Murder & Misjudgment

by Abbey North

  He should have been surprised, but he wasn’t when he saw Lizzy scrambling down from Aumley’s phaeton, ignoring his cries for her to return as she plunged through the crowd, heading in the direction of the cry about the body. Darcy was glad he had brought Goliath rather than a carriage, because that gave him slightly more maneuverability, and though the horse was slowed more than Lizzy was, he arrived shortly after her.

  Someone had already pulled the body from the water, and he noticed immediately the woman’s head was missing. It was a distressing sight, and he rushed to Lizzy. Before he could think better of it, he took her into his arms and pressed her face against his chest. “You should not look.”

  To his surprise, she melted against him, clutching his back as she nodded. “Yes.” The word was more of a whimper than a sound.

  He looked around, deciding the most expedient way out of the crush was on Goliath’s back. He pulled on the reins, and the horse came closer so he could put Lizzy on the saddle, seating her sideways to maintain some of her dignity before mounting behind her. He spurred Goliath gently, and they were soon away from Hyde Park.

  He stopped at the first tearoom he saw, dismounting the horse before wrapping the reins around the hitching post and returning to Lizzy to lift her down. “Let us get some tea to fortify ourselves.”

  Lizzy was more composed than he had expected, though she was still clearly upset, because her hand trembled when she took a cup of tea a few minutes later. Since she was distracted, he poured a generous dollop of cream and extra sugar in it, thinking she needed the fortification. She sipped it in appreciation and nodded, though she still looked haunted. “I had to see for myself, I guess. It immediately made me think of Marie.”

  Fitzwilliam was in the process of liberally sugaring his own tea, but he paused to look at her. “Who is Mary?”

  “Marie Harris. She was a lovely young woman.” Lizzy quickly apprised him of the situation, and the poor girl’s ultimate fate.

  He frowned as he finished stirring his tea. “She was found in a similar fashion?”

  Lizzy nodded, looking distraught. “Who would do such a thing? And to two women?”

  “They might not be related.”

  Lizzy bit her lip. “I suppose that is possible, but it is such a lurid way to kill someone, so it seems unlikely someone would lose himself in the heat of the moment and decapitate someone, let alone twice in a week. I think they must be related somehow.”

  Darcy couldn’t argue with her, though he had hoped to soothe her. It did seem an astonishing coincidence that two women could be murdered in such a fashion and not have the same murderer. “You said the young man witnessed Miss Harris getting into a black carriage?”

  Lizzy nodded. “He could not make out the crest though.”

  Darcy frowned. “Lord Aumley has a black carriage.”

  Lizzy’s eyes widened, and then she looked at him with her lips pursed. “Tell me, Mr. Darcy, what color is your carriage?”

  He reared back slightly, parting grudgingly with the answer. “Black.”

  “Indeed? What a coincidence. I count most of the carriages I saw today must have been black.”

  “And your point?” Even as he asked, he knew.

  “Black is a common color, and you have an admitted grudge against the viscount. Just because he has a black carriage does not make him a murderer, and I was with him this afternoon when we discovered the body.”

  “True, but I doubt the young woman had been placed there in just the last few minutes.”

  Lizzy shrugged. “Who knows? Surely, that is the sort of thing someone would have noticed quickly, so it could have been arranged just before the height of popularity for riding through Hyde Park to see and be seen.”

  He had to concede that as well. “You were with him an hour ago?”

  She started to nod and then hesitated. “Perhaps not an hour ago. He fetched me from Aunt and Uncle Gardiner’s home, and then we made the ride to the park. I suppose it would have been possible for him to place the body in the pond before he picked me up. I am not saying it is likely though,” she swiftly added.

  He felt benevolent now that she had conceded his point. “But possible. You should steer clear of the man.”

  “I shall be cautious, but I am hardly likely to condemn him to a lack of interaction simply because of one possibility, and the coincidence of him having a black carriage like half of London.”

  He glowered at her, knowing he had little hope of persuading her without more proof. His jealousy and unease weren’t enough to convince her, and when viewed logically, he could see why. He was in no mood to look at it rationally though. He simply wanted to ensure Lizzy stopped associating with the man, but he couldn’t figure out a way to make that happen yet.

  Instead, he said, “I suggest we speak with a Runner tomorrow. They are sure to have more information by then, and you can share what you know as well. With me along to escort you, there will be no impropriety about you going to Bow Street.”

  Her eyes widened for a moment, and then she nodded slowly. “I must admit, we do make a fair team when it comes to solving these sorts of situations. Yes, that is a good suggestion, and I believe it would be wise to get the expertise of a Runner. For though we have tackled abduction, theft, and extortion, murder is new for both of us.” Despite the grisly discovery of the last hour, she was looking better now, and there was a hint of color in her cheeks.

  He found it most charming, and he wished he could always see her like this, smiling across the table from him, though of course, her smile was tempered by the horror of what they had seen, and by the seriousness of the possible murder of two women. His enthusiasm was also lacking for the task at hand, though he could think of no one else with whom he would rather work on this matter than Lizzy Bennet.

  8

  Lizzy wasn’t certain how she felt about working with Darcy again, though she was glad to have a partner. She knew he was competent and would be a good assistant, but she worried the conflict simmering between them might impede the investigation. Despite her reservations, she was waiting when his carriage pulled up outside Gracechurch Street the next morning, hurrying out to meet him so they could keep to their schedule.

  His driver opened the door for her, and she slipped into the carriage with him, taking the seat across from Darcy while unable not to observe how handsome he was this morning. There was nothing particularly different about him, but she was noticing it more prevalently. She shook her head, attempting to dismiss the thoughts, as she greeted him politely. He returned the greeting, and they endured mainly in silence as the carriage ferried them from her aunt and uncle’s house to Bow Street.

  It stopped several minutes later, and the door opened seconds after that. Darcy departed first, and he held out a hand to assist her. Lizzy took it, trying not to tremble when their fingers touched, though layers of gloves separated them. He quickly released her hand as soon as she was on her feet on the ground, but he offered his arm, and she took it. She hated how being in his proximity left her discombobulated.

  Vowing to focus her attention on the matter at hand, she straightened her shoulders and entered the office with him. It was a busy little building, filled with men shouting to each other while clerks bustled about. There were a few other people waiting who appeared in need of a Runner’s service, but Darcy ignored them as he went to the front desk, telling the young man stationed there, “I have an appointment with Joseph Kenton this morning. My name is Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

  The young man looked at the appointment book before nodding and coming around the desk to personally show them to Mr. Kenton’s desk. Lizzy took the only seat positioned in front of it, eyeing the Runner with whom Darcy had made the appointment.

  He was a young man, probably no more than five or six years older than Kitty, with dark skin, closely cropped curls, and big brown eyes that revealed intelligence and inquisitiveness. She instantly felt at ease around him, certain he was competent.

 
He nodded to both of them before gesturing for one of his coworkers to slide over a chair for Mr. Darcy. When they were both seated in front of his desk, he said, “I received your missive, Mr. Darcy. You wanted to discuss a murder?”

  “Two murders,” said Lizzy. “We suspect they might be linked.”

  His brows drew together as he leaned back slightly. “Go on, Miss...?”

  “Elizabeth Bennet,” she said crisply. Then she spent the next few minutes telling him about the two murdered women, and how they suspected there might be a link.

  He looked grey when she had finished, and he rose higher in her estimation when he didn’t look at Mr. Darcy for confirmation of her words. “I do have that file on my desk, assuming it might be what Mr. Darcy referenced. I am referring to the young woman found in the park yesterday. Her name was Katherine Mansfield, and she worked as a modiste’s assistant.”

  He reached for a file and opened it, shuffling through pages until he found what he was looking for. A moment later, he placed the drawing in front of Lizzy and Darcy, and she realized it was a rendering of Katherine Mansfield. She resembled Marie strongly, and Lizzy felt a prickle of unease, though she couldn’t determine why until Mr. Darcy spoke.

  “She could be your sister,” he said, looking troubled.

  Lizzy looked closer, realizing he was right. There was a striking resemblance between her and Katherine, and she recalled Marie’s image in her mind, realizing she also bore the same dark hair, dark eyes, and heart-shaped face. “Marie Harris also shared the same features.”

  Joseph Kenton stood up. “Give me a moment. I believe we have that file as well.” He walked across the room to confer with another young man, and after a few seconds of exchange, he returned with a file he placed on his desk before sitting down. He opened it with methodical precision and found the illustration of Marie. He placed it beside Katherine’s, and the resemblance was uncanny. Lizzy couldn’t deny the three of them shared a similar look.

  “You could be at risk, Lizzy,” said Darcy.

  She stiffened her shoulders and shook her head in automatic rejection. “Why would I be at risk? It is unlikely I have even met the murderer.”

  “Yet you are tangentially connected to both women, having met Miss Harris before her death, and having been one of the first to find Miss Mansfield’s body,” said Mr. Kenton. “Is there someone who might target you?”

  “Lord Aumley,” said Darcy harshly.

  Lizzy barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “The viscount has been nothing but polite. You have no reason to suspect him other than personal ones, Mr. Darcy.”

  “Nonetheless, it would be wise to watch out for your safety at this time, Miss Bennet. It is better to proceed with an abundance of caution than to act recklessly.” Mr. Kenton made a notation on a piece of paper on his desk. “Miss Mansfield’s murder is my top priority, and I shall apprise you of updates as permitted.”

  They took their leave a short time later, and Darcy still seemed troubled as he handed her into the carriage, not leaving the task to his driver. He followed her, and brooding silence hung between them. Lizzy tapped her fingers impatiently on her knee, wishing to return to Gracechurch Street and forget about the startling resemblance she bore to the two victims.

  “I believe we can concur they were killed by the same man,” said Darcy.

  Lizzy nodded, having assumed that all along. “What persuaded you?”

  “He appears to have a type. I have already agreed it was quite an astronomical coincidence to have two such murders carried out in the same fashion occur in the same month, but having recognized another link between his victims, I am certain this man is targeting women of your appearance.”

  Her lips tightened. “That does not mean I am at risk, Mr. Darcy.”

  “Nor does it mean you are safe. It is wise to have someone with you at all times until the man is apprehended.”

  “It could be a woman, you know.”

  His eyes widened. “What?”

  “The murderer could be a woman.”

  Darcy irritated her by laughing. “What woman would have the ability to commit such atrocities with cold calculation?”

  Lizzy hesitated and then shrugged. “I do not know of one necessarily, but I feel you are impeding our investigation by automatically dismissing half the population as possible suspects.”

  His mouth tightened. “There is no investigation, Miss Bennet. If the killer has a type, you certainly conform to it, and there is no reason to bring yourself into his sphere of notice. We should leave the matter to Mr. Kenton.”

  Lizzy thought about arguing, but she didn’t have a compelling way to persuade him. After all, how would she investigate? Being able to talk to Ollie and discovering his information had been more a stroke of luck than skill, and she didn’t have a similar opening with Miss Mansfield, since she had never met the woman.

  She could hardly go poking around into her life trying to find a connection, and Mr. Kenton would be far more successful with the reputation and respect of the Bow Street Runners behind him. Despite her skill at piecing together mysteries, she was out of her depths with this one.

  When they drew up outside Gracechurch Street a few minutes later, the driver opened the door, and Lizzy stepped down. She turned to issue a parting to Mr. Darcy before realizing he was accompanying her.

  She frowned at him, but she could hardly refuse to allow him entry. It would be unspeakably rude, so she led him up the walk and into the house moments later. Aunt Gardiner came to meet them, and Mr. Darcy greeted her warmly, almost as if they were old friends. After a few moments of polite conversation, he said, “I would like to speak with Mr. Gardiner. Is he available?”

  Aunt Gardiner nodded and pointed to Uncle Gardiner’s study. “He decided to work from home today. He has a fine view of his factory from that window and often avails himself of his home office to escape the noise.”

  With a nod for both, Darcy crossed the room. Lizzy, compelled by curiosity and a hint of unease, followed him, but he closed the door in her face. She stared at it aghast for a moment before anger took over. She briefly considered opening the door and entering anyway, but her outrage increased when she heard the lock click a second later, as though he had read her mind. Surely, she wasn’t that predictable?

  With a huff, she flounced across the room and threw herself onto the settee as Aunt Gardiner took a wingback, looking concerned. “Do you know what they are discussing?” asked her aunt.

  Lizzy shrugged a shoulder. “I have no idea, but I do have suspicions.”

  Her aunt’s eyes widened, and she seemed on the verge of smiling. “What fabulous news. This is indeed a reason to celebrate. Fanny will be beside herself with joy.”

  Lizzy, whose mind was still focused on the investigation, couldn’t follow her aunt’s leap in logic. “I beg your pardon?”

  “He is here to ask for permission to court you, is he not? Or is he here to request your hand already?” Her aunt’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “That would be a splendid thing indeed. The Darcy family is a fine bunch, and I know some about them from having grown up in Lambton. They were always a good family and good to the people in the community.”

  Lizzy put up a hand before her aunt, who wasn’t generally prone to excitement or false conclusions, could throw herself into planning a wedding that would never occur. “Aunt Gardiner, please slow down. I can assure you Darcy is not speaking to my uncle about courting me or marrying me. Beyond that, I am not entirely certain his purpose for speaking with him. Even if it were the topic Mr. Darcy wanted to introduce, I could never accept him as a husband.”

  Her aunt frowned. “Why ever not? There is clearly attraction between you.”

  Lizzy gasped at her aunt’s words, and her face flushed with heat. She snapped open her fan and waved it furiously. “I do not know where you have gotten such an impression.”

  Her aunt gave her a direct look. “You are old enough to discuss certain realities, Lizzy, and it
is obvious to anyone with eyes when you two interact there is something more than friendship there.”

  Lizzy shook her head. “I submit you are incorrect, Aunt Gardiner. Besides, even if I had affection for Mr. Darcy, I could never accept his offer of marriage. He is deliberately thwarting Jane’s attempts to be with Mr. Bingley because he considers her unworthy. He claims she has no true regard for his friend.”

  Her aunt sniffed. “What nonsense. The girl lights up in his presence. Yet, I suppose I could see how Mr. Darcy reached that conclusion. Jane is a rather quiet and reserved girl, tending to keep her emotions to herself, especially in public settings and with people she does not know. That might come across as aloof rather than shy.”

  Lizzy’s mouth dropped open. “Are you defending his actions?”

  “No. I am simply pointing out I see how he might have reached that conclusion. There must be a way to persuade him to change his mind.”

  Lizzy snorted. “I wish you luck with that, dear aunt, for the man’s impressions and opinions are intractable. Indeed, they might as well be set in stone.”

  Her aunt frowned. “There must be a way to ensure your sister has happiness so you might as well.”

  “My happiness would not be with Mr. Darcy, I assure you,” said Lizzy tartly. She was relieved the topic of conversation had to be set aside when her uncle’s study door opened that moment, and the two men emerged. Right away, she could see her uncle was concerned by the set of his shoulders and his dark expression.

  He came over and sat beside her, leaving Mr. Darcy to take another wingback. Uncle Gardiner took her hand in his, saying, “Mr. Darcy has explained the situation.”

  “What situation?” asked Aunt Gardiner, looking alarmed.

  Lizzy didn’t bother to answer. She just glared at Darcy, while imagining what he might’ve told her uncle. “He is assuming there is a risk that might not exist. There is no proof anyone has targeted me.”

  Her aunt started fanning herself. “Targeted you? For what? What is going on, Edward?”