Who Murdered Mr Wickham

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Who Murdered Mr Wickham Page 15

by Carol Hutchens

“Ah, yes, indeed, but I expect most of the guests are similar to my wife. She insisted on hearing details of what we had learned. No doubt most conversations concerned the same topic.” Colonel Forester turned and stared in the flames. “Let us continue with Miss Bingley.” With unexpected compassion, Forester turned to Bingley. “Sir, if you would rather not be present for this interview we understand.”

  “Not at all, Colonel.” Bingley's face paled slightly, but his voice remained steady. “I will fetch her directly.”

  ***

  “Miss Bingley, how kind of you to join us,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said a short time later when Bingley escorted his youngest sister to the library.

  “Really, Colonel, you make it sound as if I had a choice.” Caroline sniffed and glared at the colonel as she jerked her arm from Bingley’s grip. “Is this interview in response to the comments I made earlier to Colonel Forester?”

  Fitzwilliam expected her reaction to being questioned. What unsettled him was Bingley’s sympathetic glance in his direction. As the younger brother, no doubt Bingley often suffered from the sharpness of his sisters’ comments. “Our questions concern the murder of Mr. Wickham, and nothing more, Miss Bingley. Perhaps your answers can assist our efforts to identify the person responsible?”

  Caroline turned and focused wide eyes on Colonel Forester, as if Fitzwilliam had remained silent. “Colonel Forester, I will repeat what I said the ballroom. If you want the murderer, you need look no further than Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

  “Miss Bingley,” Colonel Forester's tone rose in objection to her smirk and the note of delight in her voice, “a former member of my regiment is dead. I must insist you consider the serious nature of this situation and respond accordingly.”

  “I am nothing if not profound, Colonel Forester.” Caroline glared at Fitzwilliam with dislike. She suspected him of warning Darcy against forming an attachment to her and that was unforgivable. “But I must insist on an explanation as to why I am being treated in this manner in my own brother’s home.” She turned a pointed glare toward Colonel Fitzwilliam. “And why must I be subjected to insults from this man?”

  “Must I remind you again of the grave nature of this event, Miss Bingley? To investigate this murdeer, we must question all guests present, including Colonel Fitzwilliam. Now, let us proceed without further issue. Who did you converse with during your time in the garden?”

  “Really, Colonel, how do you expect me to recall such insignificant details about a stroll in the garden?” Caroline’s attempt at humor seemed out of place in the otherwise silent room. “The garden was so populated I saw many guests, even you and your wife.”

  “My wife?” Colonel Forester glanced at Colonel Fitzwilliam and cleared his throat. “If you saw my wife, surely I would remember seeing you.”

  “How could you when you were on the other side of the garden from where I spotted Mrs. Forester?” Caroline arched a well-shaped brow. “And you, sir, were definitely not with you wife when I saw her.”

  “What exactly are you suggesting, Miss Bingley?”

  “Only that you were walking without your wife when I observed your presence, Colonel.” Caroline’s intolerant sigh sounded over the crackling flames in the fireplace. “As half the guests in attendance were in the garden at that time, Colonel, I cannot imagine why you are questioning me on their whereabouts. When last I saw Mr. Wickham he was in the garden, alive and well. Very well, indeed, from what I observed, for he seemed more popular than any other attraction of the evening.”

  “What do you imply by that comment, Miss Bingley?”

  “Really, Colonel Forester,” Caroline’s mouth stretched in a knowing grin, “a man with your experience must know what I imply?”

  “You are in fine form, Miss Bingley, considering the serious events that happened in this room but a few hours past.” Colonel Forester’s cheeks matched the red of his uniform. “Had you have no feelings for Mr. Wickham?”

  “I am, of course, saddened by his death, but I had no reason to wish Mr. Wickham dead, if that is what you imply.” Caroline brushed at something on her skirt. “In fact, his demise is a great loss for Mr. Wickham was blessed with what most men lack.”

  “And what might that be, Miss Bingley?” Fitzwilliam had remained silent until Forester’s face turned so red he appeared ready to collapse, so now he stepped forward to risk the slicing from Caroline’s tongue.

  “Oh, that question is quite easy.” Caroline fluttered her lashes as her lips twisted in a sly smile. “It was charm, Colonel Fitzwilliam, a quality both you and Darcy seem to lack. But Mr. Wickham was a master at using his charm. He could—”

  “Was the power of his charm the reason we found a note from you note in his pocket?”

  “Why, Colonel Fitzwilliam, you sound vexed.” Caroline stretched her long-elegant neck and pinned Colonel Fitzwilliam with a cunning glare. “Is there any reason I should not exchange notes with Mr. Wickham?”

  “One or two things come to mind. His wife is sister to your brother's wife, for one. But other than that, Miss Bingley, none whatsoever, except for the fact that you asked him to meet you in the library. Considering the fact that his body was found in this room, I believe you understand why the meeting place alone is enough cause suspicion.” Colonel Fitzwilliam raised a brow as he held her stare.

  Failing in her attempt to stare Fitzwilliam down, Caroline finely turned to her brother and snapped. “Do stop pacing, as if you fear I am soon to hauled off to the gaol, Charles. I did not meet with Wickham as planned so you can breath easy.”

  “What changed your arrangement, Miss Bingley? Your note seemed quite insistent.”

  Caroline turned a glittering gaze on Fitzwilliam, “Um, yes, Colonel, now that I see the obstinate angle of your chin, I do notice your likeness to Darcy. You and Darcy are of a similar disposition. You appear upstanding and honorable, yet each of you have a broomstick for a backbone.”

  “Caroline—”

  “It is of no matter, Bingley.” Fitzwilliam said as he returned his attention to Caroline. “Do enlighten us, Miss Bingley. If your meeting was important enough to put it in writing, why did you not meet Mr. Wickham as planned?”

  “Oh, but I did.” Caroline fluttered her lashes as a secretive smile twisted her lips. “But not in this room I suggested.” Brows arched over eyes gleaming with satisfaction, Caroline waited for the reaction to her next words. “I stumbled upon Wickham in the garden, along with half the other guests,” she turned to look at Colonel Forester, “including Mrs. Forester.”

  “Now, see here—”

  “Did you encounter Mrs. Hurst on your stroll?” Fitzwilliam demanded over Colonel Forester's objection.

  “Of course, I saw my sister and Mr. Hurst.” Caroline watched the colonels exchange a glance, then added in a purring tone. “I also saw Mrs. Wickham and your precious Eliza Darcy.”

  Fitzwilliam hid his reaction to her taunting remark with a quick question. “Who else you observe in the garden?”

  “Have you no interest in who Mrs. Darcy was with?” The crinkle of Caroline’s gown sounded loudly in the near silent room as she leaned forward eagerly. “Have no fear for I shall gladly enlighten you. Eliza was talking to her sisters, Lydia and Kitty.”

  Fitzwilliam kept his gaze fastened on her face and chose to ignore the reference to Darcy's wife as he continued. “You were observed leaving the library after you returned from the garden. Yet you claim you did not meet with Mr. Wickham as planned.”

  “I am not yet in my dotage, Colonel. In fact, my memory is quite good. If you have any doubt as to that point ask my sister or Charles. Now, as I informed you earlier, I talked to Mr. Wickham in the garden, hence there was no need to meet him in this room as arranged. However, since you insist I recollect every occurrence, I do recall stepping into this room to warm by the fire. And before you ask if anyone can give evidence I did so, that Miss Brown was in here when I arrived.”

  “Yet the party is upstairs on the first floor. Why
come in this room if you were not meeting Mr. Wickham?”

  “Really, Colonel, is it not obvious? It was quite chilly in the garden and my dress is thin. I wanted to warm by the fire before returning to the ballroom. And as I am quite certain you will ask, when I left this room I decided to freshen up before joining the guests.”

  “Mmmm, so you came in here because you were aware of the warm fire kept in this room. What was Miss Brown about when you entered?” Fitzwilliam asked.

  “Now that you make mention of her,” Caroline’s scathing glare turned on her brother, as if he were at fault in her discovery of Miss Darcy’s companion, “Miss Brown was curled in a chair, reading a book as if she owned the house. Do servants not know their place any longer?”

  “Miss Brown is not a servant. She is Miss Georgiana’s companion.” Fitzwilliam responded forcefully.

  “Are you quite certain of that fact, Colonel? Mr. Darcy pays her does he not? And as such is the case, Miss Brown is a servant and has no right to make familiar with my brother’s home.”

  “Ah, yes, Miss Brown recalled you saying so, quite vehemently, Miss Bingley.” Fitzwilliam turned to Colonel Forester. “Have you any more questions for Miss Bingley?”

  Colonel Forester’s voice rumbled loud as he said. “Aye, I have but one more question, Miss Bingley. If you saw Mrs. Forester, as you claim, with whom was she speaking at the time?”

  “Is it your intention to examine your wife’s actions as well as all the other guests, Colonel? Or is this information of a more personal nature?” Caroline’s taunt echoed in the sudden silence of the room. “I cannot think it matters in the least, but as you insist on knowing, I believe she was conversing with Mr. Denny. However, with the moon peeping from behind clouds and the shadows so dark, it was difficult to be certain. Perhaps it was Captain Carter...umm, no. Captain Carter was with Miss King. Yes, now I do recall seeing the uniform. Mrs. Forester was with Mr. Denny.”

  Chapter 9

  As the door slammed behind Miss Bingley, Colonel Forester turned to Fitzwilliam. “We need to speak with Denny.”

  “I disagree, Colonel. I suggest we question Miss King before we query members of your regiment.” Fitzwilliam kept his tone mild, but the colonel’s agitation with Caroline over his wife’s whereabouts was obvious. Forester needed time to regain his composure, and Fitzwilliam found he was curious to learn more of Miss King’s involvement in events.

  Lydia Wickham’s quick accusations against Miss King remained foremost in his mind, as did her claim that Lizzy Darcy had murdered her husband. It was hardly likely the women worked together to murder Wickham. Fitzwilliam wanted to discover the reason Lydia Wickham was so quick to target her blame. However, after this latest interview with Miss Bingley, he was not convinced Colonel Forester shared the same intent after observing the flushed color in the colonel’s face when Caroline Bingley mentioned Mrs. Forester’s presence in the garden. Fitzwilliam was not pleased with the possibility that he was the only one with total focus on identifying the murderer.

  “I say, Colonel,” Colonel Forester squared his chin showing disagreement, but after a long stare at Fitzwilliam he gave a curt nod. “Very well, Bingley, if you would fetch Miss King.

  ***

  Miss King’s appearance as she entered the library was all that any man could desire in a female. Her petite form and easy grace spoke of good breeding, even if she had not been privy to a fortune until her uncle died. Her red hair, which Miss Bingley found so unfavorable, was very becoming, Fitzwilliam concluded. Many females present tonight should follow Miss King’s example on how to conduct oneself as a lady, Fitzwilliam decided as he acknowledged her presence with a slight bow. “Please, have a seat, Miss King.”

  Miss Kings’ cheeks blossomed with a becoming hint of pink, adding a startling emphasis to the bright blue color of her eyes, as she settled in a chair near the fire. “You wished to make inquiries of me, Colonel Fitzwilliam?”

  “We must, I fear.” Fitzwilliam suddenly felt he had both boots in his mouth as he turned his attention to the other two men. “We were informed that you are currently a guest at Lucas Manor, along with Colonel and Mrs. Forester. Might I inquire how long you have been acquainted with Sir William and Lady Lucas?”

  “Since my schooldays when I visited my uncle,” Miss King’s expression revealed her surprise at the question.

  Her forthright manner of response earned Fitzwilliam's good opinion. After dodging and bending in attempts to decipher Caroline Bingley’s comments, Miss King’s precise response was refreshing. Bingley seemed to agree, for he observed Miss King with a fascinated expression that gave Fitzwilliam a new thought. “So, you must be well acquainted with the Bennets.”

  “No,” Miss King’s cheeks seemed to flush a deeper rose color, “actually, I only met the Bennets after my uncle passed away.”

  “That seems unusual considering the small county and your acquaintance with Sir William. How can this be?”

  “Colonel,” Miss King’s wide eyes held nothing but honesty, “my uncle led a quiet life and I was not yet out of the schoolroom. Therefore, I did not attend social events when I visited him.”

  “I see, then you must have met Mr. Wickham about the same time you were introduced to the Bennets.” Fitzwilliam paced a step away and turned. “I mention this because it is common knowledge that your introduction to Mr. Wickham severed his attachment to Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Is that correct?”

  More color rushed to Miss King’s cheeks, yet she held her head high as she returned his gaze. “Colonel, I knew of no—”

  “Miss King.” Fitzwilliam stopped pacing and kept his tone even. “I need to inquire whether you harbored any ill will toward Mr. Wickham because he turned his attentions from you, and married Lydia Bennet.”

  “Colonel,” Miss King’s laugh was a soft, melodious sound in the grim surroundings of the room, “pray do not think harshly of me for speaking bluntly of the dead, but I wished to be rid of Mr. Wickham’s attentions. When I discovered his interest was in the funds I inherited rather than in me, I enlisted the help of my uncle’s solicitor to end the engagement. Therefore, I can honestly say I harbored nothing but good will toward Mr. Wickham and his wife.”

  “Yet Mrs. Wickham—”

  “I cannot think as to why Mrs. Wickham spoke the words she did. Perhaps the shock of hearing that her husband was dead rendered her senseless for a moment. Is it any wonder she spoke such nonsense? After she had time to regain her calm, I am convinced she would not have made such claims. I regret my presence caused her discomfort, but I must remind you that she made the same charge against her own.”

  With a nod, conceding her words were true, Fitzwilliam asked, “Did you speak with Mr. Wickham in the garden this night?”

  “Colonel, I did not observe any sign of Mr. Wickham's presence in the grounds while I was there.”

  “Then you cannot be certain Mr. Wickham ever left the house?”

  “I observed Mr. Wickham leave the ballroom.” Miss King paused as she studied the two officers through her lashes. “I also noticed a number of guests followed him out—”

  “Miss King, for one who claims no interest, Mr. Wickham seemed to attract much of your attention. Do you have an explanation as to why you were so observant of his actions, if you truly harbored no ill will for his past behavior?”

  Color drained from Miss King's cheeks. “I was...I needed—”

  “Do continue, Miss King.” Fitzwilliam encouraged in a mild, yet slightly suspicious tone.

  “Actually, Colonel, it was one of Mr. Wickham’s friends who was the focus of my attention. I observed Mr. Wickham's movements merely because of who left the room after his departure.”

  “If this is true,” after remaining silent for a considerable time, Colonel Forester's tone sliced through the room, “then I insist you identity of those guests, Miss. King.”

  Fitzwilliam focused his attention on Colonel Forester. The colonel's tone was badgering rather than an attempt to
gain Miss King's cooperation. Fitzwilliam wondered why the colonel would use such a sharp tone to a fellow guest at Lucas Lodge. Had something occurred before Sir William's party reached the ball?

  Intent on finding answers to these new questions, as well as identifying the murderer, Fitzwilliam kept his voice low as he said, “Take time to gather your thoughts, Miss King. I am certain you wish to find the murderer’s identity as much as do we.”

  “How can you be so certain of that point, Colonel?” Colonel Forester rocked on his heels as he studied Fitzwilliam. “Perhaps this young woman has something to hide.”

  “Colonel Forester, I beg you to keep a civil tone when speaking to my wife’s guests.” Bingley stepped forward before Fitzwilliam could object to the colonel’s implications.

  “This meandering line of questioning must cease. We need to identify the person responsible for this crime. The killer could strike again while we ask the guests senseless questions, and I have no wish to deal with the consequences. My wife is in that ballroom without my protection.” Colonel Forester angled his chin, obviously daring either of them to deny his words as fact.

  “I agree wholeheartedly, Colonel” Fitzwilliam said. “However, we accomplish nothing if we alienate the guests. Surely you are in agreement that we need their cooperation.”

  “We need details that will identify the murderer and we need them now.”

  “Very well, Colonel. As you are correct in your concern and wish only to prevent more harm, I will reply in turn. If it will assist your investigation I admit I followed Captain Carter from the ballroom.” Miss King’s cheeks deepened in color but she held her head high.

  “Did Captain Carter follow Mr. Wickham?” Colonel Forester demanded as he leaned over her.

  “I should think not.” Miss King frowned. “Captain Carter was one of the last to leave the ballroom.”

  ***

  “We accomplished nothing.” Colonel Forester slapped his hand against his thigh after the door closed behind Miss King. “An heiress pursued by a fortune hunter, who then broke her heart. No news in that, unless Miss King harbored enough anger to wish Wickham harm.”

 

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