by Jennifer Joy
Lady Lucas shook her head emphatically. "No." She reached over and held Sir William’s hand. "I would rather only say what I must once."
"That is understandable, Lady Lucas," Lord Harvisham acknowledged.
A tea tray was brought in and ignored. As soon as the door shut behind the maid, Lady Lucas began her account.
"The day of the parade, I went into Meryton to meet with the other members of a secret group I am responsible for forming." Her eyes flickered over to Elizabeth. "This group began with the innocent purpose of discussing our mutual dislike for a certain lady."
Elizabeth's stomach clenched.
"Mrs. Bennet's comments, though thoughtless on her part, had, over the years, caused us all much grief. I have no doubt she never meant to speak maliciously, but I knew what she said of my daughters when she thought I could not hear her."
Elizabeth recalled how many times Mother had called Charlotte plain and ready for the shelf. How awful it must have been for Lady Lucas to hear her remarks … but an entire group of ladies? She remembered the motley assembly gathered the day of William's return, and it made sense. Each one of those women could easily have held a grudge against Mother.
Elizabeth wanted to ask why. Why had Lady Lucas allowed herself to be so offended she had formed a club against a woman she knew not to possess enough sense to change her ways or even be offended for more than a day were she to learn of its existence? It pained Elizabeth to admit as much about her own mother, but Mother had never allowed anyone or anything to stand between her and her purpose of seeing her daughters marry well. Like a horse with blinkers on, she would trudge through and tread over whatever obstacles awaited her, justified in her attention to her family. Not unlike Lady Catherine.
"The day of the parade, we met together to introduce a new member to our society. Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I will admit that having such an esteemed person within our ranks gave a certain validity to our purpose."
"Did Lady Catherine present herself?" asked Lord Harvisham.
William and Colonel Fitzwilliam sat on the edges of their chairs.
"I was told she did. However, she did not stay long. She departed before the parade."
William and Colonel Fitzwilliam exchanged a look. Where had Lady Catherine gone? Elizabeth wished to know too.
“You were not there to receive her?” Lord Harvisham asked.
“No. I arrived seconds before the parade began.”
"Lady Lucas," addressed the vicar, "what exactly was the purpose of your society?"
Lady Lucas looked down at her hands, picking at the tassel on the throw over her legs. "It seems so foolish now, and I deeply regret it. My intention in forming the LAMB society was —" She clipped her sentence short when Mr. Thorne raised his hand.
"LAMB society?" he asked.
"Ladies Against Mrs. Bennet." Lady Lucas' face blushed, as well it should. Seriously, did it not occur to at least one woman in their little group to object to such a ridiculous name for an equally ridiculous club?
"Ah," said Mr. Thorne, looking as uncomfortable as Lady Lucas did on her admission. "What was the purpose of your society?"
"It was innocent, I assure you. I merely grew tired of bearing Mrs. Bennet's insults. I only wanted someone to talk to; someone who could empathize with me and with whom I could seek and provide mutual comfort. Knowing the difficulties between Mrs. Burk and Mrs. Bennet, I brought the subject up with her. From there, she invited a few other ladies and some of the other business owners in the village. I had not intended for it to be anything so grand, but it grew of its own accord. Your wife, of course, refused to join our group, Mr. Thorne.”
Mr. Thorne seemed relieved to hear it.
She continued, “We gathered together once a week and aired our complaints against Mrs. Bennet over tea. Our intent was to comfort. Not to cause harm."
Lord Harvisham said, "Tell us what happened the day of Mrs. Bennet's murder."
Lady Lucas closed her eyes and gripped Sir William’s hand tightly. "I was late arriving to the meeting. When I arrived at the Burks' shop, the first person I saw was Mrs. Bennet. She seemed impatient. I asked if she was well, and she told me how she was seeing to the future of her daughters and she needed to speak to Mrs. Burk immediately. Then, she implied that I would not understand her haste as I did not, apparently, share the same concern for my own daughters as she did for hers." She stopped, raising her free hand to cover her face. Her chin quivered.
After some moments of silence, she continued, "Mrs. Bennet walked toward the back of the shop, looking for Mrs. Burk. I do not know what possessed me, but I … I pushed her. She stumbled forward, her foot catching against something. I reached out to her, but I could not stop her fall." She released her husband, burying her face in both of her hands.
Elizabeth's heart ached, knowing now how those same hands dripping with tears had reached out against her mother. She felt Charlotte loop her arm around her shoulders, and she was quick to wrap her arm around Charlotte's waist. They stood together, holding each other up as Lady Lucas cried.
"She hit her head against one of the writing tables. It was so loud, I feared all the ladies would hear it and run out to see what I had done. But they did not. I waited for Mrs. Bennet to get up, but she did not stir."
William asked, "Why did you not seek help? Surely, your friends would have believed it was an accident."
"I panicked. All I could think was that I had killed Mrs. Bennet. I left as quickly as I could. I stopped near the counter between the room where I knew the ladies were gathered and the door to the shop. At that moment, I wanted nothing to do with the club I had formed. I felt ill. I left the shop."
"And yet you returned. Why?" asked William.
"My conscience and the vain hope Mrs. Bennet had regained consciousness. I wanted nothing more than to enter the shop, find her standing, and beg for her forgiveness. Instead … there was so much blood … and I knew … I knew what I had done."
Looking directly at Elizabeth, she added, "My sin is unforgivable. I am sorrier than I can begin to tell you."
Chapter 25
Sir William, concerned with the health of his wife, begged for them to return at a later time for further questions. The gentlemen, on observing Lady Lucas' state, readily agreed. He stayed with her while Charlotte walked down the stairs beside Colonel Fitzwilliam, her eyes trained so firmly forward, it was obvious to Elizabeth that Charlotte wished to speak with the colonel. Would he pay any attention to the daughter of a murderess? Was Lady Lucas even guilty? By her own admission, she was, but there were small details missing and Elizabeth was not satisfied. Or could it be that her friendship with the Lucases clouded her judgment?
William fell in beside her, slowly descending the steps in silence. Everyone was in a pensive mood, and when Lord Harvisham stopped at the bottom of the steps, they grouped around him.
"Our visit today has been quite disturbing. Allow us to convey you home in my carriage, Miss Elizabeth. I believe you will want to be with your family now. Mr. Bennet will want to be kept abreast of our findings as this investigation continues. Miss Lucas, thank you for your assistance. I will return this afternoon. Please assure your mother and father that no arrest will be made today and to mention nothing of this to anyone else. There are certain matters which do not add up in my mind and require further study."
With that, they left. William handed Elizabeth into the carriage, the colonel riding beside the coachman to allow more room for the occupants inside.
The distance between Longbourn and Lucas Lodge was not great, but Elizabeth appreciated the time it afforded her to ask some questions of her own.
"Lord Harvisham, you mentioned you have doubts regarding Lady Lucas' involvement in my mother's murder? If you please, what are they?"
"The wound," he said simply.
Both William and Mr. Thorne agreed, William adding, "If she is responsible, which I also doubt, it does not explain why Lady Lucas seemed not to have seen any blood unt
il she returned to the scene. I do not recall seeing blood on the tables nor did Mrs. Burk mention cleaning it from her wares to sell."
Mr. Thorne nodded. "We would have heard about it had her goods been thus harmed. She would have added the cost of the damage to Mr. Bennet’s bill.”
Lord Harvisham said, “I am tempted to return to the shop and have another look. Perhaps we will come upon a dent in one of the tables and, with a little incentive, Mrs. Burk may be induced to recall more than what she has already told us."
Elizabeth sighed. She wished she could go with them. However, her family needed her. She had told Mrs. Hill to put water on to fill the bath for Father. He would need some convincing to leave his study — something which would not happen if she told Father what she had recently learned.
Still, she would be unable to leave Longbourn soon. That was what she hated the most: being stuck, unable to be of any assistance where she would rather be involved, and having time to ponder. She dreaded having so much time with her thoughts.
And then there was William. She was not ready to leave him yet. Elizabeth knew her strength; she knew she would manage well. However, with him, she felt up to any task. If she stumbled, he would catch her.
William met her gaze with a sad smile, reminding her to be of courage. She readied herself to depart from the carriage. Longbourn was near.
William said, "I will call later to speak with Mr. Bennet. I see no harm in speaking freely of the facts before you, Elizabeth, but I do not want for you to feel obliged to repeat certain indelicate details to him unless you feel it best for him to hear of them from you."
It was precisely what she needed to hear. He would come back. She would see him again. She would not have to tell Father the ugly news just yet.
"Thank you. I believe Father would prefer to hear the news from you."
Lord Harvisham asked, "How is your father, Miss Elizabeth? Has he improved since I last saw him?"
"I fear he has not. He and Mother …" she caught herself, slowing her thoughts before she revealed the nature of her parents' relationship to a stranger. A kind stranger, but a stranger still. "They did not always agree, but I do believe he misses her."
"I remember when my Maggie died. I felt lost without her, and it took a great deal of time to know what to do with myself with her gone. Your father is an intelligent man. He will soon find ways to occupy his mind and his time until the emptiness dulls and he can bear it."
Elizabeth suspected her father's despondency stemmed more from disorientation than desperation, but she thanked Lord Harvisham all the same. She liked to think she would be missed as Lord Harvisham had missed his wife when her life ended. Would William miss her? After a lifetime together, would he notice her absence beyond a fortnight?
The carriage jarred to a stop, and it was time to leave. William jumped out before the coachman could open the door to hand her out. She accepted his help, resting her hand atop his. A warm melting sensation ran up her arm and spread through her body. Her fingers tingled where William pressed them in his hand. She managed to get out of the carriage without melting into a puddle at his feet.
They stood thus until Colonel Fitzwilliam cleared his throat from the box above them. What a pest.
William glared at him, but the spell had been broken. Pulling his fingers away, Elizabeth clasped hers together to hold on to his touch — pretending she only rubbed her hands together and shivered from the cold. Proceeding thus to the house, she turned back to see William still standing by the carriage door, ensuring she made it safely inside. Like a sentry.
Jane came to her immediately and, once Elizabeth was reassured Lydia and Kitty were not nearby to hear and propagate Lady Lucas’ confession to all of Meryton, she gave her the details in short time.
Jane shook her head. "I cannot believe it. Lady Lucas is tender-hearted and kind. Mother's comments were often thoughtless, but surely, the jurors at the hearing will conclude it was simply a horrible accident."
"I wish it were as simple as that. Lady Lucas may not be sent to trial, but she will have to admit before all of Meryton how she acted against Mother. It will humiliate her. Granted, if she reserved more malice toward Mother, she would deserve it and I would not pity her as I do. Had Mother not tripped, I doubt Lady Lucas’ push would have caused her to fall as hard as she did."
"I cannot believe she intended to do permanent harm. She said she reached out to break Mother's fall? A woman seeking to harm would not have attempted to help."
The front door opened and a ball of curly fur raced across the door. Elizabeth heard Chloe's paws patting along the hall to scratch on Father's study door. Evidently, she gained entry, for the scratching soon stopped.
Lydia and Kitty followed closely behind, but Elizabeth overheard Lydia suggest they leave Chloe to cheer Father, and the steps creaked under them as they continued to their rooms, chattering about their visit to Aunt Philips.
"Did you notice Lydia is wearing mauve instead of black? Having a puppy to care for has brought a positive change to her. Perhaps she is right and Chloe will give Papa some cheer," Jane said in a low tone, even though nobody was around to hear them.
"Has he left his study today?" asked Elizabeth.
Jane sighed. "Mrs. Hill has had Cook busy heating water, but you know how much time that takes. I suspect she will emerge from the kitchen at any moment."
Several growls and scuffles preceded from the study and, seconds later, Chloe ran into the drawing room with her prize. She looked over her shoulder as if making certain she had not been followed, then plunked down on the rug in front of the fireplace to chew one of Father's slippers contentedly.
Father peeked into the room, spotting his prey. "You mangy cur, first my shoe and now my slipper."
Chloe looked up, sniffed, then returned to her all-important task of gnawing a hole in Father's slipper. She did not flinch when he stood over her, only growling and engaging in a game of tug of war when he reached down to retrieve the stolen item.
Eventually, Father won, but Chloe had left her mark. His toe poked out at the front of his slipper and he lifted his hands before him in disgust at the drool covering them and his foot.
"Infernal pest," Father grumbled.
Watching the struggle between the elderly man superior in size to the little ball of fluff who clearly had a quarrel with Father's shoes and had determined to destroy them, tickled Elizabeth's fancy. She clamped her lips shut, but when a chuckle escaped Jane, Elizabeth could contain her merriment no longer.
She expected Father to leave the room without a word, but he did not. He sat in the chair beside the puppy, took off his slipper, and handed it back to the little pilferer. "If it brings you joy, far be for me to keep it from you," he said, stroking her between the ears and smoothing her ruffled fur.
Stunned into silence, Elizabeth watched as he pet the animal he had cursed only seconds before. Chloe abandoned the slipper and attempted repeatedly to jump into his lap until Father finally scooped her up. She snuggled into his chest and licked his chin.
Elizabeth would not bring up anything to provoke his sadness, but she must warn him to prepare himself for a caller later that afternoon. "Father, Mr. Darcy wishes to call on you today. A bath is being readied so you will be prepared to receive him."
He patted Chloe absently, only looking down at her when she demanded his attention.
"I miss her, you know." His voice sounded gravelly from lack of use.
"You miss Mother?" Jane asked, prompting him to continue.
Father's chin quivered. "I was not a good husband to her, nor have I been a good father to my girls. She had her faults — as do we all — but no one could ever say Mrs. Bennet was not attentive. Now that she is not here, I feel her absence deeply."
"Do not say you have not been a good father," started Elizabeth.
He interrupted, "Why not? It is true. I have neglected my family's estate; I have not managed our affairs to our advantage merely out of spite for a cousin
I despise. I must admit I find Mr. Collins barely tolerable, but he does try to help in his own ridiculous way."
Elizabeth looked at Jane. She had forgotten about Mr. Collins.
Seeing her confusion, Father answered. "Once he determined I did not need, nor particularly want, his company, he departed for Netherfield Park to call on his esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh."
Jane shivered. "She scares me. I would much rather befriend Mr. Bingley's pernicious sisters than a dragon who would sooner swallow me whole than allow me a measure of happiness."
"Jane!" Elizabeth exclaimed.
Father clapped. "You have no idea how comforting it is to hear my conflict-averse, eldest daughter speak plainly and intelligently. Now that I am convinced you are not foolishly ignorant of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley's attitudes, you may have my full blessing to marry their brother. Mr. Bingley will be happy to gain a wife with a strong mind, though it be coated with soft velvet."
Jane froze, moving her hands from her skirt to her hair and back.
Father chuckled. "Do not suffer on my account. I have spent the past few days pondering many things. A blind man could have seen the signs. How long have you been engaged?"
Elizabeth gasped. Jane had said nothing to her.
Jane reached for her hand. "Do not be angry with me, please. I cannot bear it." She smiled sweetly, clasping her free hand to her heart.
“With such delightful news, it did not occur to me to be offended. But, Jane, why have you kept silent?”
"How is it just that I should feel so happy when tragedy has befallen us? It makes me feel guilty, even though I know Mother would have rejoiced to know Charles had asked me to marry him. We chose not to announce our engagement when Mother …"
"He asked you the day of the parade?" Elizabeth asked. Talk about poor timing. Oh, poor, poor Jane.
"Janey,” said Father, “if you think setting aside your happy future will in some way lessen my suffering, I beg you to reconsider. I am determined to do better by my responsibilities, as Mrs. Bennet would have wished. Mr. Bingley is a kind man and he will treat you well."
