Page 20 of A Matter of Murder
“Well, there’s not much he can do with skeletal remains.” Lizzie said. “But if he knows something he isn’t inclined to share...”
“Then it might suggest there is someone else who might know a thing or two about this stranger?”
“Well, at the very least it’s interesting,” Lizzie said. She shared what the maid Agnes had told her about the Netherfield curse, and Darcy looked nearly as baffled as she felt.
“It seems rather ghoulish that people believe this place is cursed,” he said. “There must be a story there.”
“And perhaps it’s tied to our dead man,” Lizzie said. She couldn’t help the twinge of excitement in her belly when she said that. She tried to ignore it. “All right, we need more information. There must be those who will be willing to talk to us.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Darcy said. “That’s why I came to find you. Bingley wants to drive into the village to speakwith the undertaker and vicar about putting the body to rest. I thought you might want to come along, make a few inquiries of your own?”
Lizzie was tempted to give in to childish refusal, but there was no denying it now—they had a case, and this case was sorely lacking in detail. Detail that could only be uncovered with a bit of sleuthing.
“Fine,” she relented. “But just because we have a new case—flimsy as it might be—doesn’t mean I’m abandoning the search for Lady Catherine.”
Rather than appearing chastised, Darcy just smiled and took her arm.
“Of course not. I never would expect you to give up on anything quite so easily.”
Six
In Which Darcy Acquires a Lead of His Own
Darcy felt the curious prick of eyes upon them as soon as their small party stepped out of the carriage in the middle of Meryton’s high street.
The village was both smaller and busier than Darcy had been expecting. As a market town, a number of shops lined the street, and the thoroughfare was busy with wagons and carts and plenty of pedestrians. Meryton boasted its own assembly halls, and on the outskirts of the village were barracks for the British Army. That said, Darcy was fairly certain he could have stood at the top of the street and looked all the way down to the end of the village and seen everything worth visiting in one glance.
“We’re still causing a bit of a stir,” Bingley muttered to him as he took Jane’s hand and helped her down from the carriage. “Newly up from London, restoring the old estate, and all that.”
“Of course,” Darcy said, but the looks they garnered were not merely curiosity or excitement—there were wary glances and darting eyes. Darcy knew without hearing any of the whispersthat the people of Meryton had heard about the dead man in the flue.
“All right, where is this haberdashery?” Lizzie asked as Darcy helped her out of the carriage. She sounded, unsurprisingly, cross. Darcy offered a hand to Charlotte, who emerged last from the carriage.
“There,” Jane said, tilting her head ever so slightly to a small shop with a display of ribbons in its front window. “And the milliner is next door.”
“How charming,” Charlotte said, taking in the village. “Well, this should hardly take any time at all, should it?”
“No,” Lizzie agreed. “But I fail to see how Meryton is so dangerous that I should require so much supervision.”
Bingley raised his brows, and Darcy gave a slight shake of the head. “It would be highly improper for you to go with Charles and Darcy by yourself,” Jane said, which had been her argument back at Netherfield when she insisted on accompanying them. She’d also invited Charlotte, and the other young lady had been quick to accept.
“I’m not making social calls,” Lizzie reminded her. “This is business.”
“And this isn’t London. This is the country,” Jane countered.
They’d made their plan in the carriage, and Darcy had been somewhat disappointed when Jane had insisted that Lizzie and Charlotte accompany her to the shops while Bingley and Darcy called on the vicar to discuss the dead man’s burial. Darcy had looked to his friend, wondering if he had been privyto Jane’s machinations, but Bingley looked just as surprised as Lizzie.
“Are you worried that I’ll say something improper to a man of the cloth?” Lizzie had asked her sister, sounding irritated.
“No!” Jane insisted. “But this way we can all speak with more people about... the unpleasant discovery. You know how ladies love to gossip.”
Lizzie didn’t argue, although Darcy didn’t miss her look of suspicion. Even so, he was surprised when she agreed, saying, “You can question the vicar without me, can’t you?” He’d agreed, although the point wasn’t that he needed her—he wanted her with him because he wanted her to stay invested in this case. But it seemed improper to argue when Jane was sitting across from him in the carriage, biting her bottom lip.
Now Bingley hovered next to his wife, looking uncertain. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?” he asked. “Darcy and I would be glad to accompany you inside.”
“It’s Meryton, not Mayfair,” Lizzie said, looking at her sister. “Right, Jane?”
“Right,” Jane replied, although she looked uncertain.