Page 24 of A Matter of Murder

“Of course,” she said.

Lizzie stepped forward, dragging Charlotte along, and pretended to admire the small selection of ribbons, using this as an opportunity to survey the rest of the women. There were about eight shoppers in total, all women ranging in age from a young teenage girl about Lydia’s age to a woman older than her mother. And every single one of them was doing their very best to study Jane, Lizzie, and Charlotte without appearing to care about them.

Lizzie let out a tiny sigh. Oh, how she loathed society’s games.

Jane approached a lady only a little older than themselves. “Miss Nelson, how lovely to see you again.”

Miss Nelson actually jumped, dropping the card of lace she’d been inspecting. She rushed to pick it up, and then when she had straightened back up said, “Mrs. Bingley! Hello!” as if she hadn’t seen Jane come in just moment earlier.

Lizzie felt her hands tighten into fists.

“How is your family?” Jane asked.

“Well,” Miss Nelson said. “And how is...”

The words seemed to die in her throat and she cast a nervous glance around the shop, as if hoping for someone to rescue her. Lizzie abandoned the ribbons and stepped around the display. “Hello,” she said. “I’m Miss Elizabeth Bennet, Jane’s sister from London. And this is our dear friend, Miss Lucas.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Miss Nelson said, although her expression seemed to say that this was not the distraction she had been looking for.

Lizzie affected a voice not unlike Lydia’s—breathy and overly enthusiastic. “We’ve been dying to visit, ever since Jane left us to marry Mr. Bingley. And everything about Meryton and the countryside is just so charming. Wouldn’t you agree, Charlotte?”

“Absolutely darling,” Charlotte added in a very impressive impersonation of a London lady’s drawl.

“It is so wonderful to meet one of Jane’s new friends,” Lizzie continued, having the distinct pleasure of watching Miss Nelson’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Oh, well... I don’t... I mean, the pleasure is all mine?”

“You must come to tea while we’re here—mustn’t she, Jane?”

“Of course,” Jane said, and it almost pained her to hear howeager her sister sounded. “You and your mother would be very welcome, Miss Nelson.”

“That’s very kind,” a flustered Miss Nelson responded. “But I just... well, you see, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to because... because... I fear... my mother would not allow it!”

And with that, Miss Nelson fled from the shop, the little bell tinkling sadly behind her.

Lizzie turned to face her sister. Jane had gone very, very pale, and her mouth had fallen open in shock.

“Is it true, then?” asked a woman with strawberry-blond curls. She abandoned the bolt of linen she’d been inspecting. “We heard that a body was discovered in your drawing room, and there can be no other reason why Mrs. Nelson wouldn’t allow Sophie to call.”

Her cheeks turned pink as soon as she said the words, as if she didn’t quite believe her own audacity, but this was exactly what Lizzie had been hoping for.

“It’s true, unfortunately,” she said gravely. “Some poor soul was stuck in the flue. It’s quite upsetting, of course. Mr. Bingley is making burial arrangements with the vicar.”

“Who was it?” another woman asked, this one a tall, thin lady wearing a pink lawn dress.

“We don’t know,” Lizzie said. “I’m afraid he’s been gone too long to tell. But...”

“But what?” the lady in pink asked.

“Oh, Jane, I hope I’m not overstepping?” Lizzie asked, fluttering her eyelashes at her sister, who stared back at her inwide-eyed shock. “It’s just that Mr. Bingley would very much like to learn his identity. He feels awfully sorry for what happened. What if the man had a family?”

The other ladies murmured in sympathy, and Lizzie heard one remark: “Can you imagine?”

Jane didn’t seem to have caught on to Lizzie’s scheme, but Charlotte was nodding in sympathy. “The poor family,” she said.

“Would any of you happen to know who it might be?” Lizzie asked.

“We’ve been racking our memories all morning,” said the lady with the strawberry-blond hair. “But no one has the faintest clue!”