Murder & Misjudgment

by Abbey North

  After a moment, she gave him a tremulous smile. “I thank you for that. It will make it easier for Mr. Bingley and for Jane. It will make it easier for us to meet with civility and accord in the future, for we are likely to be thrown together quite often with the joining of my sister and your best friend.”

  “But there can be nothing else between us?”

  Once again, she hesitated, and she looked genuinely aggrieved when she shook her head. “I do not see how we could ever find true harmony.”

  “What about this?” As he said the words, he moved closer and put his hand on her cheek, gently urging her head backward. She complied without complaint, her lips parting before he even touched them.

  The kiss was sweet and gentle, though it caused a flare of heat throughout his body. He kept it necessarily brief, fearing he would lose all sensibility if he continued to deepen it. Even the cold air would not be enough to distract him from the warmth he could find in her arms, and seducing her on a winter patio with his sister, friends, and members of the ton in the next room was beyond the pale. He took a step back. “Is there no accounting for the chemistry between us?”

  Lizzy still looked sad. “I do not believe physical passion would be enough to sustain a marriage. Surely, it must fade at some point, and what would we be left with? You would regret lowering your standards to accept me, and I would surely regret allowing you to do so. Regret is no basis for marital accord.”

  He disagreed, certain the passion wouldn’t fade, and also convinced they could build something more between them with the foundation they had, but he could see she was resistant to the idea. He hadn’t given up, but he had to surrender for the evening.

  He took a step back from her and gestured for her to precede him back into the ballroom, wishing he could call her back and persuade her there was a chance for them. He would have to regroup and figure out a new stratagem, because he didn’t intend to give up when he was certain all chance of future happiness rested with Lizzy.

  10

  The ball was a success, and even in her unhappy state, Lizzy managed to have a good time. She had no end of admirers, and even though she and Mr. Darcy had parted ostensibly for good, at least in a romantic sense, she had even managed to dance with him in a polite fashion and interact as though nothing had changed, and they were merely acquaintances.

  Jane was aglow with happiness, and it was clear Mr. Bingley had revealed his plan to her. She was discussing it on the carriage ride home, with Aunt Gardiner listening patiently, and Uncle Gardiner only grumbling a little bit about Mr. Bingley putting things out of order by not speaking with Mr. Bennet first before revealing his intentions.

  “Do not fret so,” said her aunt. “They are a modern couple, and times are changing, dear Edward.”

  Jane prattled on as though her uncle and aunt hadn’t spoken, but she broke off abruptly when there was a cracking sound, and the carriage tilted precariously, landing heavily skewed to the right and leaning backward. “Whatever was that?” asked Aunt Gardiner, her panic clear.

  “I believe we lost the axle,” said her uncle. He was scowling. “Dreadfully expensive repair.”

  The driver appeared then, opening the door. “I am sorry, Mr. Gardiner, but the axle has broken, and I must ask all of you to step out of the carriage. It would be unsafe for you to remain in there while I see if I can repair the situation.”

  Lizzy followed the others exiting the carriage, climbing out awkwardly due to the angle. She was thankful to have her uncle’s assistance, and she soon stood beside her family, lined up on the street.

  “We have not traveled far from Mr. Darcy’s house, and there were several hansom cabs waiting. I shall go flag us one,” said her uncle.

  Aunt Gardiner nodded as she huddled in her cloak. “I believe that would be a wise idea, dear. We shall all freeze if we remain standing out here for long.”

  Course set, Uncle Gardiner headed back toward Darcy House, while Lizzy, Jane, and her aunt huddled together for warmth. The poor driver was wrangling with the carriage, but Lizzy doubted he would be able to do anything. She moved a little closer to evaluate the damage, hoping it would be a simple repair the blacksmith could undertake, but as she drew closer, she was alarmed to find what appeared to be a clear cut on the axle.

  Only the lower part had frayed, as though someone had sawed mostly through the wooden beam and waited for the last of the cracking to happen naturally. The damage could’ve been done days ago, or it could have been this evening, since it could likely be accomplished in a handful of minutes with a sharp saw. Whoever had done it, it seemed to be by design.

  She shivered as she started to move back to her aunt and sister, wanting to warn them the accident was no accident. Before she could, a form coalesced out of the fog, grabbing her and clamping a cloth over her face. Before she could think better of it, she breathed in the sickly stench of chloroform and slumped against the man kidnapping her. She heard her aunt and Jane calling out, and they rushed toward her and her abductor, but he had shoved her into a carriage and was departing before they could catch up.

  Lizzy was almost unconscious now, but she was alert enough to make out some of the features of the figure looming over her. Her mouth gasped in shock as she recognized Lord Aumley, and she had the disconcerting thought Darcy was going to gloat as she slipped into unconsciousness. She wondered with her last ability to think if Aumley intended to turn her into an oblation for Kali, since he was so enthralled by the mythology.

  11

  Fitzwilliam paced around the drawing room, feeling uneasy for reasons he couldn’t explain. The last of his guests had departed moments ago, and he should’ve been relaxing by now, but instead, he felt tightly wound. It was as though something was about to occur, but he couldn’t imagine what.

  He claimed no preternatural sensibilities, but it was almost no surprise when there was a frantic knock at the door, and he opened it seconds later to reveal Jane and her aunt standing there. He stepped aside so they could enter, picking up on their franticness. “What has happened?”

  “Our carriage axle broke, and while Uncle Gardiner went to find a hansom cab, Lizzy moved closer to look at the damage. A form appeared out of the fog and kidnapped her. We tried to catch up, but we could not. We tasked the driver with following the carriage as far as he can while we came here to find my uncle and you.”

  Darcy, uncaring of decorum, bellowed, “Mr. Williams.”

  His butler hastily appeared, and if he thought less of Darcy for his display, he was wise enough not to show it. “Yes, Mr. Darcy?”

  “Send someone to Bow Street for Runners. If possible, request Joseph Kenton. He is familiar with the situation. Mrs. Gardiner will remain behind to give the best directions she can while Miss Jane will come with me as we catch up with the driver.”

  “Very good, sir,” said Williams, as though the kerfuffle happening was nothing worse than someone having received cold tea.

  Darcy paused long enough to grab his greatcoat before following Jane out into the elements. He had not instructed Mr. Williams to send for his carriage, but he was unsurprised when it pulled up less than a minute later. The man was efficiency itself and was capable of sending for runners and ordering the driver and carriage at the same time.

  He opened the door, relaying the directions Jane provided so they were soon underway. They arrived at the site of the carriage accident a few minutes later, and Darcy had the driver stop for a moment because he saw a man stumbling around. He slid out of the carriage and rushed forward, recognizing Mr. Gardiner as he approached. The man was bleeding from his head and seemed confused, and Darcy led him to the carriage, helping him inside.

  “What happened to you, Uncle Gardiner?” asked Jane with shocked concern.

  “I do not entirely recall, my dear. I was walking toward Mr. Darcy’s house when I believe someone thumped me on the head with a walking stick. That is all a bit vague and blurry though.” He took the handkerchief Fitzwilliam extended, replaci
ng the one he’d been holding to his head, since it was soaked with blood. “I do not recall much of anything past that.”

  “Which way did the thief’s carriage go?” asked Darcy of Jane, not unfeeling toward Mr. Gardiner’s plight, but also recognizing time was of the essence.

  “To the right, Mr. Darcy.”

  Once again, he relayed the instructions to his driver and kept his head hanging out the carriage, intending to keep watch for the driver.

  They caught up with the man within a couple of miles, and he looked winded, but he was still walking along at a rapid pace. He drew to a halt as the carriage stopped beside him, and he clearly recognized Mr. Gardiner, because he said, “My goodness, sir, what has happened to you?”

  “There will be time for that later,” said Darcy briskly. “Did you see where the carriage took her?”

  The driver frowned, looking pained. “I did my best to keep up, sir, but I lost him a couple blocks back. It was a good thing he only had one horse on his carriage, or I would never have been able to keep pace for as long as I did. I do not know exactly where he took the young lady, but it has to be in this vicinity, likely near the wharf.”

  Fitzwilliam nodded his agreement as he departed from the carriage. “Continue to look for any sign of them. If you hear or find them, shout for help. I will be nearby, and there Runners en route.”

  Jane leaned out the carriage window. “What are you doing, Mr. Darcy?”

  “I intend to find Lizzy,” he said with resolve, not waiting for her to register a protest if she intended to. There was nothing anyone could say to dissuade him from the course of action he’d set. He paused long enough to say, “I suggest you return either to Darcy House or the house on Gracechurch Street, Miss Bennet. It will be safer for you there, and Mr. Gardiner might need medical attention.”

  He didn’t wait to see if they complied with his instructions as he started walking, cursing the blasted fog that made it almost impossible to see more than a few feet in front of his face. That the driver had maintained pace with the carriage for so long in these conditions earned the man an increase in salary, and Darcy made a mental note to suggest that to Mr. Gardiner once the crisis was over.

  He felt like he’d been wondering aimlessly for hours, though it was probably only a few minutes, but it was seeming hopeless. Without a better lead on where she might be, he could stumble around near the wharf for hours, perhaps being impossibly close to her but never realizing it. His stomach clenched, and his chest compressed as he imagined what dreadful fate awaited her despite his proximity.

  He was determined to find her, and he was starting to consider the possibility of pounding on every door until it yielded results when he heard a scream. It was quickly cut off, but he recognized Lizzy’s voice as the one who’d uttered it, and it sent a chill through him when he raced in the direction from which it had come. He strained his ears, hoping she would cry out again to lead him, but at least he had a rough idea of where she was now.

  12

  Lizzy woke with a pounding head, somewhat surprised to find she wasn’t tied up or confined. Instead, Lord Aumley sat beside her on the bed, knife pressed close to her carotid artery. She turned her head and looked at him, her gaze still blurry, so it took her a moment to realize she had misidentified her kidnapper.

  Instead of the viscount, his friend Mr. Nobles sat on the bed, and he was the one who held the pearl-handled stiletto to her throat. Her eyes widened, and she gasped with shock. “What are you doing, Mr. Nobles?”

  “You called me Adam’s name earlier,” he said with amusement. “You even speculated I was sacrificing you to Kali.”

  Even in her befuddled state, Lizzy vaguely remembered the thoughts, but she hadn’t realized she had uttered them aloud. “You do have a superficial resemblance to him.”

  “Perhaps more than superficial. I find it fascinating how many people can resemble others. For example, Miss Harris and Miss Mansfield both looked so much like my mother. My fiancée also reminded me of Mama. Dreadful, what happened to her.” His words were sincere, but his eyes danced with lively mirth.

  Lizzy shivered as he mentioned the two women who had been murdered, along with the fiancée she must presume he had also murdered, though surely had not decapitated. She had no doubt he was the one who had taken their lives, and there was also little doubt why she was here with him now. “Why would you kill them all if they reminded you of your mother?”

  “Blythe Nobles was a capricious thing. Happy one moment and melancholy the next. I could never quite please her, but the few occasions when I came close were pure euphoria. But she was so exacting, demanding utter perfection and conformation.” He sounded conflicted as he gave the account.

  Lizzy licked her lips, confused what that had to do with anything, but unwilling to interrupt his rambling. It might lead to an enlightening discussion. More importantly, it might bring about a lapse in his concentration that would allow her a chance to escape. She had no idea by which means that might occur, but she wasn’t ready to surrender to his nefarious intentions just yet.

  “I loved my mother, but I was so angry with her. Always so angry, for there was no pleasing her. Try as I might, affect any change she wanted, and yet I was never good enough for her. How she preferred my dear sister to me.” He looked morose.

  “She was quite heartbroken when Beth fell through the ice. I thought after that, she would turn to me in comfort, but instead, she turned away. Her heart grew colder still, as though she were encased in ice beside Bethie. She was not the one who had fallen into the water and pounded so vigorously when she came up, clawing at the ice and pleading with her eyes for me to save her, yet she acted as though she had been the one to die too.”

  Lizzy shivered at what his words revealed. If he hadn’t deliberately pushed his sister in through broken ice, he had at least stood over her and watched her try to escape without interceding. “That must have been difficult for you,” she said softly, trying to sound compassionate.

  He nodded. “Indeed. I did attempt to give her every consideration and every chance to change, but it never occurred. Alas, she was far too disappointing for me, as I was to her. It could not stand, but I learned one valuable thing from my mother.”

  Lizzy frowned, once again shuddering at his tone and his expression. It was genuinely chilling. “What did she teach you?”

  “I learned from her the exquisite joy of stealing the life from a woman.” He smiled as he said that, as though he had relayed his favorite brand of tea. “It is an incomparable experience to hold a woman’s throat in your hands and squeeze until every vestige of life disappears from her gaze.”

  Lizzy whimpered slightly before stiffening her spine. She wasn’t giving up yet. “If you prefer strangulation, why did you decapitate Miss Harris and Miss Mansfield?” How she sounded so cool and dispassionate, Lizzy wasn’t certain, but she was proud of how calm she seemed. She certainly wasn’t feeling it though.

  “That was just a bit of fun after the fact. I toyed with the notion of framing Adam for the murders, since he is devoted to the Kali nonsense, and of course, I left Miss Mansfield at the park in hopes you would see my lovely gift. I might still frame Adam when I have finished. Once the Runners become aware of my activities, it will be much harder to carry them out, and I will be forced to change locations again. I am toying with the idea of going to the Colonies.”

  Lizzy couldn’t help whimpering again. “How many places have you lived?” It was the closest she could come to asking how many victims he had, because she wasn’t certain he would be blunt enough to give her a true answer.

  “Four,” he said, sounding slightly sad when he added, “My home village grew inhospitable shortly after my mother’s death. I believe some of the people suspected me. They seemed to doubt my story that robbers had broken in to steal our possessions and killed her in the process.”

  “You indulge in your proclivities wherever you go?” Lizzy marveled that she could maintain the conver
sation, though she recognized she was clinging to it like a lifeline, and it was keeping her from descending into a hysterical mess.

  “Of course. One can hardly be expected to give up their great passion.”

  She shifted slightly, and he pressed the blade closer to her skin with enough force for her to feel the tip, though it didn’t cut her yet. “How many women have met their end at your hands?”

  “Nine,” he said like it was a trifling matter.

  She frowned at him. “Does that count include your sister?”

  He hesitated for a moment, tipping his head as though they were debating an academic matter. “I have considered including her in the count, but I am reluctantly forced not to do so. Her falling through the ice was strictly an accident of fate.”

  “I assume you stood over and watched her suffer though, making no move to assist her?” Her tone was neutral.

  He appeared unaffected as he nodded. “It was quite revelatory. She was my first experience with death and watching the life fade from her eyes was quite pleasurable, but nothing compared to being the one to take it myself.”

  “You still contributed to her death, so I feel confident in saying you could add her to your tally.” Lizzy couldn’t believe the direction the discussion had taken, but she was happy to have anything to distract him.

  “Perhaps. I shall have to give it more consideration. Truly, I am unlikely to reveal my number to anyone who will be around to recall it.” He grinned at her, as though they shared a secret joke. “You are quite a good confidant, Miss Bennet, for you shall take any of my secrets to the grave.”

  “You do not have to do this. I barely know you, Mr. Nobles. I have done nothing that warrants your mistreatment.” She narrowed her gaze. “I venture, neither Miss Harris nor Miss Mansfield did anything to provoke you either, nor your poor fiancée. I assume you noticed Miss Harris at the Perkins’ party, but how did you meet Miss Mansfield?”