by Emma Osborne
According to Mrs. Forster, Colonel Forster and the Meryton regiment had welcomed the cadre of militia that had arrived in search of the young man who had… expired on the polished floor of the assembly room. “It was most unexpected, and Colonel Forster was most distressed that he was forced to write a lengthy letter explaining everything to the poor man’s mother in Norwich! After everything that happened!” Mrs. Forster had fanned herself agitatedly in the heat of the parlor, and everyone in the room, aside from Lydia, who leaned forward eagerly, shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
“It was perfectly beastly! Denny told me that the man was torn to pieces! They found his horse in the woods!” Lydia was enjoying the effect that her pronouncement had on the others far too much, and Elizabeth hissed at her to be quiet.
“But Lizzy, it’s true! Denny told me so! It was half eaten and everything. Gruesome!” Lydia laughed gaily, and it was very clear that she did not find the news gruesome at all.
“Oh, Lydia, really!” However, and as per usual, Lydia was not listening to her mother, and her eyes were wide with excitement as she listened to Mrs. Forster tell her story.
“The officers who come under Colonel Forster’s command are from London or other parts of the countryside nearby, but these men were very different from our regiment. Most of them were from abroad! They had been fighting against Napoleon, and now they were come to the country, but I cannot determine the reason and Colonel Forster will not tell me for all my pleading.” Mrs. Forster pouted prettily, and Elizabeth noticed Kitty mimicking the expression behind her fan. She narrowed her eyes and her normally mild dislike of Mrs. Forster grew just a little.
“Denny told me that there are some soldiers coming from Prussia, which is ever so exciting. I do hope that Colonel Forster will plan a dance to welcome them. It only seems proper, does it not, Mama?” Mrs. Bennet, who had only come down to the parlor because Lydia had begged her in desperate tones not to embarrass the family in front of Mrs. Forster. Mrs. Bennet was wrapped in white lace coverlets and propped up on the fluffiest pillows that could be managed. She was full of sighs and quiet coughs, and dabbed at her face with her handkerchief intermittently throughout Mrs. Forster’s visit, but the younger woman paid her very little attention, choosing instead to focus her attentions on an eagerly attentive Lydia.
Mrs. Bennet groaned and fussed in her seat, and Jane rose to help her sit more comfortably and brought her some more tea. “Mrs. Forster, I cannot be the only one who is utterly undone by the tragedy! I confess that I am astounded by the callous attention that the whole affair is being paid by everyone! Especially you, Lydia! Even you, Kitty! That poor man is dead and who knows what might be the cause of his injuries!” Mrs. Bennet dabbed at her eyes once more and sipped dramatically at the tea Jane brought her as Mrs. Forster turned with wide eyes towards her hostess.
“Oh, no, Mrs. Bennet. The Colonel is very sure of what caused the young man’s injury. Very sure indeed!” Lydia leaned forward expectantly, and even Mary looked up from her book with an expression of mild interest on her face. Mrs. Forster was enjoying the suspense, and a look of sly cunning crossed her pretty features. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. She had no time for pageantry, but there was no way to rush someone like Rosalind Forster when she had an opportunity like this one. “Why, do you not know? Surely you must have guessed?” Lydia shook her head, her eyes wide and shining. Mrs. Forster laughed prettily and Elizabeth tried very hard not to let her annoyance show on her face.
“Several of the officers went into the woods that the young man had come from, and when they found his horse, they found animal tracks!” Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief, and Mrs. Forster noticed immediately. “Do you not believe me? But of course you do not, Lizzy Bennet is too high-minded for these sorts of things. It is not a fancy, Lizzy. I have it from the officers themselves!” Mrs. Forster’s voice was indignant, and Elizabeth was glad that she had not said anything. She did not flinch away from Mrs. Forster’s gaze, and the younger woman soon grew tired of the silence and turned back to Lydia.
“Come, have a guess, Lydia. What kind of tracks do you think they found?” Lydia appeared to be thinking hard, and Kitty bounced in her chair before shouting out her answer.
“Horses!” Kitty covered her mouth with her fan, clearly not meaning to be quite so loud in her mother’s parlor. Mrs. Forster threw Kitty a pitying look.
“Of course they found hoof prints, Kitty, dear. They had found the thoroughly mangled corpse of one that had no doubt been carrying the young man who burst into the party.” Mrs. Forster’s words dripped with honeyed condescension and Kitty blushed furiously and hid her face behind her fan once more, muttering to herself quietly about the unfairness of it all.
“Dogs?” Lydia’s guess was more careful than Kitty’s had been, but Mrs. Forster raised an eyebrow in response.
“Very close, Lydia… but do you think dogs could have given such grievous wounds to a horse? Especially a large one bred for military use? Think carefully, my dears. Oh, this is too much!” Lydia gnawed on her lip as Mrs. Forster clapped her hands with morbid glee. Elizabeth looked over at her elder sister, but Jane had busied herself with fussing over Mrs. Bennet, who appeared to be growing less enthused by Mrs. Forster’s presence with each passing moment.
“Wolves. It was wolves wasn’t it.” Mary’s statement was not a question, nor was her voice hesitant or shy. Elizabeth turned to her stoic younger sister, who had stunned them all with her interjection. Mrs. Forster looked dismayed that her game had been ruined and Lydia shot a dirty look in Mary’s direction. Satisfied that she was correct, Mary turned her attention back towards her book. “It seems like a natural guess. What other animal leaves similar footprints to the Colonel’s hunting dogs. I am sure he was quite relieved that his hounds were excused from the crime. However, with the size of the horse that was felled, and the wounds that the officer displayed, and the amount of blood loss, it is an easy puzzle.” Mary delivered these words as a blunt monotone, her eyes focused on the page of the book in front of her. Mrs. Forster crossed her arms over her small breasts and frowned.
“Mary! You are insufferable!” Lydia’s face was red and it was clear that she felt the need to defend Mrs. Forster’s game, and Elizabeth did her best to cover her smile. It was not often that Mary got the better of her sister, and Elizabeth was enjoying it on her behalf. Mary did not look up from her book, but her calm voice sounded loud in the parlor when she spoke again.
“However, it is impossible. The last wolves in England were eradicated long ago. There have been stories about sightings in Scotland, but I do not put much stock in them.” Mrs. Forster huffed grumpily at having the thrilling end to her story stolen by Mary’s logical answers.
“Well, thanks to Mary there is no more story to tell! How did Colonel Forster react, pray tell us, I am all amazement that something so exciting should happen so close to Longbourn! Nothing exciting ever happens here!”
“Lydia! There is nothing exciting about the way that young man died, and you should be grateful that nothing as exciting, as you call it, happens here! My nerves would not bear it!” Mrs. Bennet’s face was flushed, and her expression was one that Elizabeth recognized as the harbinger of an outburst that would no doubt send Mr. Bennet into his study for the remainder of the evening. Lydia sighed and leaned back in her chair with a sullen look upon her face, but Mrs. Forster was not finished with her tale, and Elizabeth noticed a smug look on the young woman’s face.
“Mary does not know everything, Lydia.” Mrs. Forster’s loud whisper was conspiratorial, and Elizabeth turned a suspicious ear in their direction as Lydia gasped. She turned her head just in time to see Mrs. Forster pull a small velvet bag from her bodice and hold it out towards Lydia, snatching it out of the girl’s grasp when Lydia reached for it.
“Now, now! Patience. You are horrid at guessing games, Lydia my dear, so I will not make you do it again.” With delicate fingers, Mrs. Forster tugged the golden strings that held the l
ittle bag closed, and tipped a white object into the palm of her hand. Lydia’s hands flew to her mouth, and Elizabeth craned her neck to see what the object was. It was long and pointed, a pearly triangle with a sharp tip.
“What is it, Jane? I cannot see!” Mrs. Bennet’s voice rang out above the hush that had fallen over the room. Lydia used her mother’s distraction to leap from her chair and snatch the item from Mrs. Forster’s hand. She held it to the light and examined it closely, ignoring her friend’s shocked outcry.
“Mama, look. It is a piece of ivory, I think. But I cannot be sure!” Lydia approached her mother’s divan with her hand outstretched; the object nestled in her palm. Mrs. Forster made as if to rise from her chair, but Lydia was too fast for her, and she dashed out of Mrs. Forster’s reach with ease.
“Lydia, be careful! Please!” Lydia pinched the object between her thumb and forefinger and held it towards Mrs. Forster, her brow arched playfully.
“I shall not lose it. Do not be so dramatic, Rosalind. Here, I will return it to you at once if it means that much to you.” Mrs. Forster held out her hands, and Lydia took two steps towards her, but then paused and looked at the item once more.
“What is it? You must tell me, and then I will return it to you safely.” Mrs. Forster’s face twisted briefly, but before she could respond, Mary looked up from her book once more.
“It is a tooth, Lydia. Can you not see that? Do you remember when Mama’s friend Mrs. Beeton came to visit, and she brought her little dog? I cannot recall his name, but he bit Kitty when she tried to pet him. That looks very like one of his teeth, does it not, Kitty?” Lydia laughed loudly at Mary’s observation as Kitty blushed furiously. She said nothing and did not confirm her sister’s observation, but Lydia’s reaction was enough to make Elizabeth take more interest in the item she held.
“Yes! Yes, Lydia is it a tooth!” Mrs. Forster fairly shouted the words, startling Lydia enough to cause her to drop the tooth she held. Lydia gasped and threw herself to the floor to retrieve it as Mrs. Forster gasped in horror. “Give it to me! Give it back!” Lydia rose triumphantly with the tooth clutched in her fist and gave it back to Mrs. Forster with a wary look on her face.
Mrs. Forster put the item carefully back into its velvet bag and tucked it out of sight once more. “If Colonel Forster knew that I had taken it... you must promise me that you will not speak of this to anyone! Promise me!” Elizabeth knew better than to trust any promise that Lydia made, but Mrs. Forster looked relieved when Lydia offered her fervent promise to keep silent and tell no one of what she had seen.
“Where did it come from?” Elizabeth could not keep the question from her lips, even though she felt that she knew the answer already.
“From the body of the horse. One of the officers pulled it from the leg bone of the horse... Colonel Forster did not think that I could see it when he took it out to show the doctor. They said it was the tooth of a wolf! The doctor told Colonel Forster that he had not seen one like it since he was in Prussia with the army. He was most amazed!” Elizabeth could not help the chill that ran down her spine as Mrs. Forster explained the origin of the tooth.
“Now, I do apologize, Mrs. Bennet, but I must get back. If the Colonel discovers that his prize is missing... he will never forgive me if he discovers that I have taken it!” Mrs. Forster’s eyes shone with desperation, and Elizabeth and Jane rose from their seats to escort their guest from the parlor. Mrs. Forster wiped at her face and swept into her carriage with only the briefest of apologies for her hasty departure.
Elizabeth and Jane stood in the doorway watching the carriage pull away, Lydia bouncing between them as she talked excitedly about what they had seen, and what she thought about the new officers coming to Meryton and how thrilling Mrs. Forster’s news had been. Jane and Elizabeth exchanged glances over their sister’s head, but they said nothing. Lydia might find Mrs. Forster’s news exciting, but Elizabeth worried that there was something more sinister behind what had happened, and she did not relish the discovery of the truth.
Chapter 3
There was nothing that Fitzwilliam Darcy liked more than feeling the movement of his horse beneath him as they galloped over the countryside together, their bodies moving in time with one another, each anticipating the terrain and the cues of their path. When he was at Pemberley, the country was as familiar to him as the smooth lines on his palm. However, he was not riding the broad expanse of his estate now; today he was galloping across the green fields that surrounded his good friend Charles Bingley’s new home. He looked over at the young man beside him; Charles Bingley sat comfortably in his seat, and Darcy judged that his friend was nearly as fine a horseman as he was. There were some skills that he judged harshly in gentlemen, and confidence in the saddle was one of them. Being able to not only master the beast beneath you, but to also be attuned to the noble creature’s moods and capricious nature was a good measure of the kind of man as any. Darcy had met many men who treated their mounts like dumb beasts, and he was confident that his judgement of their deficient character was warranted.
In Darcy’s eyes, Netherfield Park, situated on a pleasing aspect overlooking a particularly pastoral section of the Hertfordshire countryside, was ideally suited for Charles Bingley. It was nothing to Pemberley, but that could not be expected so close to London. If nothing else, Darcy was pleased to see that his friend was finally taking some time to appreciate the countryside. He had been too long in London, and it was high time that he stretched his legs as a gentleman of good fortune, and that meant enjoying the pleasures that having such wealth afforded him. The leasing of a country estate was precisely what Charles Bingley needed to encourage him to take the reins of his estate and emerge from the control of his overbearing, but well meaning, sisters.
Bingley reined in his horse abruptly, and Darcy pulled his own steed in a circle before wheeling back to where his friend had paused. “What is it, man? Are we not headed back to the house? I am suddenly starving.” Charles’ cheeks were pink with the exertion and he pulled his hat from his head to wipe a gloved hand across his sweating brow.
“Why don’t we take a detour through the forest. The sun is too hot, and I should like to see if we can spot the herd of deer that Mr. Morris said would be here.” Darcy tilted his head sharply, suppressing a sigh of annoyance. Charles had mentioned the deer when he had first signed the papers for the place, and Darcy wondered how much of a selling feature the wildlife was. Charles had been nearly obsessed by the deer that lived within Pemberley’s grounds for years, so he could not say that he was surprised to see Charles so pleased to have some of the magnificent beasts on his own land.
“Will you hunt them? Mr. Morris spoke of running a grand hunting party through the grounds some years ago. It could be good sport.” Charles looked stunned and placed his hat back upon his head with some urgency.
“I should think not! I would never dream of hunting such creatures! No, no indeed. I simply wish to watch them from the library window. Do not speak of killing them again, I will not hear of it!” Darcy chuckled quietly and smiled at his friend’s emphatic exclamation. It was very much as he had expected, but it was fun to tease Charles sometimes.
“Very well then, let us venture into the woods and see if we can hunt these magnificent creatures with our eyes instead of our rifles.” Charles relaxed visibly at Darcy’s affable tone, and he nudged his horse forward towards the trees that rose to their left.
The estate boasted a small but lush forest of pine and larch trees that flowed over the estate almost to the northern edge of the house where the ornamental trees that signaled the beginnings of the orchard and the gardens took over.
Charles pointed to a break in the tree line, “there. We’ll follow the animal trails.” Darcy nodded and pulled his hat down firmly on his head. There was nothing worse than losing a new hat to a stray branch. They urged their horses to a faster walk and entered the coolness of the woods. It was darker under the canopy, but it was a comforting darkne
ss as the whispering trees enveloped them. Rabbits scampered across the path and birdsong filled the air and Darcy allowed himself to relax just a little more. He loosened the reins and settled himself more comfortably in the saddle as the horses ambled through the woods. He breathed in the freshness of the forest and found himself missing Pemberley. Once Charles had settled himself here in Hertfordshire, it would be time to go home. Georgiana would be lonely in the large house all on her own and it would do him good to look after the tending of his own fish and game stocks.
Darcy’s horse paused mid-step and threw up its head. Nostrils flaring and ears flicking with alertness. Darcy leaned forward in the saddle to stroke the horse’s neck, crooning to it softly. He listened to the sounds of the forest, but he could hear nothing out of the ordinary. Bingley continued on ahead of him, oblivious to Darcy’s pause, his head whipping back and forth as he searched the foliage for any sign of the deer.
“Darcy!” Bingley’s voice was hushed, and Darcy looked up in surprise, wondering if his friend had heard anything. His horse was nervous, and had obviously caught the scent of something, but Charles’ mount seemed unaffected. He urged the steed forward and the animal snorted and whickered quietly before tossing its head and moving forward slowly. Its ears continued to swivel and it’s nostrils flared wide. Darcy was on edge, but Charles seemed focused on something else. He pointed through the trees.
“There. Just there. Do you see them, Darcy? Magnificent.” Bingley’s voice was hushed with awe, and Darcy looked in the direction that his friend demanded and squinted in the half-light, straining to see something.
There.
A flash of a dark hide. It had to be the deer. But the deer should have been russet brown, not the dark grey he had seen. He rubbed at his eyes and looked again, but there was nothing.
“Did you see it? Ah, magnificent. I wonder if it was a stag… I should very much like to find out. Come on, Darcy. Let’s go closer.” Without waiting for a response, Charles urged his horse forward, but his steed had also caught a strange scent on the wind, and it pranced sideways delicately, unwilling to move forward.