Page 46 of A Most Inconvenient Murder

Together, they walked back along the hedgerow toward the parsonage beneath the rising sun.

Neither spoke again.

Once, silence between them had been burdened with misunderstanding. Now, it was companionable.

Chapter 15

Elizabeth could not help thinking that the gathering would possess all the order of a carefully planned inquest. At Mr. Darcy’s request—and with Lady Catherine’s authority behind it—everyone connected with the investigation had been summoned to the entrance to the hedge maze.

Mr. Darcy stood waiting between the weathered stone pillars that marked the entrance. The light was already beginning to fade, though sunset was still some time away, and beyond him the winding paths disappeared almost at once behind dark walls of yew.

Laughter announced Colonel Fitzwilliam’s approach, who seemed busy entertaining the coroner’s clerk. The clerk was a young fellow with an ink-stained thumb and an expression that suggested he found today’s affair more exciting than good taste advised. The colonel acknowledged his cousin and Elizabeth with a nod as he continued his story.

Mr. Haldridge arrived next with the coroner. Though plainly dressed for the country, Mr. Haldridge somehow managed to look as though he expected to be called before a magistrate at any moment. He greeted Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy with quiet civility, which they both returned in kind.

The remainder of the party appeared together.

Lady Catherine led them with her cane planted firmly in the lawn before each step. Miss Anne de Bourgh followed close behind, one hand holding fast to a footman’s arm, whileMrs. Jenkinson hovered anxiously at her other side. Charlotte followed behind them.

Mr. Collins brought up the rear, casting frequent glances toward Lady Catherine with an expression implying he was uncertain whether to appear solemn, attentive, or grateful.

Elizabeth slipped quietly toward Charlotte, who had repositioned herself beside Colonel Fitzwilliam with what Elizabeth suspected was deliberate calculation. It was, she thought, a far more comfortable place to stand than beside Lady Catherine.

Near the entrance, the coroner’s clerk opened his writing board with evident self-importance. The coroner merely folded his hands behind his back and waited with a patient expression.

Mr. Darcy looked once around the assembled company.

“If everyone is present,” he said, “we may begin.”

For once, Lady Catherine offered no reply. She merely inclined her head.

Mr. Darcy entered the maze first, and the others followed in single file.

The recent rain had left the path damp beneath their feet. The scent of wet earth and yew rose with every step, while droplets still clung to the dark branches overhead. Before long, the hedges shut out every view except the winding path ahead.

Elizabeth found herself watching Mr. Darcy as he walked before them. His shoulders were as straight as ever, his pace steady, betraying nothing of what he might be thinking.

She wondered whether he was as aware as she was that, before they left the maze, someone’s life was certain to change.

At the first junction, Mr. Darcy waited for the company to gather, then led them left. The colonel leaned close to Elizabeth as they rounded the turn.

“A fine day for a hearing, is it not?” he murmured, his voice pitched for her alone.

She smiled without humor. “I wonder who will be found guilty.”

“Not me, I hope. I am quite attached to my own neck.”

She stifled a chuckle. The exchange helped to release the knot in her chest just a trifle.

The center of the maze opened abruptly onto a circle, its edges bordered by a shallow ditch. In the middle stood the marble fountain: a wide basin, flecked with moss and lichen, its rim still ringed with the faint traces of a police cordon; a length of blue ribbon that had snapped somehow and now trailed in the wet grass. The fountain’s two cherubs regarded the company with indifference.

Elizabeth noted with surprise that a bench had been moved near the fountain, its ironwork legs gouging small furrows in the ground. Lady Catherine immediately claimed it, seating herself with the air of a queen on a portable throne. Miss de Bourgh took the seat beside her. Mrs. Jenkinson took up her post at her charge’s shoulder.

Mr. Darcy halted before the fountain and turned, facing the assembled group. He waited until Mr. Collins had shuffled into place, then spoke.

“You are all aware of why we are here. Miss Elizabeth Bennet has, with the help of Colonel Fitzwilliam and myself, pursued the investigation of Mrs. Blackstone’s death to its logical conclusion. The facts, as we have assembled them, will now be presented. The coroner will witness, and the clerk will record.”

Lady Catherine’s cane tapped once, sharply, against a flagstone. “Very well, Darcy. But make it quick. I have no taste for the melodrama of Town.”