Page 47 of A Matter of Murder

Lizzie tried once more. “Mr. Burton, please understand—he was aperson. If you lost a loved one with no explanation, wouldn’t you want someone to find out the truth about what happened to them?”

Darcy watched Mr. Burton’s face—he was not taken in by Lizzie’s emotional entreaties. A bushy gray eyebrow rose, and he said, “And you, a stranger to Netherfield and this county, are just the person to right this wrong?”

“Why not?” Lizzie asked. “My sister is the new mistress of Netherfield Park, and this discovery certainly hasn’t done any favors for her reputation.”

Mr. Burton let out a small guffaw. “Aye, that’s the most honest thing you’ve said to me yet, Miss Bennet.”

“Both reasons can be true, though,” Lizzie argued. “I can want to both help my sister and find the truth.”

“A word of advice, Miss Bennet? Let it lie. Bad things have happened at Netherfield Park. Mrs. Bingley was unhappy there, and her husband and his family before her. If you care for your sister, then encourage her to go back to London. Now, good day.”

He turned and walked back to the cottage as fast as his two legs and cane would take him, leaving Lizzie, Darcy, and Guy standing in the garden. But Darcy had one last question he couldn’t let rest. “Mr. Burton?” he called. “Who is Amy?”

The old man stopped. He turned slightly. “Sally’s mother,” he said gruffly.

“Oh,” Lizzie said. “And she—”

“She’s dead,” he said abruptly. “Died of a fever, although those fools in the village will probably tell you the Netherfield curse got to her, too.”

And with that, he walked into the cottage and slammed the door behind him.

Darcy looked down at Lizzie. “What do you think?”

“I think,” she said slowly, thoughtfully, “that I can’t believe you know how to knit.”

“After all that, my knitting abilities are what you’ve focused on?”

“That,” she said, “and the Burtons are most definitely hiding something.”

Twelve

In Which Lizzie and Darcy Take an Unplanned Detour

Lizzie stood at the corner where the path to the Burtons’ cottage diverted from the lane, uncertain. She felt as though they were dancing around the edge of something, but she didn’t know what.

“Are you all right?” Darcy asked.

She nodded, although she didn’t feel particularly confident. “How can a dead man appear out of nowhere, and no one has any idea as to who he might be?”

“It’s possible that they truly don’t know,” he suggested, although he didn’t sound convinced himself. “Fifty years is a long time.”

Lizzie nodded, but she wasn’t entirely convinced. Unless the body had been placed in the flue during the time when all the household staff had fallen sick but before the Burtons had returned to work... But how long did a body smell? She would put the question to Marianne Dashwood in a letter as soon asthey returned to Netherfield, and hoped she would receive a quick response.

“I know you’re not about to give up,” Darcy said, nudging her arm. She looked up at him and gave him a look, and he grinned. “Why don’t we walk into the village? We’re already halfway there. We can see if Miss Jeffries has made any progress on those registers.”

“All right,” she agreed, “although I am not sure she’s the type to take well to being pressured.”

“I paid her fifteen shillings apiece for those registers—she should feel pressured,” Darcy grumbled, making Lizzie laugh.

It was a lovely morning for a walk—bright and cloudless but not too warm. Guy happily trotted along, although he wanted to stop and sniff every five or six paces, which meant their progress was not quick. As they walked, Lizzie realized that in her anger toward Darcy and her father as they’d left London, and then in the excitement over a new case, she and Darcy hadn’t really talked in days.

“How is your sister?” she asked, causing Darcy to turn to her in surprise. “I never did ask—did you tell her about leaving London?”

“I did,” he said. “Hopefully she’ll have gotten the letter by now.”

“And did you tell her the reason for our leaving?”

He nodded. “I don’t keep secrets from Georgie. Sometimes I may downplay certain dangers, to keep her from worrying, but... I don’t lie to her. She deserves that, at least.”