by Abbey North
“So is what I have to tell you. Mr. Bingley is having a rout this weekend at his townhouse, and he has invited us.”
Jane let out an unladylike squeal of happiness before clamping a hand over her mouth after pulling it away from Lizzy’s hand. She seemed to take a moment to compose herself, and she sounded far calmer when she spoke again. “That shall be a delightful event, I am certain.”
“What shall be delightful?” asked Aunt Gardiner as she entered the room.
“We have been invited to a rout at Mr. Bingley’s townhouse this weekend,” said Lizzy in a meaningful fashion.
Her aunt’s eyes widened, and the older woman clearly recognized the significance. No doubt, Jane had had a chance to confide in her during the week she had stayed there, and she looked pleased.
“I think an occasion like that calls for new gowns all around.”
Lizzy shook her head. “We cannot accept that generosity, Aunt Gardiner.”
“Indeed, you can,” said Aunt Gardiner firmly. “I was just saying to your uncle not even yesterday that I needed a new gown, and I see no reason why you two should not have one as well.”
Lizzy and Jane exchanged a glance, silently debating the matter before they both nodded. “If you insist, it would be rude to refuse,” said Jane, though she sounded a little uncertain. “Are you certain, Aunt Gardiner?”
Her aunt nodded. “It is incumbent upon us to represent our house well, and I know for a fact none of us have dresses that are quite the caliber one needs for such illustrious society.” She sounded like she was teasing them, since they all likely knew they had dresses that would work. They might be functional and slightly less ornate than the current style, but they would’ve been acceptable, nonetheless.
Lizzy recognized the gesture for what it was, and she reached out a hand to her aunt as Jane did the same. They squeezed Aunt Gardiner’s hands simultaneously. Lizzy was smiling so much her face hurt. Surely, with a lovely new gown, and a softened demeanor now that Jane knew Caroline Bingley’s hints about Charles and Georgiana were lies, it seemed inevitable the couple would reconcile.
“I was going to spend the afternoon reading, but I think we have a much more important pursuit. Let us go to the modiste, my dears.” Aunt Gardiner got to her feet first, and Jane and Lizzy quickly complied. She followed her aunt and sister from the townhouse a few minutes later, and they took a hansom cab to the modiste’s shop.
It was an engrossing hour as they looked at the current dress plates and fabrics, consulting with Mrs. Johnstone on what would be the most flattering for each. She took their measurements with the assistance of her shop girls and promised to have the dresses ready for a final fitting by Friday. Lizzy imagined her aunt was paying a little more for that privilege, and she winced at the thought, though she still appreciated the generosity.
After they had left the modiste’s shop, Aunt Gardiner said, “Let us go by the tearoom and really indulge ourselves, my dears.”
Jane gave an enthusiastic agreement, and Lizzy was about to confirm as well, but the boy hawking the newspaper caught her attention when he said, “Headless woman found.”
She dropped Aunt Gardiner’s arm to move closer to the boy, fetching a shilling from her reticule to hand him so she could buy a copy of the paper. He passed it over, and the front page bore the lurid headline about the headless woman. It also had a sketch of the person, who must’ve been identified through some means. Lizzy gasped and nearly dropped the paper when she recognized Marie Harris in the illustration.
Aunt Gardiner and Jane must have realized her distress, because they came over to join her. “Whatever is wrong?” asked Jane.
“You have gone dreadfully pale,” said Aunt Gardiner.
Lizzy held out the paper to her aunt and sister. Aunt Gardiner winced at the headline, but Jane paled as well. “The assistant cook,” said her sister.
Lizzy nodded. “She works for Mrs. Perkins, Aunt Gardiner. Perhaps we should call in to check on the household?” It seemed the thing to do, and Lizzy couldn’t deny she wanted to know more about the circumstances. What kind of monster could do such a thing to such a sweet young woman?
Mrs. Gardiner looked troubled for a moment, and then she nodded. “Yes, I am certain Tilly would appreciate a call. This has no doubt been a shock for her and the entire household. We must defer tea, girls.”
Neither Jane nor Lizzy offered a protest as they once more hailed a cab to take them to Mrs. Perkins’s townhouse. When they arrived, there was a somber air about the place, and the butler showed them in with unrestrained dignity, but his eyes were red. Apparently, he was touched by the loss of his coworker as well.
Mrs. Perkins greeted them with a wail of distress, at first focusing on the tragic loss of young Marie, but then inevitably, her focus shifted to how the ton would perceive her since she was employing an assistant cook who had found herself in such a situation.
Lizzy had no patience for it, for she doubted very much Marie Harris had done anything to position herself as a victim, and she certainly hadn’t designed to do so at the risk of exposing Mrs. Perkins to ridicule. Annoyed with the woman, she slipped away from the sitting room, certain no one noticed, and made her way back to the kitchen.
It was a more subdued staff she saw this time, and there was a large man she had not met the night she was there. She tapped at the doorway, hovering uncertainly as they all stared at her with ill-concealed shock for a moment before their postures straightened.
“How may we help you, miss?” asked the big man wearing the white apron. She assumed he was the chef Marie had mentioned before.
“I wanted to offer my condolences about Miss Harris. I had opportunity to meet her recently at a party your mistress hosted. She was quite a charming young woman.”
The cook’s expression softened, and he wiped at his face with the tail of his apron. “She was a lovely girl. Such promise, and her plum pudding was the most exquisite I had ever tasted.”
Lizzy nodded as she moved closer, feeling slightly more confident in her welcome now. “I concur, sir. It was why we came to the kitchen, wanting to have a second helping.”
The cook’s eyes widened, and he clearly recognized the incident. “Miss Harris mentioned it to me the next morning with much pride. I am pleased you enjoyed what she produced.”
Lizzy felt awkward standing there, but curiosity compelled her to ask, “Who would want to harm Miss Harris?”
There was a murmur among the staff, and the consensus was, “No one,” said the cook firmly. “I cannot imagine how this happened, but it was certainly a case of mistaken identity or some other mishap. Miss Harris was a woman of impeccable morals.”
As he said that, Lizzy saw one of the footmen who was polishing silver grimace, and she made a note of that. She quickly departed the kitchen after sharing her condolences again, waiting for the young man to emerge. She was hopeful he would come out first, and he did a short time later.
If he was startled to find her waiting for him, he didn’t show it. It was almost as though he’d been looking for her, and there was an angry set to his expression. “She was not quite the paragon Mr. Beadles would have you believe.”
Lizzy frowned. “Miss Harris?”
The man nodded. “Take my word for it.”
“And who are you, sir?” asked Lizzy.
“I am Ollie. Until a few days ago, I was courting Marie. We were saving money so we could get married and leave service, but she broke up with me. She told me it was not going to work out, and that same night, I observed her slipping out of the house. She met a man in a black carriage.”
Lizzy frowned. “Was this the night she was… Disappeared?”
He shook his head. “It was a couple of nights before that, but I would not be surprised if she sneaked out again to meet the same man. It was a fine coach, though I could not make out the details of the crest on the door, so she probably fell for some seducing rake above-stairs. Marie seemed like a sensible girl, but even a sensi
ble girl can have her head turned by a charming scoundrel. I have no doubt she believed his sincerity, though the man was likely only dallying with her.”
“Or worse,” said Lizzy softly.
Ollie flinched then, apparently recognizing what her words implied. “You think the bloke who tried to seduce her might have been the one who hurt her?”
Lizzy hesitated. “I cannot profess to know much about the matters of the heart, but is it not plausible that someone denied what they wanted might fly into a rage?”
Ollie seemed to consider that, and it caused an odd reaction. He smiled slightly. “Perhaps she had not given away her virtue and given up all semblance of respect and decency then.”
Lizzy considered that a unique way to see the bright side. Apparently, Ollie would prefer his once-intended to have died defending her honor rather than surrender it. She was disturbed by that, but she struggled not to show it as she excused herself and returned to the sitting room, pleased no one seemed to have noticed her absence.
5
Thursday afternoon, Lizzy sat in the salon of an exclusive home in London, surrounded by people who were in general well above her rank. No one had been particularly unwelcoming, but she still felt out of place among them as she listened to Lord Aumley give his lecture on Kali.
It was obvious from the actions of the people around her that they gave little regard to the topic. They were busy whispering among themselves, and she didn’t think they were discussing the contents of the lecture.
She found it quite rude, though she confessed his information wasn’t nearly as compelling as she had thought it might be. For all his charm as a companion, he was a dreadful public speaker, who droned on and on and didn’t interject any excitement into his voice. He managed to make human sacrifice sound as banal as taking tea with one’s grandmother.
“The poor man is ghastly at this,” said Tristan from beside her.
She turned and gave Mr. Nobles a small nod. “It is quite a juxtaposition to see how articulate he is in a personable way, yet he defaults to such a dry tone when delivering his academic lecture.”
“It is all nonsense and babble anyway,” said Tristan. “Who cares about the barbaric practices of followers of a heathen goddess, who demanded ritual sacrifice?”
“It is an upsetting topic,” said Lizzy.
His lips twitched. “I do not find it the least upsetting. I find it all utterly pretentious though. These people pretend they are academics interested in other viewpoints and learning about the world, but they never step outside their own little place in it. They are happy to condemn the religious beliefs of an entire group of people, seeing it as further sign they are morally superior. It is all an affectation. Not one of them genuinely believes in any of this.”
Lizzy’s eyes widened at the passionate words, and she clutched her reticule tighter. “I suppose I cannot disagree with your assessment, but I find it comforting none of them believe in Kali. After all, we would hardly want someone making human sacrifices to the Indian goddess, would we?”
Tristan looked shocked by the idea, and then he shook his head. “No, that would be most appalling. Of course, I have no fear that Adam could do such a thing. The man could barely find it in himself to harm a fly, let alone a human, even if he does take this Kali nonsense a bit too seriously.”
“I find that a reassuring bit of information. Not that I suspected anyone was about to begin ritual sacrifice in London,” said Lizzy with a hint of amusement in her tone. The very notion was insane.
Or perhaps not quite so insane. Suddenly, she remembered Marie Harris in the state she’d been discovered. Lizzy quickly dismissed the idea it was an oblation to Kali. She had no explanation for what had happened to the poor girl yet, and she wasn’t certain she could divine an answer, though she intended to search for one, but she was positive it had nothing to do with human sacrifice.
6
Jane, Lizzy, and Aunt Gardiner retrieved their gowns on Friday. Only Lizzy’s required a bit of adjustment in the bodice, for she felt it was too low to start with, and a fichu wouldn’t provide enough coverage to suit her. After attaching a section of lace, it was more in line with her tastes, and the women collected their gowns and returned to the townhouse on Gracechurch Street to prepare for the evening ahead.
Jane was a vision in dusty rose when she joined them as they awaited the Gardiners’ carriage. Uncle Gardiner didn’t seem to have new evening attire for the occasion, but he also didn’t appear to object to the three women having bought new gowns either. He praised each of them as lovely, and Lizzy couldn’t deny she did feel quite beautiful in the violet gown with the lace at the bodice and intricate rosettes embroidered along the hems of the cap sleeves.
She wore gloves that went to midarm, and her hair was pinned and styled artfully by Aunt Gardiner’s maid, with one curl curving down over her shoulder. She felt elegant, and she was confident when she emerged from the carriage in front of the townhouse at Grosvenor Street. She girded herself her battle, fully expecting a scene with Caroline Bingley, though it might not be an overt one.
She maintained her confidence when they entered the townhouse, and the butler announced their arrival. It was a far more elegant rout than Lizzy had ever attended, since most of hers had been confined to social gatherings hosted by families in and around Meryton, along with an occasional outing in London.
She couldn’t help craning her head to look around, feeling a bit like a wide-eyed ingénue in her first Season, and realizing that wasn’t too far off the mark. These were the kinds of events other women in her station and above would have had in their first Season and would’ve already taken for granted by the time they reached the age of twenty like Lizzy.
Mr. Bingley greeted them as soon as they stepped off the stairs, immediately approaching Jane. He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “It is lovely to see you again, Miss Bennet.”
“I am so happy to see you as well, Mr. Bingley. There is much I would like to discuss with you.” Jane appeared to be maintaining her courage well. Lizzy approved that her sister planned to fully tackle the subject head-on and explain why she had been so cool at the Netherfield ball. It seemed like the best way to clear the air between them.
“Perhaps we could talk while we dance?” asked Mr. Bingley.
Jane hesitated and then nodded. “Perhaps so.”
“May I request your next two dances?”
Jane had just given her agreement when Caroline approached, looking as though she’d been sucking on a lemon. She frowned at Jane. “I did not expect to see you here, Miss Bennet.”
Jane’s expression tightened, and she was the closest thing to angry that Lizzy had seen. “No doubt, you did not expect that, Miss Bingley, but Mr. Bingley invited me through Lizzy, and it would be rude to refuse.” Her tone was cold, and Lizzy was proud of her sister for making her displeasure known. She had been afraid Jane would try to make amends when she had done nothing wrong.
Caroline seemed shocked by her tone, but she had no chance to reply as the music changed, indicating the next set was about to begin, and Mr. Bingley took Jane’s arm to lead her to the dance floor. He didn’t spare a glance or a word for his sister. Indeed, he seemed unable to look at anyone or anything but Jane.
Caroline turned to glare at Lizzy, as though this were her fault. “I am certainly surprised to see you here.”
“Mr. Bingley invited us when I had tea with Miss Darcy the other day.”
Caroline looked upset then. “Miss Georgiana invited you for tea?”
Lizzy smiled, trying not to be too unkind. She didn’t want Caroline to suffer too much, though the woman probably deserved every ounce of it. “We did become quite good friends during our brief time at Netherfield. We happened to run into each other at the museum the other day when she was with Fitzwilliam…Mr. Darcy, and she invited me for tea.”
Lizzy had deliberately used Fitzwilliam’s first name, hoping to provoke Caroline. It worked, as the othe
r woman’s pale complexion took on a flushed tinge, and her eyes sparkled with obvious anger. Before she could say anything more, Lizzy’s attention shifted to a man approaching. She gave him a genuine smile of pleasure as Adam came to stand beside her. “Ah, Lord Aumley, I did not know you would be here.”
“Mr. Bingley and I have some interactions upon occasion. We are in a similar line of business.”
“How lovely.” She turned deliberately from Caroline, who was still clearly caught in the throes of outrage. “My dance card remains dreadfully unfilled at the moment, Lord Aumley,” she said in a leading fashion.
He frowned. “That simply will not do. You must allow me to reserve the next two.”
Lizzy smiled at him. “I would be delighted.” Before they went to dance, she ensured Uncle Gardiner had been properly introduced to Adam, and then he whisked her onto the floor when the music started for the next set.
“Miss Bingley looked ready to combust.” He sounded vaguely amused.
“She had something unexpected occur. It must have upset her greatly.”
“Were you the architect of her suffering?”
Lizzy shook her head as she made the next dance step, pressing her palm to his for a moment as the formation dictated. “No, it was truly a bit of accident all around. If you had not invited me to the British Museum, it would not have set the possibility in motion.”
His eyes gleamed. “So, I am the architect of her suffering?”
Lizzy shrugged a shoulder. “You or fate. I suppose it depends on who would wish to take credit.”
He looked uneasy. “I confess, Miss Bingley intimidates me, and she seems to have little use for me the few times we have interacted, but I would not wish to make her upset. She must be too gently bred to deliberately injure.”
Lizzy couldn’t help thinking he simply didn’t know her well enough yet, but she patted his arm in a commiserating fashion as she moved past him. “That is most humble of you, Lord Aumley. You can hardly be blamed for the situation, and truly, it is nothing that should pain her. It does not directly affect her, and instead, it might ensure the happiness of two people.” Her gaze moved to Charles and Jane, who were farther down the formation.
