Page 34 of A Most Inconvenient Murder

The colonel went on to say, “I did not go out into the grounds proper, though I was up before sunrise. Could not sleep. At first, I paced the corridor, as is my habit when… unsettled.”

Elizabeth nodded. Mr. Darcy said nothing.

The colonel continued, “After a while, I hoped a breath of air might do me good, so I stepped out onto the east terrace. Feeling the cold more than I expected, I kept to the wall. Walked to the end, then back again. But I did not go further.” Pausing, he tilted his head. “Now that I think about it, I did hear something in the hedgerow. I assumed it was a servant at work or an animal. Nothing unusual, really, so I thought nothing of it.”

Mr. Darcy’s gaze did not move from the path. “What time was this?”

The colonel pursed his lips, casting his mind back. “The sky was brightening, but it was not yet fully light.”

“And you saw no one?” Darcy pressed.

“No one,” said the colonel.

Elizabeth watched the exchange with the intensity of attending a championship game between two prominent chess players. She felt the question forming in Mr. Darcy, the next piece to be advanced.

“Did you enter the maze at any point?” Mr. Darcy asked.

The colonel’s jaw tightened. “No. I do not care for such contrivances. And besides, I dislike losing my way so early in the day.”

Elizabeth found this deflection almost elegant.

Mr. Darcy met his cousin’s gaze, letting a length of silence stretch, the kind that hungered for confession.

The colonel, to his credit, faced it squarely. “If you’re wondering whether I might have seen something,” he said, taking a step toward Mr. Darcy. “I regret to say I was, for once, oblivious. I was there ten, perhaps fifteen minutes at most. I was returning to the house to have my coffee when I heard the commotion at the fountain. Believe me, out of habit, I wouldhave noticed if someone had followed me. The path was empty, and the only other door on that side was locked from within. Though the door I left through… anyone with a key could have already been through it.”

Elizabeth glanced at Mr. Darcy. She found him processing not just the words, but the cadence and consistency, and the willingness to volunteer detail.

The wind rose, flattening the grass and setting the crows to voice a boisterous complaint.

Elizabeth stepped forward, letting her boots crunch the gravel as she inserted herself bodily between the two men. “Colonel, may I ask a question?”

The colonel brightened, as if relieved to be addressed by a less severe court. “Certainly, Miss Bennet.”

She considered her words. “Concerning the movement you heard in the hedgerow… did it sound as if it were one person, or more?”

The colonel blinked. “One, I should think. Now that I remember, I can recall it distinctly. Knowing what I do now, I believe it was not the irregularity of two… a steady pace, but—” He paused, searching for the right term. “—it was not the tread of a servant. Quicker. And with purpose. Perhaps even someone avoiding being seen.”

Mr. Darcy’s eyes flicked to Elizabeth, not to interrupt but to register her line of reasoning.

Elizabeth nodded. “Then, as you walked back along the wall, did you hear anything else? A voice, perhaps?”

The colonel shook his head. “The wind and, eventually, the sound of doors within the house.” He looked up, brow furrowed. “Although… now that I am thinking of it, when I was furthest away from the house, I did notice a slight movement at the farend of the maze. There is a hole, you see, from some branches that had died and the gardener trimmed back, hoping for new growth this season. It is near the first turn.”

Elizabeth met his gaze. “You dismissed it?”

He hesitated, and in the span of that pause Elizabeth knew she had found the soft spot. His shoulders relaxed. “I did. At the time, I had no reason to think it was significant. A bird, or a rabbit, or—” He gave a small, rueful laugh. “Now, I will admit that perhaps it was a murderer, though I would have sworn against it being anything important at that time. Or even shortly after finding Mrs. Blackstone.” He hesitated. “Could it have been you, Miss Bennet?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I had approached the maze from the opposite direction, otherwise I might think so.”

Mr. Darcy’s silence deepened, but there was now a current beneath it, the sense of the case map rearranging itself.

The colonel, for his part, did not appear chastened. He looked at Mr. Darcy. “I may be many things, cousin, but I am not fool enough to believe I could have concealed my tracks in that mud. I left no print near the fountain, nor did I move beyond the terrace. I was merely walking to clear my mind.” He shrugged. “A feeble defense, I admit, but the truth.”

Mr. Darcy said, “I never said I thought you were responsible for the death.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam answered, “You implied it.”

Mr. Darcy opened his mouth to reply but was distracted by the sound of a gate latch snapping shut somewhere across the lawn. All three turned, momentarily expectant, but it was only the iron catching against its post in the wind.