Page 107 of A Matter of Murder

Sally’s gaze darkened. “I never did like her.”

“She was working with Lady Catherine this entire time?” Charlotte asked.

“Yes! I can’t explain it all, but we need to get her away. But there’s only one entrance, and if we all run in, she might hurt them.”

Sally nodded. “So we lure her out. You wait here. But be prepared to move.”

Before Lizzie could ask Sally what she intended to do, Sally slinked away, whistling a jaunty tune. Charlotte looked down at Lady Catherine. “Is she dead?”

“I hope not, because I would like to kill her myself,” Lizzie said. She reached down and unclipped Guy’s leash. “Help me.”

With Charlotte’s help, the two of them managed to awkwardly bind Lady Catherine’s hands behind her back with the leash. Lizzie picked up the pistol. “Do you know how to use this?”

Charlotte nodded and held out her hand. “You go. I won’t let her out of my sight.”

Lizzie squeezed her best friend’s shoulder once, then crept back through the woods toward the grotto. She wanted to run but was afraid doing so would draw too much attention. When she drew close, she sidled up to the back of the grotto and peered inside the glassless window. Georgiana and Darcy were still where they’d left them, but Agnes was looking toward the door, head cocked. Lizzie could hear Sally whistling, and Agnes was clearly suspicious. Agnes grabbed at Georgiana, who whimpered, and pulled her away from Darcy. Lizzie saw light glint off a blade that Agnes held under Georgiana’s chin.

“Who’s there?” Agnes shouted, making her voice sound high and scared—but Lizzie knew well enough by now that it was an act.

“It’s Sally Burton, Agnes. I believe you stole something from me.”

Lizzie saw Agnes go stiff and then propel Georgiana out the door and up the steps in front of her, knife still held to the younger girl’s throat. “Sally Burton. You’re a long way from home.”

“I’d say the same about you, except that I’m beginning to suspect everything you told us was a lie,” Lizzie heard Sally say.

“Not everything,” Agnes said. “But most, I admit. I can’t help it if Meryton is full of a bunch of blathering fools.”

Agnes was fully outside the grotto now, and Lizzie couldn’t see her or Sally or Clara, but she could hear them well enough. Darcy was left alone, still tied up. This was her chance. Carefully, she began to climb through the window.

“Aye, we have our share of fools, but they’re our fools. We don’t take kindly to people using us.” Sally still sounded unbothered, as if she were encountering a neighbor on a walk into the village.

“I would apologize, but it turns out I’m not very sorry,” Agnes said. “After all, it wasn’t as though any of the treasure was yours to begin with.”

Lizzie lowered herself into the grotto, dropping to the stone floor with a muffled “Oof!” Darcy turned to look at her, his eyes wide. She held up a finger to her lips.

“Well, it certainly wasn’t yours,” Sally said. “Three generations of my family have given our entire lives to Netherfield Park. That gives us more of a right to it than you.”

Darcy struggled against his bindings when he saw her. She reached for the gag first. When it fell from his mouth, Darcy gasped. “Georgie?”

“Outside, with Agnes,” Lizzie whispered, moving on to the knots at his wrists. “Sally is our distraction.”

“I left the silver,” Agnes said, her voice carrying into the grotto. “I had a feeling it wasn’t the extent of the treasure, and I figured I could rattle you all into revealing it. And wasn’t I right? The wealthy hang diamonds in their unused ballrooms while the rest of us struggle and starve for a living—and you were complicit!”

The ropes around Darcy’s hands finally began to loosen, and she helped him shed them and sit up. Darcy tried to work at the knot in the rope around his feet, but his hands were purple, andhe was having trouble making his fingers work. “I’m sorry I lured you here,” he whispered. “They made me write that note.”

“Shh,” she reassured him. She should have known—when in his life had he ever signed a note to her with his given name?

“Don’t talk to me about being complicit,” Sally snapped, and Lizzie heard the first hint of anger in her voice. “I used Mrs. Bingley’s silver to make life better for the people of Meryton—with her blessing. That’s a far cry from you, who stole what wasn’t yours out of greed.”

The knot finally loosened, and Lizzie pulled at the ropes, finding enough slack for Darcy to pull his feet free. He got to his feet but stumbled, and Lizzie clung to his arm, not wanting to draw Agnes’s attention. “She has a knife!” she warned in a whisper.

But Darcy was wild-eyed, desperate to get to Georgiana. Lizzie picked up a length of discarded rope and pulled it taut in her hands. “Stay back,” she warned. Lizzie crept across the grotto’s stone floor as quietly as she could, and up the steps. Agnes’s back was to her, and she held Georgiana tightly. Sally saw Lizzie coming, but her face betrayed nothing.

“You act as though you’re so superior, but you’re your mother’s daughter. You concealed a crime for your own advantage. You protected a killer, and you have the audacity to lecture me? You’re no better than me.”

“At least she’s not a killer herself!” Clara Jeffries shouted, popping out of the brush and hurling a rock in Agnes’s direction.

Agnes jerked back, and Lizzie bit down on her tongue to holdin her gasp—Georgiana! But Clara’s interjection was enough to startle Agnes, and Sally charged forward, grabbing at the arm that held the knife and wrestling it away from Georgiana’s neck. Agnes was unbalanced enough that she let go of Georgiana, who dropped to the ground with a strangled cry. Agnes stumbled back, but she still held the knife, and she slashed it at Sally, the tip catching her forearm. The other girl hissed in pain, and Lizzie lurched into motion, throwing her length of rope over Agnes’s head and pulling back with all her weight.