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Who Murdered Mr Wickham

Page 18

by Carol Hutchens


  “Perhaps you are being too kind to your friend’s widow. Remember, Mr. Wickham is dead. Could his wife be the murderer?” Colonel Forester stood so close Denny was forced to raise his head to meet the colonel’s stare.

  “Lydia would never harm Wickham. Of that I am certain.” Denny ran a finger inside his collar.

  “Very well, soldier, who would want to harm Mr. Wickham?”

  Denny swallowed and stared at his boots for long seconds before lifting his gaze to Colonel Forester. “I know of no one, sir.”

  “Yet Wickham owed debts to all he knew. I suspect there is not a man in the regiment but who loaned him coin.” Colonel Forester turned away and walked to the fireplace. “Are those men not angry over losing their money?”

  A sheepish grin covered Denny’s face. “Colonel, you know how Wickham was.” Denny glanced over to Colonel Fitzwilliam. “He could talk the fleas off a dog. We knew he was all talk and no pay.”

  “Much as I hate to admit, Denny, I am not removed from rumors of Wickham’s behavior.” Colonel Forester moved to stand over Denny again. “For this reason I must ask if you were annoyed with Wickham over something to do with your family?”

  Color rushed to Denny’s face. He glanced toward the door before he met the colonel’s stare. Clearing his throat, he admitted, “Months ago, it is true, I was displeased with Wickham. But we worked things out and were on friendly terms when he moved up north.”

  “What was the nature of your disagreement?”

  “It was a personal matter, sir.”

  “Ah, so you say.” Colonel Forester paced a few steps then turned back to face Denny. “You have a sister, perhaps?”

  “Wickham intended no harm, Colonel. My sister is young and not familiar with the actions of men in the militia. Once I explained their habits to her, things went back to normal.”

  “What are you concealing, Denny?”

  Bingley watched as Denny stared past the colonel’s shoulder instead of meeting his gaze. “My sister married her beau and settled down to married life. All is well.”

  Bingley recalled the whispers he had heard about Wickham and Miss Darcy, and later, his supposed elopement with Lydia Bennet. Without intervention, he had no doubt Wickham would not have married Lydia. Had Wickham misled Denny’s sister? Bingley suspected his actions were less than honorable, and Denny did seem to be hiding something. Had Wickham stirred more trouble than Denny wanted to admit? Was Denny hiding details of his disagreement with Wickham because he had taken measures into his own hands?

  “You settled your differences with Wickham before he moved north?” Colonel Forester asked again.

  “We are friends, least, we were before his murder.” Still, Denny avoided Colonel Forester’s gaze.

  “Did you speak with Mr. Wickham after he arrived at the ball?” Colonel Forester demanded.

  “Only in passing,” Denny shrugged, “Lydia’s family crowded around before we could exchange more than greetings, but we were going to meet in the garden.”

  “Ah,” Colonel Forester rocked back on his heels, “so it was Wickham you had arranged to meet. Not some female whose identity you are keeping secret?”

  “I planned to meet Wickham.” Color tinted Denny’s cheeks. “We could converse without any need to watch our language if we spoke outside.

  “Did your meeting with Wickham occur?”

  Color deepened in Denny’s cheeks. “I am afraid not, sir.”

  “I am surprised, young Denny. Why did you not meet Wickham as planned? Some other distraction, perhaps a woman, kept you away?”

  Despite his heightened color, Denny held his head high. “When I arrived, Wickham was already speaking with someone. Then I heard Lydia’s voice in the dark and went off to find her.”

  “If you could not meet with Mr. Wickham, his wife was a suitable distraction?”

  “Colonel, as you are well aware, Lydia is my friend same as Wickham was. I thought only to keep her from learning her husband was meeting another woman.”

  “Who was the woman with Mr. Wickham?” Colonel Forester asked in a low tone.

  Both Colonel Fitzwilliam and Bingley moved a step closer to hear the identity of a woman who might lead them to the murderer.

  “It was Miss Bingley, sir.”

  “Caroline?”

  “Caroline Bingley?” Colonel Fitzwilliam demanded over Bingley’s exclamation.

  “Yes, sir,” Denny said as he returned the stares of the three men. “Mr. Bingley’s sister.”

  ***

  After asking Denny to send Captain Carter to the library, the men waited in silence until the door closed behind him. Colonel Fitzwilliam whirled to face Colonel Forester. “That gives us nothing. We already knew that Miss Bingley met with Wickham.”

  “It confirms her whereabouts, though I cannot think why she met with Wickham.” Bingley said.

  “Perhaps we were too quick to discard Miss Bingley as a possible suspect.” Colonel Forester offered.

  “Now, wait—”

  “You wished to speak with me, Colonel?” Captain Carter's arrival interrupted Bingley’s objection.

  “Captain, have a seat.” Colonel Forester continued without a pause. “Speaking as an officer, Captain, what did you think of Mr. Wickham?”

  Captain Carter lifted a broad shoulder. “I have found we learn the true measure of a man when we fight beside him. I did not serve in that role with Wickham. He was a friend.”

  “Would you say you were as close to Wickham as Mr. Denny?”

  “Colonel, I am sure you are aware rank puts distance in relationships, as it must.”

  “Yet, you looked upon Wickham as a friend.” Colonel Forester paced across the rug, stopped beside the bloodstain on the floor and stared down at it for long seconds. “Admitting friendship seems to indicate you condoned Wickham’s behavior.”

  “Not at all, Colonel, Wickham was always ready for a game of cards and willing to while away a night drinking pints, but that does not mean I agreed with his choices.”

  “Explain yourself, Captain.” Colonel Forester walked over and stared at Carter. “Which of Wickham’s actions did you disapprove of?”

  “His treatment of females comes to mind, sir. Wickham paid little heed to what damage he might do a woman’s reputation as long as he achieved his aim.”

  Captain Carter kept his tone level, but observing him, Bingley detected emotions as deep as those Darcy kept hidden. Evidently, Colonel Forester sensed as much, as well, because he studied Carter for long moments before turning to glance at Bingley and Fitzwilliam.

  “Are you speaking of any female in particular, Captain Carter?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked in a calm tone.

  “Most any female he spent time with, sir. Several of those women are here tonight, as a matter of fact.”

  “Captain, are you including Mrs. Wickham in that group?” Colonel Forester’s soft tone put Bingley on alert.

  “Of course, sir,” Carter met the colonel’s stare, “Wickham dropped his attachment to Miss Lizzy Bennet for Miss King, and shortly after, dismissed her to run off with Lydia. Tonight he met another woman in the garden with Mrs. Wickham here at the ball.”

  “Ah, yes,” Colonel Forester sighed. “We know of his meeting with Miss Bingley. We were hoping you could inform us of someone we did not know.”

  Captain Carter studied each of them in turn, and then faced Colonel Forester. “I cannot think what more you wish me to say, Colonel. Wickham used his charm with your wife same as he did all the women he met. You know as well as I do what mettle of man he was, but he was my friend and will be missed.”

  “He borrowed from you?” Colonel Forester asked in a mild tone that did not match the color in his face. Captain Carter acknowledged the question with a slight nod, and Colonel Forester continued. “Yet you harbored no ill will for Wickham not paying his debt?”

  Captain Carter lifted a shoulder. “To know Wickham was to know he never repaid a loan, but sometimes men of pleasant company ar
e worth the risk of a bad loan.”

  Hands clasped behind his back, Colonel Forester pursed his lips for a long moment, then said. “You say he charmed Mrs. Forester. When was this?”

  Captain Carter sent Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam a keen glance and slowly straightened in the chair to full alert. “I cannot say, Colonel. I only mentioned it to imply that knowing Wickham was present was to acknowledge that he could charm any female in the room.”

  “No women in particular, then?” Colonel Forester asked in a deceptively soft tone.

  “If you insist on names,” Captain Carter glanced at Bingley and Colonel Fitzwilliam, before turning back to Colonel Forester, “he was in the garden with Mrs. Hurst.”

  “Mrs. Hurst? Are you certain it was not Miss Bingley?” Colonel Forester demanded as he glanced at Bingley and Fitzwilliam.

  “I am not mistaken, Colonel.”

  “Thank you, Captain. When you return to the ballroom would you ask Mr. Hurst to join us please?” Colonel Fitzwilliam waited until the door closed, and then turned to the other two men. “This is unbelievable. No sooner do we find uncover a hint, but the next breath reveals we are mistaken.”

  “Why do you not consider this to be a reasonable clue, Colonel?” Forester demanded.

  “Because,” Bingley responded before Colonel Fitzwilliam could, “the Colonel will tell you that my sister and Mr. Wickham were acquainted. We met Wickham when we visited Darcy at Pemberley. Of course Louisa would stop to speak if she encountered Wickham in the garden.”

  “Very well, Mr. Bingley, then you will have no reason for concern when we question your sister.”

  ***

  In the ballroom, Captain Carter resorted to informing Mrs. Hurst that her husband was needed in the library, as Mr. Hurst was snoring loudly, and turned to find Denny almost on his heels. Before he could offer any words of reassurance, Mrs. Forester was upon them.

  “Captain Carter, do enlighten us.” Mrs. Forester leaned close and fluttered a scrap of lace in front of her face so only her bright gaze was revealed. “Was my husband very harsh with his questions?”

  After a cautioning glance at Denny, Carter smiled. “Not bad at all, ma’am. As you are well aware, Colonel Forester is a gentleman.”

  “Nonsense, Captain. But then of course you must say complimentary things of your commanding officer.” She sent a sly glance toward Denny. “I am certain he asked if you had seen me in the garden?”

  “As a matter of fact, Mrs. Forester, he did not.” Carter noted the flash of disappointment in her eyes and wondered if he had been mistaken all along. Perhaps she was only trying to get her husband’s attention and not really interested in flirtations with other men in the militia.

  “Come, Denny, let us fetch some punch. The good Captain is going to keep his own council as always.” She grabbed Denny’s arm, and fluttered her eyes as they walked away.

  Carter frowned. Perhaps he was mistaken. It seemed his first assumption was correct after all.

  “Ah, Captain Carter, you survived the questions I see.” Miss King smiled as she reached his side.

  “Aye, but barely with my hide,” Carter said. He returned her smile and noticed lines around her eyes. Not from the late hour, even though it would soon be dawn, but from worry, he suspected. “Miss King, are you quite certain you made the right choice when you decided to keep your relationship with your cousin concealed?”

  “I cannot be disloyal to Maggie, Captain.” Mary King glanced around but they could not be overheard. “You have been kindness itself through all this trouble, and I thank you, sir. Only a good friend would keep our confidence as you have, but, now more than ever, it is imperative that I remain silent. My cousin’s future is at stake. With Wickham’s death, our last hope of gaining support from the child’s father is gone, but now an even greater threat hangs over our heads.”

  “Of what are you speaking, Miss King?”

  “Surely you realize the danger, Captain. My cousin is the one who discovered the body, but what if it became known that she and Wickham—”

  “Ah, now I see. You fear she would be charged with murder.” Carter frowned as he studied her delicate features and firm chin. “Have you considered the risk if the truth is uncovered? Are you ready for such an occurrence?”

  “I have tried to plan for that event, Captain, but I must confess I am at my wit’s end. If only I could be confident I have done what is fair to all.”

  ***

  Across the ballroom, Jane listened to the soothing voices of Aunt Gardiner and Aunt Phillips as they tried to calm her mother, and prevent another attack on her nerves. However, her interest soon focused on Captain Carter’s return to the ballroom.

  Upon the captain’s arrival, several people moved in his direction. As the Captain paused to speak to Mr. Hurst, Denny advanced from his left and Mrs. Forester appeared from his right. At the same time, Miss King crossed the center of the room and moved toward the captain.

  Denny reached the captain first and seemed anxious to speak with him, but Mrs. Forester joined them. Jane watched Denny’s shoulders slump as his colonel’s wife fluttered her eyes at the captain. A few heartbeats later, Mrs. Forester, too, seemed ready to stomp her foot. Then she whirled away and pulled Denny toward the table of refreshments.

  Miss King arrived and Captain Carter greeted her with a slight bow and a smile. As they gazed at each other, Jane observed their posture and recognized their unspoken words from their expressions. Had she not looked much the same when she first met Mr. Bingley? Could this be a match waiting to blossom, or was she mistaken, and this was only about the murder investigation?

  As Jane continued her observation of the pair, Miss King’s countenance flashed with worry and doubt. Again it occurred to Jane that she might have found an ally in Miss King. No sooner had that thought occurred, when she observed Mrs. Hurst approach the captain in an agitated state. Jane moved toward them before she had time to contemplate her actions. She was the hostess, but more importantly, she had promised Lizzy she would try to discover the identity of the murderer. Perhaps this was her chance to find a hint of who it might be.

  As she approached the group, Jane studied the frustration on Louisa’s face as she spoke with Captain Carter. Uncertain of the cause of Louisa’s unrest, Jane forced her voice to remain calm as she asked. “Louisa, is something wrong?”

  “Why would you imagine that, Jane?” Louisa's face twisted in fury as she glanced at Jane. “Captain Carter has brought word the colonels want to question Hurst downstairs, but he is dead to the world. What am I expected to do?”

  Jane studied the lines of strain in her sister-in-law’s face and spoke quickly. “He needs coffee. Can you wake him enough to drink?”

  Louisa stomped her foot. “I tried to rouse him, but he spent half the night refilling his cup with punch.”

  “If you like, I will assist your efforts, Mrs. Hurst.” Captain Carter took her elbow and guided her toward the chairs where Mr. Hurst lay sprawled in his chair and sound asleep.

  Jane turned to Miss King and put her hand on her arm. “May I have a word, Miss King?” Pausing to send one of the staff to fetch hot coffee, Jane turned to her companion. “I must speak frankly. Miss King, after this night’s events, I am convinced we share more than our wish to be accepted by local society.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Miss King attempted a smile that did not reach her eyes.

  Jane watched shadows play across her expressive face and said half to herself. “Lizzy was right. You do remind me of someone I have met.”

  “Mrs. Bingley, pray do not speak such words.”

  “Oh, but I am certain I am right, Miss King, and I believe we should work with each other instead of going our separate ways.”

  “I am uncertain of what you mean, Mrs. Bingley. How can we help each other?”

  Jane paused to study the young woman at her side for a long heartbeat before she continued. “We both have good reason to discover who murdered Mr. Wickham.”


  “Pray tell me why you would suggest such a thing, Mrs. Bingley?”

  “You are a suspect, Miss King, as everyone here tonight is. But I think you are worried about more than your own welfare.”

  “Mrs. Bingley—”

  “I am not concerned about being accused, because I did not leave this ballroom,” Jane continued, ignoring Miss King’s attempt to speak, “but most of my family and Bingley’s have been questioned. Some quite harshly, I believe. After observing your reactions, I have reached the conclusion that we should work together to discover answers about this night’s events. Do you not agree, Miss King?”

  “As you quite rightly mentioned, Mrs. Bingley, all the guests are suspects. So why should I be more concerned than any other guest?”

  “Because Mr. Wickham led you on and tried to form an attachment—”

  “Oh, but it was I who called off our connection.”

  “Do you suppose the colonels would believe you? Mr. Wickham is not here to confirm or deny your words. What if they suspect you are a spurned lover?”

  “Mrs. Bingley, please—”

  “I am not convinced you have cause to worry on that account, Miss King. However,” Jane paused and gazed across the room, “when it comes to your relationship to Miss Brown, I am not so certain.”

  Miss King gasped, then tried to recover and stammered. “Whatever can you mean, Mrs. Bingley?”

  Jane pursed her lips as she studied Miss Brown, then returned her attention to Miss King. “I do not believe you to be sisters. Your likeness does not lead to sudden awareness, though in truth, my sisters and I hardly resemble one another. I suspect you must be cousins, perhaps?”

  “Mrs. Bingley, I beg you not—”

  “Miss King, I have no wish to disclose your secrets. I mention the subject only to make you aware of my understanding. It it my belief that you wish to discover who committed this murder as much as I do.”

  In spite of Jane’s soothing tone, Miss King cast a glance about the room. The skirts of her gown moved as if she was readying herself to flee, but her level gaze studied Jane. Finally she inhaled deeply and flung her shoulders back, as if visibly gathering herself for a struggle. “Am I to assume you have a suggestion, Mrs. Bingley? For I must tell you even before you make the suggestion, I cannot betray my cousin by disclosing our relationship.”

 

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