***
Jane circulated among the guests and listened to conversations around her. As she expected, the main topic was Wickham’s murder. She paused to confer with the housekeeper on the food offerings and then moved on to speak to Bingley’s sisters.
“Well, Jane,” Caroline’s tone dripped honey as Jane came near, “how does it feel to be hostess at your first ball.”
As Jane stood before Caroline’s chair, with Louisa only a few seats away, she recalled receiving reprimands from her parents years ago. Yet unlike those times, when her skin turned the color of clotted cream, then flushed the color of a rose in full bloom, Jane angled her chin and smiled at Caroline as she would any other guest. This was her home, her ball, and these were her guests. “Well, I plan to not have a murder occur at my next ball, Caroline, but other than that, things seem as they should.”
Caroline twittered with pretended mirth. “Jane, after this murder, I suspect you will have no cause to ever host another ball.”
“Do hush, Caroline,” Louisa commanded in her elder-sister tone, “how can Charles expect to move up in society if Jane does not give balls?”
“Pray tell me who would attend such balls,” rolling her eyes, Caroline said. “Only those wishing for the latest gossip would dare step foot in any event Jane hosted.”
“Does that mean you would not attend?” Jane asked in her most innocent tone.
Caroline appeared startled for a breath, then she leaned forward and said, “Listen, Jane, this nonsense must end. Colonel Forester as much as accused Hurst of Wickham’s murder. You must do something.”
“What shall I do, Caroline?” Jane motioned to the roomful of guests. “Request the real murderer step forward and confess?”
“Do stop being ridiculous and take this seriously, Jane. Our brother’s reputation, and your own, are at stake. You must do what you can to discover who murdered Mr. Wickham.”
“As you are so adamant, Caroline, I wonder that you have made no effort to reveal the truth yourself.”
“Jane, you must hear what I say—”
“I was not in the garden as you were, Caroline, so I cannot speak for the innocence of those who were.”
“Even though your precious Eliza, Lydia and Kitty were in the garden, as well?” Caroline arched a darkened brow. “Believe what I say, Jane, you must discover who killed Wickham.”
“Yet you warned me against such actions earlier.”
Caroline's expression tightened. “That was before the colonels accused Hurst. Whatever would Louisa do without her husband?”
“You seem certain of Mr. Hurst’s innocence, Caroline. So who do you think did this deed?”
“I am sure I do not know such a person. It was not Mrs. Forester, of that I am certain. For I saw her hiding in the bushes with my own eyes, and quite occupied with young Denny.” Caroline smirked as she glanced at Louisa.
Jane managed to keep her mouth from dropping open, but shocked as she was, she could not ignore the strained look on Louisa’s face at hearing Caroline’s words. What was troubling Louisa? Surely she was not worried the colonels really believed Mr. Hurst was guilty. For one thing, he was never steady enough on his feet to undertake the murder of a younger man. And he never strayed far from a source of refreshment, for another. “I will make inquires, Caroline. That is all I can promise.”
Jane sighed as she walked away. Louisa’s discomfort sent uneasy thoughts raging through her head as she considered Caroline's warning. Troubled by the possibilities Caroline hinted at, Jane experienced a moment’s relief when her gaze encountered Miss King.
Her unease returned, however, when she noticed Miss King was standing in the middle of the ballroom with Captain Carter and Lydia. That Miss King’s interest in Mrs. Forester uncovered no hint as to the identity of the killer seemed disprove Caroline’s claims, and Jane mentally crossed one name off her list as she paused to wonder when she would next have a chance to consult with Charles.
***
After Denny departed from the library, Colonel Forester joined Colonel Fitzwilliam in front of the fireplace. Bingley stepped closer, as well, but after a glance at of each of the colonels, he turned to stare into the flames. The long night was almost over and still they had no hint as to the identity of Wickham’s murderer.
“Well, Colonel,” Colonel Fitzwilliam studied his fellow officer, “I suggest we take leave of this room and break bread to restore our energy. The morn is nigh and we have realized little of what we have been charged to accomplish.”
“Aye, ’tis true, but after hearing from Denny and Captain Carter we have discarded all doubt of Mrs. Wickham committing the crime.”
“I am of the same mind on that point.” Colonel Fitzwilliam turned to his host. “How say you, Bingley? Is Mrs. Wickham free of suspicion?”
“I never considered otherwise,” Bingley blinked as he looked away from the fire, “and not because she is my wife’s sister, but because she was in the company of her sisters while she was in the garden. And I can vouch for her deep affection for Mr. Wickham.”
“Ah! Yet that is the very reason we could not overlook the possibility she was guilty. Indeed, strong emotions can oft be at the root of such deeds as this,” Colonel Forested replied. “Yet, I do not believe Lydia Wickham guilty of this murder.” He continued with a sigh. “Much as it pains me to speak ill of a fellow guest, and someone I shared a meal with on many occasions at Lucas Lodge, I am convinced we again contemplate the possibility of Miss King’s guilt.”
“Why would you believe such?” Bingley demanded. Jane had defended Miss King, and even gone so far as to offer her friendship. Bingley dreaded Jane's response if her good opinion of their guest proved wrong.
“What is the meaning of your strong defense of someone not related to you, Bingley?” Colonel Forester demanded. “Even for your own sisters you did not reveal such emotion.”
Heat warmed Bingley’s face as he looked from one officer to the other. “My concern is for Jane. She is convinced Miss King is of a kind heart and warm disposition.”
“Mr. Bingley, need I remind you that an innocent face can cloud your judgment?” Colonel Forester sent Bingley a hard stare as he spoke. “We can forgive your wife for a lack of reasoning, for I have found women do not think as clearly as men when it comes to such matters.” Releasing an impatient breath, he glared at Bingley. “Have Miss King’s actions gone unnoticed by you this night?”
Bingley’s jaw tightened. “Jane is a good judge of character—”
“Begging your pardon, Bingley, I fear we must hear Colonel Forester out.” Colonel Fitzwilliam frowned as he studied each man in turn. “I overheard bits of two conversations about the murder between Miss King and Miss Brown. Perhaps we should examine further Miss King’s motive for spending time with Miss Darcy’s companion. As one of her guardians, I would be remiss in my duties if I did not delve further into associations with my ward.”
“Miss King is conversing with guests other than Miss Brown.” Colonel Forester rocked on his heels. “Have you not noticed how she roams about the ballroom, but rarely contributes to discussions? She moves from group to group and listens.”
“Perhaps she refrains from making remarks because she has yet to feel accepted by county society.” Bingley stared at the two colonels.
“Indeed, this could be a fact,” Colonel Forester nodded, “but if that be the case, why put herself forward to join strangers in conversation, if not to gather information?”
Bingley knew why Miss King was circulating among guests. He and Jane discussed the matter, and Miss King’s motives seemed the same as their own. “Perhaps, she is searching for answers as we are. After all, Lydia did accuse Miss King of murdering Wickham.”
“All the more reason for us to question Miss King again.” Colonel Forester nodded. “We should not underestimate Miss King.”
Chapter 14
Tense silence greeted Bingley a short time later as he accompanied Miss King to the library. Aft
er a glance at the two officers, Bingley motioned toward the chairs grouped near the fireplace. “Please, Miss King, make your self comfortable.”
With a questioning glance at the officers, Miss King settled on the edge of the nearest chair.
Colonel Forester stopped pacing to stare down at her, “Miss King, why do you suppose Mrs. Wickham blamed you for her husband’s murder?”
Miss King glanced at both officers before responding. “Mrs. Wickham received distressing news. I was merely in her line of vision.”
“She looked at you after learning her husband was dead. Why would she do so?”
“Mrs. Wickham was distraught with grief and unaware of what she was saying.”
“Yet, Mrs. Wickham loudly accused you and Mrs. Darcy of murdering her husband.”
“I should think Mrs. Wickham’s claims that four different people murdered her husband would be reason enough to assume she was speaking out of her head.” Miss King angled her chin and returned his stare. “You and your wife were accused of the murder, as well, Colonel. Are we to take those words seriously?”
A grim expression settled on Colonel Forester’s face as tension filled the room until it felt almost visible.
Bingley met Colonel Fitzwilliam’s glance. By reminding Colonel Forester that he and his wife were accused, as she had been, she was certainly making it difficult for Colonel Forester to blame her for the murder. Indeed, considering her tone and calm manner, it appeared Jane was correct in her belief of Miss King’s innocence. Why else would she confront her accuser with reminders of Lydia’s claims of his own guilt?
After long ticks of the clock, Colonel Forester cleared his throat loudly. “You are correct in your statement of facts, Miss King. I am sure you understand how easy it is to delve into a problem and forget one is involved.”
A collective seemed to escape the room as Miss King tilted her head and said, “But of course, Colonel.”
Yet any release of tension was short lived. Colonel Forester planted himself directly in front of Miss King and asked in a tone better suited for addressing one of his men. “Now, can you enlighten us as to why you ended your attachment to Mr. Wickham? You were one of several young women who enjoyed his attentions, yet he offered you a marriage proposal. Why end your arrangement?”
“I must ask why is the ending of my engagement of any importance in solving this crime, Colonel. My connection to Mr. Wickham was short-lived and long past. Mr. Wickham had since married another woman.”
“Precisely my point, Miss King. Perhaps you were a spurned lover intent on gaining revenge regardless of how long it took to accomplish your aim.”
“Does that make Mrs. Darcy a spurned lover, as well, Colonel? Or, perhaps, even Miss Bingley is one, for that matter?” Miss King sent Bingley a glance full of apology before she continued, “Surely, Colonel, you are grasping for theories in your attempt to solve this murder.”
Colonel Forester frowned. “Why make mention of Miss Bingley? We have no cause to believe there was a connection between her and Mr. Wickham.”
Miss King lifted a shoulder and focused her gaze on his face. “Miss Bingley spoke to Mr. Wickham in the garden, and as you seem intent on questioning the simplest of connections, perhaps you should speak with her.”
Colonel Forester assumed the fierce glare of an officer displeased with his men as he replied. “Indeed, we must consider all possibilities, Miss King. Now, perhaps you will explain why you spend so much time speaking with Miss Brown?”
“It has been a long night, Colonel, and meaningless conversation grows more tedious by the hour. As I had nothing else to do and Miss Brown seemed distressed over her discovery of Mr. Wickham’s body, I tried to distract her.” Miss King's cheeks flushed as she glanced at each of them and continued in a low voice. “It has not been long since I lost my uncle. I only sought to offer comfort to another.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke for the first time. “Miss King, I find your kindness in relieving my ward of the care of her companion commendable, but each time I approached, you and Miss Brown were speaking of the murder. I find the occurrence strange if, as you say, you were only offering her comfort. Can you give an explanation of your conversation?”
“You are quite correct, Colonel, but you only heard a part of our conversation. I was merely seeking to relieve the thoughts weighing on Miss Brown’s mind and I have found it helps to put into words those things we fear most.”
“On the contrary, Miss King, I believe you were examining Miss Brown’s memory in an effort to discover if she recalled anything pointing to your guilt of this crime.” Colonel Forester announced. “Therefore, Miss King, I hereby accuse you of the murder of George Wickham.”
The silence following Colonel Forester’s statement was deafening. No one moved. Only the crackling blaze in the fireplace penetrated the stunned silence of the library.
The four occupants of the room stared at each other with mixed reactions. Miss King’s mouth opened in a gasp but she never made a sound. Bingley stared at the two officers. Colonel Forester’s face glowed red and veins in his neck bulged as he stared at Miss King. His brow winkled, Colonel Fitzwilliam turned and stared at Colonel Forester.
Finally, Miss King made a choking sound and her face turned the deep red color of her hair. Bingley rushed to pour her a glass of water from the tray.
Miss King gasped for air until her complexion returned to normal, and then she rushed into speech. “I did not murder Mr. Wickham. I could never do such a thing. However, as you insist on exposing all that is personal in my life for public scrutiny, I will tell you all the facts. I wished to keep this information to myself, but I cannot keep silent under charge of being a murderer. It was I who broke off the relationship with Mr. Wickham, not the other way around.”
“So you implied before, but I must why you would end the engagement?” Colonel Forester demanded. “What young woman wanting a husband does such a thing? Is it not the goal of all single young ladies to find a husband as soon as possible so they may boast of their conquests?”
Miss King sent him a reproachful glare. “Colonel Forester, must I explain what seems obvious to everyone else in the county? Mr. Wickham was only interested in wealth. Though I must confess, until Captain Carter told me that Mr. Wickham borrowed money from all his friends, I had no idea of the true extent of his debt.”
“Females of marrying age are not usually deterred by the fact that a young man borrows money.” Colonel Forester stated.
“To what age do you refer, Colonel? Do you mean to imply that I am past the first flush of youth and therefore desperate for any match I am offered?”
“Your spoken words, Miss King, not my own.”
“I see that I must explain.” Miss King's sigh sounded loud in the stillness of the room. “The executor of my uncle’s estate made inquires and discovered tales of Mr. Wickham's habits. After hearing the information, I considered Mr. Wickham’s sudden interest and realized he was focused only on my inheritance. When next I saw him, I ended our arrangement.”
“Still, I believe you were reacted to the insult from his lack of affection and his focus on your fortune.” Colonel Forester’s tone rang with the determination of a military man refusing to give up on a battle.
“I disagree, Colonel.” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “I am of the opinion that Miss King should feel relieved at her narrow escape rather than harbor anger at the loss of Mr. Wickham’s attentions. Therefore, I can determine no reason she would wish him ill will.”
“This is my reaction as well,” Bingley added. “I have experience at observing these affairs and my sisters expressed relief at being rid of fortune hunters.”
“Yet, Miss Bingley met with Mr. Wickham in the garden,” Miss King blurted.
The room fell into silence for long moments as the men considered her words. Then Colonel Fitzwilliam said, “Miss King, on one point I am unclear. Why did you go about the room and ask so many questions about the murder?”
�
�I fear I must confess I was uneasy, Colonel. Mrs. Wickham accused me of the murder, and I wanted proof that I had not committed the crime. It was to that aim, and nothing more, that I asked questions. Even though I felt sympathy for Mrs. Wickham’s distress, I was unnerved that she should blame me for the deed.”
“That is the cause of all your questions? You were only trying to solve the murder?” Colonel Forester demanded.
“But of course that is all, Colonel. What other reason could I have? My only intent was to prove my innocence.”
Frowning thoughtfully as he studied her, Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “If that be the case, then perhaps you will share with us what you have discovered?”
“Colonel,” Colonel Forester roared, “have we not wasted enough time without now pausing to consider speculations from every guest in attendance.”
“I agree too much time has passed with little results, Colonel,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said as he turned back to Miss King. “However, we accused Miss King of this crime and I believe we must hear what she has learned. Miss King, if you please?”
“I fear I must disappoint you, Colonel, for I found no answers, only more questions.”
“Such as?”
Miss King shrugged. “The first matter to cause me concern was the number of people who arranged to meet with Wickham in the garden.”
“I should think the answer to that question was simple,” Colonel Forester barked. “Wickham planned to meet every female he could lure into the dark. Yet the fact remains, that his murder occurred in this room, not in the garden. So as you see, Miss King, the more important question is, who met Mr. Wickham in the library.”
***
“Captain Carter?” With the greatest reluctance, Mary approached the captain as he stood with Denny and Mrs. Forester. “I am instructed to ask you to report to the library.”
Captain Carter turned to her and studied the expression on Mary’s face, then gave a slight nod and turned toward the door of the ballroom without saying a word.
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