Who Murdered Mr Wickham

by Carol Hutchens

  “Mr. Wickham borrowed funds from his friends?”

  Captain Carter expelled a bark of laughter. “Wickham could extend his debt to any merchant in town and leave the shopkeeper smiling. As to his friends, everyone knew loaning Wickham funds was the price for sharing his company.”

  “Did any one person loan Wickham more than they could afford? Mr. Denny, perhaps?”

  “Denny’s pockets are not deep, and he loaned Wickham more than he should, in my opinion.”

  Colonel Forester snapped upright from where he was leaning against the mantel. “You did not approve of Wickham borrowing money?”

  Captain Carter shrugged. “I cautioned Denny not to put his credit on the line by extending loans to Wickham.”

  “Did Denny listen to your advice?”

  “Colonel Forester,” Captain Carter angled his chin high. “That is a question you must ask Denny.”

  “Very well, Captain,” Colonel Fitzwilliam glanced at Colonel Forester as he said, “Will you ask Denny to join us?”

  "I like Carter," Colonel Forester said as the door closed behind the captain. “He is a fine officer, yet I suspect he is not revealing the entire truth.”

  “On what do you base your observation, Colonel?” Fitzwilliam stood by the corner of the mantel and waited for the response.

  “Years of dealing with militia men,” Colonel Forester said with a shrug. “Or perhaps it was the way his posture went rigid when you asked the question.”

  ***

  “You wanted to see me, Colonel?”

  “Ah, Denny,” Colonel Forester turned to the door as Denny walked in, “come have a seat.”

  Denny chose the chair Captain Carter had vacated, but then most people would. What little warmth was left in the room, after the chill of the long night and lowering the blaze to keep down the stench, radiated little farther than the wing-back chair.

  “Have you had any sleep, Mr. Denny?” Colonel Fitzwilliam inquired.

  Denny snapped to alert. “No sir, mostly we have talked and nibbled on refreshments.”

  “Would you say your head is clear, not clouded by punch?”

  Denny’s shoulders relaxed as he laughed. “Sir, I make it a practice to stay alert around the ladies. I have no wish to end up with a wife because I was so far in my cups I spoke without thought and proposed marriage.”

  “Any chance you have plans to marry soon, Denny?” Colonel Forester demanded.

  Appearing startled, Denny responded. “Not that I plan, sir.”

  “Ah, spoken like a man free of ties,” Colonel Forester replied.

  “Yes, sir.” Sensing the note in the colonel’s voice, Denny squared his shoulders and sat up straight as he waited for the next question.

  “ Indeed,” Colonel Forester cleared his throat, “well, back to the reason we requested your presence, Denny. I fear we must repeat our earlier question. Who did you see in the garden?”

  Denny ran a finger inside his collar. “Well. Almost everyone, sir.”

  “Indeed,” Colonel Forester snapped. “Name the guests you encountered, if you please.”

  “Um, well, I saw you, Colonel, and Mrs. Forester, Captain Carter, Lydia, Mrs. Darcy, Miss Bingley, Mr. Hurst and his wife,” Denny paused and wrinkled his brow. “I believe that is everyone, sir.”

  “You failed to mention Mr. Wickham.” Colonel Forester inserted in a quiet voice. “Did you see him in the garden?”

  “Well, no sir, but I heard his voice.” Denny frowned and glanced at the door as if he wanted to escape, “Oh, and I saw Kitty and Miss King, as well.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam noticed the tension in Denny’s voice and said. “Tell us about the gambling debts Mr. Wickham owed you.”

  “It was just a gaming debt, sir.” Denny shrugged as he looked from one officer to the other. “Most of my friends owe debits from playing cards. Wickham was no different.”

  “You were not distressed over his failure to repay you?” Colonel Forester asked.

  Denny lifted a shoulder. “My pockets are not deep, Colonel, but Wickham had taken a wife. Since Lydia and Wickham were friends, I was fine with Wickham's delay in repaying the debt.”

  “Ah, so because of Mrs. Wickham, you allowed Wickham to abuse your agreement. I believe you knew her before Wickham arrived in Meryton?”

  “I met Lydia soon after the regiment arrived in Meryton, but Wickham was my friend before I met Lydia. She had nothing to do with our gambling debits.”

  “Was there a rivalry between you and Wickham for Lydia’s affections?” Colonel Forester demanded. “Before you reply, Denny, do recall that my wife was privy to Lydia’s confidences for some time before her marriage, so please respond truthfully.”

  Color tinted Denny’s cheeks, highlighting his youth and boyish handsomeness, as he stared at his superior officer. “Very well, Colonel. It is true that I had thought to speak for Lydia’s hand when my fortunes improved, but that seemed a very distant future.”

  “Then Mr. Wickham arrived and stole her heart from you?”

  “No, Colonel Forester,” Denny spoke in a firm even tone. “Wickham arrived and won the hearts of all the females in his association. Even women with husbands were susceptible to his charm. So there was no contest between us, if that is what you mean to imply.”

  “That is my point exactly, young Denny.” Colonel Forester said in a stern tone. “I believe there was competition. There is always gambling among young militia men concerning the ability to win the attentions of the unmarried ladies.”

  “ʽTis true,” Denny’s shoulders slumped, making him seem even younger, “there were bets on who will win the most hearts, but nothing like that occurred on my part concerning Lydia. She was but a friend.”

  “You say you did not see Mr. Wickham in the garden, but you heard him?” Colonel Fitzwilliam said in an attempt to steer the conversation back to the murder. “Did you hear him argue with anyone, inside the house or out?”

  “No, sir. Though, I heard a man’s angry voice speak Wickham’s name in the garden.” Denny frowned. “And now that you make mention of it, earlier in the evening, I heard Wickham snap at one of the servants.”

  “Really,” Colonel Forester’s voice dripped with satisfaction, “can you identify the man you heard speak in anger?”

  “No, he was too far away. I only heard the angry tone of his voice.”

  “Denny,” Colonel Forester stared from under lowered brows, “do you recall which servant you heard Wickham reprimand?”

  “Yes, sir,” Denny gave an eager nod, “it was the woman who found the body. Miss Brown.”

  ***

  “Miss Brown, take your time, and tell us again, what happened in this room before you discovered the body.”

  Miss Brown’s voice trembled as she related the same details she had described earlier, and Colonel Fitzwilliam could find no reason to think she was being anything but truthful. “Very well, Miss Brown. But why did you not tell us you had spoken to Mr. Wickham in the hallway upon his arrival?”

  “Oh, well I forgot after the shock of finding him dead. Snd it was a matter of no importance, in any case.”

  “Perhaps you hoped to conceal the matter as he spoke harshly to you?” Colonel Forester said.

  “Not at all, sir. It is true, Mr. Wickham’s tone was abrupt, but I thought him cold and hungry, not angry.”

  “As he had only just arrived, Miss Brown, why did Mr. Wickham snap, do you suppose?” Colonel Fitzwilliam tried to keep his tone mild so as not to frighten the young woman, after Colonel Forester's harsh tone.

  “I am positive Mr. Wickham was just in need of rest after the long trip, Colonel. Mrs. Wickham was complaining about all that had gone wrong on their journey, and Mr. Wickham stopped me to ask directions to their room. But I did not know and that is when he used a sharp tone.”

  “That is all? Why use an abrupt the tone with you?”

  “I was the only person he saw,” Miss Brown lifted a shoulder, “and I am not familiar w
ith this house. The Wickhams were cold and hungry, and I did not know the way to their room.”

  “Very well,” Colonel Fitzwilliam gave a nod, “you may return to the ballroom for now.”

  The door closed behind Miss Brown with a sound loud as a gun shot. Colonel Forester was first to voice his frustration. “All this time and we have nothing. What are we to do?”

  Chapter 13

  As soon as Captain Carter returned to the ballroom, Mary King approached him. “Captain Carter, have you managed to return unscathed by all the questions? Perhaps you are in need a bite of food to restore your strength after your ordeal.”

  “How considerate of you to make the suggestion, Miss King,” Captain Carter was swift to reply. He took hold of her arm and turned toward the table at the end of the room. “But I will only take nourishment if you will join me.”

  As they joined the line circling the buffet table, Mary arched a brow as she glanced at him. “Tell me, Captain, do you not enjoy Mrs. Forester’s company?”

  “Ah, so you noticed she was headed in our direction,” Captain Carter sighed. “After dodging questions from her husband for the past hour, is it any wonder I wish to avoid her company?”

  “You shock me, Captain, and make me very curious. Why avoid the colonel’s questions when he thinks only to discover who murdered Mr. Wickham?”

  “You believe this to be so, Miss King?”

  “Of course, what other reason could the colonel have but to solve this crime? You should answer his questions truthfully, Captain.”

  “Aye, Miss King, but you would respond likewise if the answers would cast suspicion on your best mate.”

  “’Tis true, I am sure, but have you considered the possibility of his guilt, Captain?” Mary dipped a spoon in a dish of scrambled eggs. The texture and odor were not to her liking, but few foods appealed to her at four in the morning.

  “He is as guilty as any in this room, Miss King, but not of Wickham’s murder. Still, if I revealed details that would clear Denny of murdering Wickham, I am quite certain the colonel would murder Denny.”

  “Whatever can you mean, Captain?” Mary stared at him from wide eyes. The piece of bread in her hand suddenly felt weighty enough to use as a weapon.

  Captain Carter returned her stare and considered his next words carefully. He glanced around the table to confirm they could not be overheard, but still, he delayed. He should keep the words to himself, yet he had reached the end of his patience with keeping Denny’s assignations quiet. In fact, he was quite certain Colonel Forester suspected him of hiding something after the questions he endured. Colonel Fitzwilliam probably had his suspicions, as well. Though, truth be told, had Colonel Fitzwilliam been the one asking the questions, he would have explained his actions to the fullest. Instead his responses made him appear as guilty as the murderer and he was weary of covering for Denny.

  “At the time of the murder, Denny was in the bushes snuggling with Mrs. Forester. He could not have committed the crime.”

  “Oh, no,” Mary exclaimed in a voice heavy with disappointment, “that means neither could Mrs. Forester be guilty.”

  Carter stared at her, surprised by her reaction, and clenched his fingers on his plate. He had expected a giggling response or probing questions about Denny’s involvement with the colonel’s wife, but not this forlorn look on her face. “Miss King, had you reason to suspect Mrs. Forester?”

  “How could I not,” Mary stirred in the bowl of fried potatoes as she spoke, at least she thought the strong scent of onions and crusty brown blobs were fired potatoes, “after what Mrs. Wickham said when she first heard her husband was dead.”

  “Pray, do not give any thought to Lydia’s outburst. She is like a kettle and expels steam when her anger runs hot. Give her a chance to regain her composure and she will be laughing before you can turn around.”

  “Oh, if only I could, Captain, but Colonel Forester and Colonel Fitzwilliam's questions were quite intense. I fear they took Mrs. Wickham’s words seriously.”

  “Why would they do so? After her stay with the Foresters in Brighton, Colonel Forester is well aware of Lydia’s disposition.” Carter lifted a lid on a dish and quickly replaced it. “In fact, I suspect he holds Lydia responsible for his wife’s behavior, but that is unfair. Mrs. Forester was a flirt long before she became friends with Lydia.”

  “How can you say such things when we are not long acquainted?” Mary dropped the spoon back into the bowl of jelly and turned to face him. “Do you not care for Mrs. Forester, Captain?”

  “Miss King, I have no wish to seem forward, but I have noticed you from a distance for some time, and tonight’s events have made us close acquaintances, has it not?”

  Heat warmed Mary's cheeks as she smiled. To discover the captain shared her feelings of being connected was more than she had hoped for at this time. Yet she dared not think ahead until she was free of blame in Wickham’s murder. “I am pleased with your words, Captain, but much depends on your opinion of Mrs. Forester.”

  “Then let me speak plainly, Miss King. I care about my friends, but care not for how Mrs. Forester takes advantage of them. Because she is the colonel’s wife, they dare not refuse her advances. Even Wickham rushed to do her biding. Now, poor Denny cannot tell one foot from the other when she is near.”

  “I must say, Captain, your opinion of her character is not very flattering,” Mary offered.

  “Indeed it is not. Nothing of this night leads one to look for the best in a person, present company excluded, of course, Miss King.”

  “Captain, I—”

  “I say no words lightly, Miss King. But I have observed your kindness to others since before we met. Tonight, you have gone out of your way to console Miss Brown after her shock of discovering Wickham’s body. I also observed your frequent attempts to speak with Lydia, even after she aimed her wrath at you and blamed you for killing Wickham for all to hear. I have no doubt but that you would offer comfort to Lydia, as well, had she allowed you to speak.”

  “Captain, you bring me to blush—”

  “I am but a man, Miss King, but these are facts. I have no wish to offer you flattery, only a sincere estimation of your character from what I have observed.”

  Mary’s face filled with heat. How could he say such words when all she had done this night was to search for proof she was not a murderer. Yet a part of her blossomed under his intent gaze. “You appear to have observed me for some time, Captain. Were you not distracted by Mrs. Forester's ploys as were Wickham and Denny?”

  Captain Carter stood tall and studied the plate of food in his hand, as if he knew not from where it came. “My attentions were never temped by false promises of one woman when I could observe the true character of another.” He looked deeply into her eyes as he said. “I would not speak of such things, Miss King, but this night has made me very aware that counting on the morrow can be futile. I ask nothing but to be thought of in a kind manner and promise to do the same in return.”

  “Captain, your kind words have stolen all sensible thought from my head.”

  “You need say no words, Miss King, but allow me to be considered as an acquaintance. That is all I ask.”

  “Oh, but you see, Captain, I wish for more, and I dare not turn away any offer of friendship. The possibilities are in too short supply. As for asking nothing, kind sir, I wish...I so hope that you want more.”

  “Then I must speak the truth, Miss King. Since the moment, I first saw you on the night you met Wickham at Mrs. Phillips gathering, I have thought of little else. However, as an officer in the militia, I have little to offer. A friendly countenance and occasional smile is all I have any right to expect.”

  “As greatly as I value the friendship you so kindly offer, Captain, you have so much more to offer, but I fear I am undeserving of your attentions.”

  “Then I must say again, Miss King, I ask for nothing.”

  “Captain,” Mary closed her eyes as thoughts muddled in her head, the
n someone behind them coughed, indicating they should move. Mary stepped away from the table and walked to the middle of the floor. As Captain Carter joined her, she looked up to meet his gaze. “Your words deserve recognition and honesty. And I am very much afraid my actions have deceived you.”

  “You could not, Miss King. I have observed your acceptance of condescending comments with no retaliation of your own. Your character is one of the reasons why I cannot ignore my inclination to speak.”

  Mary moved a step closer to him, until their toes touched and looked up. “Captain, I return your high regard, and have done so for some time now. So please consider the confidence I am about to place in you as well deserved. If you choose to ignore your inclinations after you hear what I have to say, I will understand, but your kindness tonight will never leave my heart. For that reason, I must tell you that what you credit as my kindness, was in truth prompted by what I fear you will consider a selfish need. For you see, Captain, Mrs. Wickham accused me of murdering her husband, and in my effort to prove otherwise, I found myself unable to reveal that Miss Brown is my cousin. Pray, do not think badly of me—”

  “Carter,” Lydia said in an impatient tone as she flounced to a standstill beside the captain, “I do believe you have been ignoring me,” Lydia cut her eyes toward Mary, “and spending too much time with others.”

  “Mrs. Wickham,” Captain Carter seemed to struggle to find words, “would you care for a plate of food?” He offered her the plate in his hands, as he glanced at Mary.

  Staring at the plate he offered, Lydia shook her head. “No, I want to select my own. Do they have ham? Come, Carter, you must go with me to collect a plate for I am not yet used to being on my own.” With a whirl of her skirts, Lydia turned away.

  Carter sent Mary a long glance and slowly followed.

  Mary stood in the middle of the ballroom, the filled plate in her hands, and watched them walk away as fear washed over her. He did not need to speak of his reluctance. Mary knew he had no choice but to do as his friend asked. Yet in her need to prove she was of good character, she had revealed details to Captain Carter that could seal her own fate and Maggie’s. Could she trust the captain to keep her confidence, or was his connection to Lydia and Wickham so strong he would reveal all?