Page 8 of A Most Inconvenient Murder

When they reached the maze, the yew walls would only allow the party to continue two abreast.

In the central clearing, the scene had not changed. Mrs. Blackstone still reclined against the fountain, Mr. Darcy’s coat covering her face. Her hand protruded, clutching… something, though her hand now sparkled with moisture. Had the dew settled inside the maze, finally?

Lady Catherine approached and knelt at the edge of the stone. She peered at the body, then addressed the colonel.

“See if you can extract the paper. I will witness every detail.”

As Colonel Fitzwilliam knelt, Elizabeth looked away.

He must have managed to loosen the fingers from their prize, for he held it up. Elizabeth saw that it was a torn fragment of stationery, irregular at the edge, as if it had been wrenched free from a larger piece in haste.

Silence trembled in the air.

Lady Catherine gestured for the Colonel to hand it to her.

“There are no markings,” Lady Catherine announced, holding up the paper for all to see.

Elizabeth blinked, then asked to see the scrap for a moment. The writing she had seen earlier was no longer there. Now it was just a smudged blot of ink.

A chill passed down her spine as Mr. Darcy held out a hand for the paper.

As she handed it to him, she realized that the only person here whom she believed to be completely innocent was Mr. Darcy.

“Since there is no indication of violence. The woman was, by all accounts, in perfect health, and her position as a companion to Miss Clara Haldridge, sister to Mr. Jonathan Haldridge, the owner of Willow Grange, is entirely secure. She must have had some sort of heartbreak to make her do such a thing.”

“Just because there is no outward sign of violence does not mean there was none,” Mr. Darcy said.

Mr. Collins, white as snow, said, “Sir, no one at Rosings would dare—”

Elizabeth, who had been following the conversation until now, found herself compelled to speak, “Is it not possible that a danger came from outside? Mrs. Blackstone was not of this household, after all. Perhaps someone else followed her onto the grounds.”

Lady Catherine swung her gaze around. “You are suggesting that an intruder made their way into the heart of Rosings Park to—what? Murder this woman? For what possible reason?”

“There must have been a reason for her to be inside the maze.” Elizabeth, emboldened by the necessity of logic, pressed on. “I do not say murder, necessarily. But certainly, she was vulnerable.”

The colonel, who had confined himself to the stoic demeanor of the professional soldier until this moment, frowned. “Mrs. Blackstone’s… eh…conditionwould indicate that she passed on this morning about three or four hours ago.” He paused. “Why was she here so early?”

This, at last, caused a ripple of uncertainty to pass over Lady Catherine’s features.

“Mr. Collins,” Lady Catherine barked, “has Mrs. Blackstone visited the parsonage in recent days?”

Mr. Collins gulped. “I—she called on my wife yesterday, your ladyship. She wished to speak to Mrs. Collins about a matter of charity, I believe.”

The party’s attention shifted back to Elizabeth. Obviously, everyone assumed that if a lady visited Hunsford Cottage, she would be in attendance.

“I was not in the room during their meeting,” Elizabeth said, searching her memory. “But Mrs. Collins did mention to me that Mrs. Blackstone asked about Lady Catherine’s charity school. She inquired whether Mrs. Collins had any experience with the institution.”

Lady Catherine straightened, chin high. “I must suppose that something occurred between that visit and this morning that caused her enough heartache to end her own life.”

Elizabeth felt her nostrils flare. Lady Catherine’s insistence on thinking Mrs. Blackstone took her own life rankled.

Lady Catherine ordered, “Fitzwilliam, you will send word to Willow Grange at once.”

Colonel Fitzwilliam nodded. “I will see to it immediately.”

Lady Catherine turned to Mr. Darcy. “Darcy, you will not leave Rosings today as planned. You will remain to assist theauthorities when they arrive. The presence of family will do much to mitigate rumors.”

Mr. Darcy bowed. “Of course, Aunt.”