriate scripture to quote, but she was more interested in Kitty’s future to allow herself the distraction.