Chapter Fifty-One
Elizabeth opened her mouth to scream, but Mary immediately clapped her hand over her sister’s mouth. “It is Colonel Fitzwilliam!” she hissed. He was not in a uniform, but she would have recognised those broad shoulders and that muscular chest anywhere.
Elizabeth froze, and then stared first at Mary and then at the rough-looking man standing over what was very obviously a dead man. She looked at the Colonel, eyebrows raised, questioningly. “Colonel?” she whispered.
“This is the man who tried to seduce Georgiana,” the Colonel said, in a low voice.
Elizabeth nodded. Then her face hardened, as soprano voices could be heard. Someone was coming! She sprang into action. “I will head them off.” She left immediately.
Mary said, “You should go at once, before anyone else comes by.”
The Colonel stared at Miss Mary, shocked. He had expected screams, tears, hysterics, but certainly not this calm comprehension.
“Go now,” she ordered, and she followed Elizabeth back into the street, greeting Miss King and Miss Carmichael and engaging them in conversation.
The Colonel immediately left the alley, leaped onto his horse. He rode out of town and through the back fields toward Netherfield.
***
He did not see Mary and Elizabeth smile cheerfully as they made their farewells to Miss King and Miss Carmichael, and leave town at a quick pace, hand in hand.
When they were safely away from Meryton, they collapsed against one another and tried to make sense of what they had just seen.
“The man standing over the – the other man was Colonel Fitzwilliam?” Elizabeth asked. “I did not recognise him in those clothes.”
“Definitely the Colonel,” Mary answered.
“He killed the man who hurt Georgiana!” Elizabeth said. “I am not – not certain –“
“I know,” Mary replied. “But the man deserved it, did he not?”
“But to murder a man! Mary, we must tell someone!”
“No!” Mary grasped Elizabeth’s shoulders. “No; the Colonel will count on us to keep silent!”
“But this is wrong, Mary!”
Mary’s mind whirled; then she came up with the one argument she knew would succeed. “Mr. Darcy would not thank you for revealing his cousin’s actions.”
Elizabeth froze. Finally, she turned to Mary and said, “Well played, sister. I will keep silent.”
***
The Colonel rode to Netherfield Park’s back door. He banged on it, and was eventually greeted by one of the footmen. “Wot you want?” he was asked.
As expected, no one would look at this disheveled, dirty man and recognise the Colonel who had so recently been an honoured guest in this house. “Got a message for a Mr. Darcy.” The Colonel was careful to alter his usual speech patterns.
“Gi’ it to me, then.”
“Just tell ‘im the problem is solved.”
“Just that?”
“Yes, and I will wait here iffen he wanna talk to me.”
The footman scoffed at the unlikelihood of that, but he disappeared into the house. The Colonel waited, thinking again about the extraordinary reaction of the two Bennet girls to the sight of him standing over a dead man’s body. How had Miss Mary recognised him? No one else had.
Mr. Darcy was at his side in five minutes. “Richard? Is that you?”
“Darcy.”
“You look…well, never mind. You found him?”
“Found him and ended him.”
“Were you seen?”
The Colonel winced.
“You were seen! By whom?”
“Mary and Elizabeth Bennet, of all people?”
“Did they see you kill him?”
“No; they walked past the alley where his body lay just as I was cleaning my knife.”
“They must have screamed! How were you not caught?”
“They did not scream. Miss Mary said, ‘Colonel,’ though how she recognised me I shall never know, and she put her hand over Miss Elizabeth’s mouth at once.
I quickly told them that this was the man who had hurt Georgiana.
Then we heard voices, and Miss Elizabeth ran off to keep them away.
Then Miss Mary, cool as you please, told me I had better leave as soon as possible, and walked off to join her sister! ”
Mr. Darcy’s eyes were wide with astonishment. “I can scarce believe it,” he said. “You were fortunate, cousin, that it was the Bennets who saw you and not anyone else.”
“I am everything grateful, believe me. I did not like to pick so public a place, but I did not know how to get him anywhere more private. But, Darcy, before I killed him, he told me where to find Mrs. Younge. She is at a boardinghouse on White Horse Lane.”
“Spitalfield?”
“Yes.”
“Do you plan to kill her as well, Richard?” Mr. Darcy’s tone was dry.
“I suppose not. Have you any other thoughts?”
“Not just now, but I will think on it. Should I tell Georgiana about Wickham, do you think?”
“Yes; otherwise, her face will betray her when she hears that a Lieutenant Wickham had been found dead.”
“Agreed. And, Richard…”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.” Mr. Darcy’s voice was sincere, his simple words heartfelt.
“Entirely my pleasure, I assure you.” The Colonel’s wide face split into a wolfish grin; he gave Mr. Darcy a mock salute, jumped onto his horse and rode back across the fields.
He would be back at Matlock House just after nightfall.
It was a long day in the saddle, but this was nothing new to an Army man.