Chapter 10
“My dear Bennet, that is horrible indeed,” Mr. Philips said sympathetically. “Poor Elizabeth. She must be devastated to learn that her former favorite was a rogue, and quite unsettled to be partially responsible for his demise, though certainly Wickham deserves to be dead.”
Mr. Bennet nodded, suddenly feeling more exhausted than he had in many a year. “It is dreadful indeed, and if Mr. Darcy had not intervened, it would have been far, far worse.”
Philips lifted a bottle of whiskey mutely, but Bennet shook his head; he did not care to be affected by alcohol this afternoon.
For a long moment, the two men sat in silence in Mr. Philips’s private office. All was silent throughout the building; the sun was setting, and Mr. Philip’s clerks had gone home an hour earlier. Bennet was confident that there were no listening ears of this most delicate conversation.
“So what do you wish me to do?” Philips inquired, putting the whiskey back in its drawer without sampling it.
Bennet smiled gratefully. His brother by marriage was an intelligent, sensible man, and was as taciturn as his wife was garrulous. Bennet could trust the solicitor to keep quiet about this horrifying situation.
“It is imperative that Elizabeth’s presence remain unknown, but Mr. Darcy will not lie under oath. In your position as coroner, can you ask questions that will steer away from requiring Mr. Darcy to reveal my daughter’s whereabouts at the time of Wickham’s death?”
Philips leaned back in his chair and considered, then said decisively, “I believe so. I have considerable latitude as coroner. I will also make it my business to gather jury members who are not inclined to challenge me.”
“That is excellent. Would you also be able to push the inquest back to Monday? It would give Mr. Darcy more time to obtain the documents showing Wickham’s skullduggery in the past regarding the living, and I intend to spend the next two days collecting information in Meryton concerning Wickham’s poor behavior. ”
“Yes, I can do that with ease,” Philips assured him.
“In this cold weather, Wickham’s body will not deteriorate quickly.
By law, the jury must observe the body; I will arrange to have the corpse transported to the building behind the church as usual.
Have you spoken to the parson about the subsequent burial? ”
“No,” Bennet said grimly. “Nor do I have any obligation to arrange for the Christian burial of a man who assaulted my daughter.”
“Of course not,” Philips agreed with a fervent bob of his head, “nor should you be involved since our story is that the fight happened on Longbourn land, but other than that, has nothing to do with the Bennets.”
“Precisely.”
“I will speak to Mr. Allen in my official capacity of coroner.”
“Thank you, Brother,” Bennet responded, climbing to his feet. He felt exhausted and was thankful that he had arrived by coach; he was not inclined to ride on horseback tonight. “I am most grateful for your assistance.”
Philips stood up as well, and the two men shook hands.
“I am honored to be of assistance and am incredibly relieved that Elizabeth was not seriously harmed,” the solicitor said.
Tears stung Bennet’s eyes. “So am I.”
***
“Oh Lizzy, I am so happy!” Jane exclaimed for the third time.
The two eldest Bennet girls were seated side by side in Jane’s bedchamber, and Elizabeth, for all her internal turmoil, could only smile at her favorite sister’s glowing countenance.
“I was so afraid that Mr. Bingley did not truly care for me, and now I know he does. He did specifically say that he wished to see me soon, correct?”
“Yes, dearest,” Elizabeth returned in some amusement.
Jane smiled beatifically and leaned back against the couch. For a minute, the two girls were silent as Jane contemplated her love for Charles Bingley, and Elizabeth fought to keep her mind away from the horrors of the previous week when Wickham had attacked her.
“Lizzy?”
“Yes?”
Jane tapped her rosy lips with one finger as she regarded her sister seriously. “You were, it seems, quite right about Miss Bingley. Her letter indicated that Mr. Bingley is pursuing Miss Darcy, but based on his message that he is looking forward to seeing me again soon, that seems most unlikely.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes heavenward and huffed in exasperation.
“Miss Darcy is but sixteen years old. I am certain that neither Mr. Darcy nor Mr. Bingley has any intentions of promoting a match between the latter and a girl five years short of her majority. Miss Darcy is an heiress and highly connected in society; that is why Miss Bingley referred to her in an effort to discourage you from hoping for a match with her brother. We are not rich enough or grand enough for her, but I am confident that while Caroline Bingley may be a social climber, her brother is not, and that he loves you dearly. Please trust me in this.”
Jane’s smile wavered a little bit and she said, “I do trust you, but it hurts my heart that Caroline attempted to deceive me. Every advance to intimacy began on her side; why did she pretend to be my friend if she did not wish for me to be her sister?”
Elizabeth rolled to her feet and wandered over to warm herself by the fire.
“Jane, you are quite the most beautiful, charming, graceful, gentle, delightful woman in all of Hertfordshire. Miss Bingley no doubt singled you out because she truly enjoys your company; she did not, it seems, expect her brother to fall in love with you.”
Jane could only sigh mournfully while Elizabeth regarded her with a hint of irritation.
She loved Jane dearly – indeed, who could not?
– but her inability to accept the darker side of humanity was somewhat exasperating.
Elizabeth would always adore her older sister, but the events of the past days showed her how far Jane dwelt from reality.
On occasion, men and women were cruel, vengeful, sneaky, traitorous, and conniving.
She would do better to accept that truth, though Elizabeth hoped Jane was never faced with an actual attack on her person as she had been.
Again, Wickham’s leering face flashed into her mind’s eye, and her bruised flesh ached under her sleeves.
“Jane?” she asked, determined to give her thoughts another direction.
“Yes, Lizzy?”
“Would you help me sew some lace onto the bodice of my yellow dress?”
“Of course!”
***
“Are you worried about the inquest, Darcy?” Bingley asked.
Darcy, who was close to nodding off in his comfortable chair by the fire in the east sitting room, jerked and stared in confusion at his friend.
“I beg your pardon, Bingley. What did you say?”
“Are you concerned about the inquest?” the other man repeated. “It seems very clear that Wickham instigated the quarrel, but if I were in your situation, I would be quite unsettled. I hope that the local coroner is a sensible man.”
Darcy shifted his position slightly, the better to relieve the ache in his arm.
“The coroner is Mr. Philips, the solicitor, who is also brother to Mr. Bennet. He is reputedly an intelligent and reasonable individual. I am not especially worried that I will be convicted of murder. If I were a tenant farmer or a butcher, the situation would be fraught with uncertainty, but as the nephew of an earl, I believe the danger is minimal.”
Bingley wrinkled his nose and said, “While I rejoice that you should be safe, that is hardly fair.”
“Indeed it is not,” Darcy agreed mournfully.
“I can only be thankful that ... well, Wickham enraged many men in his checkered career; I daresay more than one father of a comely girl is happy to see him dead. The whole affair is most regrettable, but Colonel Forster’s persecution of me will come to naught. ”
“Forster? What do you mean?”
“My apologies, I did not tell you that; apparently, he insisted to Sir William Lucas, who is the local magistrate, that an inquest be held. My cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam should be here tomorrow and that, along with the record of Wickham’s perfidy regarding the so called stolen living, should convince any reasonable jury that I am the victim in our relationship, not he. ”
Bingley heaved a deep sigh of relief. “I am thankful. The sooner the inquest is over and the man buried, the sooner I can...”
He trailed off and looked away, and Darcy, observing him carefully, noted that his companion’s skin was suddenly redder.
“The sooner you can continue your pursuit of Miss Bennet?” he asked drily.
Charles Bingley stared at him in discomfort before his jaw tightened and he leaned toward his closest friend.
“Yes, exactly, Darcy. I love her, and I believe that she truly cares for me. Moreover, Caroline obviously is worried that we will make a match of it; she went out of her way to send Miss Bennet a letter claiming that we would spend the rest of the winter in town, when I have no such intention.”
“I am anxious as well, Bingley – no, hear me out! Miss Bennet is a delightful young woman, but with the entail on Longbourn to Mr. Collins, she must accept any reasonable offer. It is the way of our world that women often accept an offer of marriage for pragmatic, not romantic, reasons. Indeed, I daresay many of my acquaintances do not look for romance and love in marriage, but you are not that sort of man. I know you. You long for a marriage of mutual respect and admiration, and would be unhappy with a woman who weds you for your fortune.”
Bingley frowned heavily. “I would indeed not wish for such a union, but I think you are wrong about Miss Bennet. She is not a fortune hunter.”