Page 44 of A Matter of Murder

“Maybe,” Lizzie said, “but I think we were purposefully misled. I keep thinking back about it now, and Sally was careful to not refer to her grandparents in the present tense. Almost as if she wanted us to believe they were no longer with us.”

“And I suppose she did that because she wanted us tonotdo what we’re about to?”

“Very likely,” Lizzie said cheerfully. The cottage was in sight, and although Darcy couldn’t see any activity around it, it looked far from neglected.

“What is our plan?”

Lizzie bit her lip. “We’re outsiders here. I don’t think we’ll be able to fool any locals into telling us what we want to know, so...”

“So we’ll just have to rely on our natural charms,” he deadpanned.

Lizzie let out a snort. “You can be almost charming when you put your mind to it.”

“Which is more effort than I am typically inclined to expend, but today I shall make an exception.”

The Burtons’ cottage was a small, one-story stone home surrounded by a stone fence that enclosed a tidy, well-kept garden. Darcy caught sight of an old woman sitting on a bench under a nearby tree. She held a piece of knitting, and she didn’t seem to notice as they approached.

“Hello?” Lizzie called out. “Good morning, madam.”

The woman looked up slowly and blinked at them in surprise. Then her face broke out into a happy smile. “Oh, hello!”

Darcy couldn’t help the small bow that his deeply instilled manners prompted. “Good day, madam.”

The old lady laughed, sounding delighted. “My, aren’t you handsome?”

“Uh...” Darcy did not know how to respond to that. Then he realized that she was talking to Guy, who had approached the woman and sat at her feet, looking up with mournful brown eyes. Darcy cleared his throat in embarrassment.

Lizzie, however, grinned. “He is, isn’t he?”

The woman set aside her knitting and offered a hand to Guy, who sniffed it and then happily allowed her to pet him. “Is he yours?” the lady asked.

“He is indeed, although I like to think I am his as much as he’s mine.”

Guy flopped onto the ground, exposing his pink belly for scritches. The woman chuckled and complied. “Hello, handsome. Aren’t you a handsome one?” When she looked up, she said to Lizzie, “Hold on to the handsome ones, miss.” Then her gaze slid to Darcy, and she added, “But only if their hearts are true.”

Lizzie laughed. “Thank you for the advice. Are you Mrs. Burton?”

The woman didn’t respond, but neither did she refute Lizzie. She gave Guy another pat.

“I’m Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and this is Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

At that, Mrs. Burton looked up, something like alarm in her eyes. “Oh my! A lady and gentleman come to visit, and I’ve made no preparations!” She made to stand, slowly, and Darcy winced at her pained movements—it appeared as though her joints troubled her.

“Oh, no—please stay seated,” he said, taking Mrs. Burton’s hand and guiding her back down to her seat. “We don’t wish to inconvenience you.”

“It’s no trouble,” she insisted, but she didn’t try to rise again. “But where is Amy? She really ought to be seeing to you.”

Darcy exchanged a puzzled look with Lizzie, who kept her smile gentle and polite, but didn’t seem to know who Amy was, either. “We’re quite all right as we are, Mrs. Burton,” Darcy said. “But thank you for your concern.”

Mrs. Burton smiled and Lizzie continued. “I’m afraid the reason for our visit is a little unconventional, Mrs. Burton. As we mentioned, we’re staying at Netherfield Park. My sister is Mrs. Bingley.”

Almost instantly, the good humor drained from the woman’s face. “You’re staying at Netherfield Park?”

“Yes,” Lizzie continued brightly. “We’ve only recently arrived, but—”

The woman’s wrinkled hands grabbed at Lizzie’s. “You must not stay there. Did your sister not warn you?No oneis to stay there.”

The forcefulness of her words gave Darcy pause. He did not believe for a solitary moment that Netherfield Park was actually cursed, but the vehemence in Mrs. Burton’s voice was real. Was she... scared?