Page 10 of A Matter of Murder

In Which Lizzie and Darcy Make a Wager

Of all the foolish things Lizzie could imagine Darcy doing on this holiday, pulling a literal skeleton from the walls of Netherfield Park was the least of them.

Most of the ladies became hysterical, of course. Caroline, Kitty, and Lydia wouldn’t stop screaming, and Mrs. Bennet had fallen into a swoon—a genuine one, probably, considering that she’d landed on the floor and not daintily on the settee or in someone’s arms. Jane was trying fruitlessly to get her sisters to calm down, and Charlotte looked as though she’d seen a ghost. Mary sat in the corner, features drawn into a worried expression, and Mr. Bennet tossed his newspaper aside and came to stand next to Bingley.

But Lizzie was scarcely paying attention to anyone else. She looked straight at Darcy, whose mouth had fallen open with shock, and put her hands on her hips and said, “Well, this is a fine mess you’ve pulled down onto Jane’s new carpet.”

“I was trying to unblock the chimney!”

“And you’ve accomplished it,” she said. “Shall we add chimney sweep to your list of credentials?”

“Lizzie, be serious. There’s a dead body in the hearth.”

She almost wanted to laugh then, but then remembered that she was cross with him.

“Is it really a dead body, sir?”

Lizzie had quite forgotten the maid, who had gone to cower behind a chair when the body had come tumbling down. Now she stepped forward timidly, scarcely able to look at the bundle.

Lizzie looked down at the skull, which she realized with fascinated horror still had a fair amount of dark hair attached to it. “It would appear so.”

The maid began to tremble, and a strange hiccupping sob slipped out of her. “I can’t—I can’t be here!”

“I know it’s upsetting,” Lizzie said in her best soothing voice. “But—”

But... what? Lizzie hesitated on her next words.He’s long dead? You’re safe? Whoever killed him and stuffed him up the chimney is very unlikely to still be lurking around?

Lizzie didn’t know nearly enough about the situation to be reassuring. All she knew was there was abody. In Jane’sdrawing room.

“Sarah, you’re in shock,” Jane said, stepping forward to place a hand on the maid’s shoulder. “We all are. This is a dreadful thing, but I assure you, my sister is going to get to the bottom of this. Why don’t you sit down?”

But Sarah was shaking her head vehemently. “I can’t stayhere. I always thought it was merely stories, but I can’t work in a cursed place!”

“Sarah, please,” Jane tried again, but the maid shoved Jane’s hand away and took off toward the door, throwing it open and racing out into the hallway. “Oh, heavens—someone ought to go after her!”

“I agree,” Lizzie said. “I want to know what she meant by—”

Mr. Grigson burst into the room with an expression close to alarm. “I beg your pardon, sir,” he said, addressing Bingley, “but I just saw Sarah leave the drawing room at a run, and she went straight out the front door. I can only imagine what might have caused her to do such a thing, and I can assure you—”

He stopped when he saw what was lying in the hearth, and went white.

“Mr. Grigson, don’t you go running off, too,” Lizzie said.

“I-I-I... I see,” he said, although it was clear he did not. “Is that...?”

“I’m afraid so,” Bingley said, and then he turned to Lizzie and Darcy. “Whom does one call in a situation such as this? It seems as though it is much too late to call a doctor, but an undertaker does feel rather... preemptive, considering.”

Bingley didn’t say it, but Lizzie supposed he didn’t have to. Everyone knew there was no innocent reason for a body to be stuffed up the chimney.

Lizzie looked at the body more closely and realized that what she was looking at was no mere skeleton with hair. While the shape of many of the bones was clearly visible, somethinglike thin, brown leather stretched over the remains. Flesh, Lizzie realized. Or what was left of it. That explained then why there was still dark hair clinging to the skull, patchy and not very long, covering most of the head except where...

“Well, that’s something,” she muttered.

“What?” Darcy asked, pressing close behind her.

“I’m hardly an expert in anatomy, but what does that look like to you?”

Now Mr. Bennet and Bingley had joined in peering over her shoulder. It was her father who voiced what Lizzie had noticed. “Cracks.”