Pride and Premeditation (Jane Austen Murder Mystery #1)(32)
“Only someone who didn’t possess a fortune would be so crude as to speak of it,” Caroline volleyed back.
“I’m not rich, it’s true. But that doesn’t make me, or any other person lacking in wealth, less worthy of respect.”
“You’re not worthy of my respect because you’re rude and prying. Whom I dance with and where I do it is my business!”
Lizzie’s instincts told her two things: First, Caroline was lying about not wishing to marry Henry. Lizzie had seen the way she looked at him. Second, she was still holding something back.
“You’re keeping a good many secrets, Caroline. It’s a wonder that you can keep them all straight.”
“You nose about in a great many lives, Elizabeth,” Caroline countered. “It’s a wonder you have any friends at all.”
Lizzie wouldn’t normally allow herself to be offended by such words, but Caroline’s insult landed close to her heart. She pushed her thoughts of Charlotte aside. Lizzie would not be able to outtalk Caroline, she realized. She made a split-second decision to bargain instead. “My job is to prove your brother’s innocence. I have to consider anything I uncover relevant to the murder investigation, and relay that information.”
Caroline glowered, but she followed Lizzie’s meaning nicely. “What do you want?”
One question, that was all Lizzie would get out of Caroline. She knew better than to waste it by inquiring whether she knew who had killed Hurst. Instead, she asked, “Why did you convince Louisa to leave her husband? Yes, I know, he was terrible. But it would have given Mr. Hurst legal ground for divorce and ruined your family.”
Beneath Caroline’s contempt, Lizzie detected a hint of panic. Lizzie pressed her advantage. “There are already whispers that your sister left him before the murder. If we can find out who the real murderer is, perhaps we can recast the story to put your sister in a better light. . . .”
Caroline scowled. “You’re not nearly as clever as you think, Miss Bennet.”
As if Lizzie needed any reminders of her own shortcomings. But she didn’t take the bait.
Finally, Caroline relented. “George was too sly for his own good, and not nearly smart enough to stay out of trouble. I overheard Charles and Darcy speaking of how best to cut him off ages ago, but the only reason Charles wouldn’t go through with it was Louisa. I thought if Louisa were home, then Charles could do whatever he needed to—appeal the courts, cut him off completely—and George would be out of our lives for good.”
“Was there any particular reason why your brother would cut him off? Aside from the debts, I mean?”
“It may be simpler to list all of the reasons why he might not be cut off,” Caroline said, leaving Lizzie no doubt as to whom she blamed for their predicament. “Ask Darcy if you want the details. All I know is that George must have gotten into very deep trouble because I could only get one new ball gown this past season.”
Lizzie’s skin prickled at the mention of Darcy, but she forced herself to focus. If Caroline’s wardrobe was suffering, then it confirmed that Bingley tried to cover Hurst’s expenses out of his own pocket. Unfortunately, it also gave Bingley yet another motive. Sensing Caroline’s volatile patience with this line of questioning coming to an end, Lizzie asked, “Who do you think killed your brother-in-law?”
“I wouldn’t have the first clue, and furthermore I don’t care,” Caroline said with great indifference, then patted her hair and looked beyond Lizzie to the card room. “Don’t follow me again, Miss Bennet. In fact, do us both a favor and stay out of my way.”
With that, Caroline whisked away with all the grace of a venomous snake. Lizzie waited a few minutes to gather herself, not relishing the prospect of inserting herself back into the assembly hall to find Wickham. Where had he gone? Had he seen her disappear with Caroline? She hoped so, and that prompted her to venture out from the shadowy hall, looking for his tall, trim figure in that borrowed coat. But to her disappointment, he was not lurking nearby to keep an eye on her.
Not that she needed him to keep an eye on her. But it would have been reassuring to know that he was about, focused on their mission.
As she passed through the card room and into the assembly hall, she heard a man laugh—abrasive and sickeningly familiar. Lizzie went rigid as she looked left and right for the source of the sound, and then—there! At a card table on the edge of the room, she caught sight of a profile she knew all too well.
Collins.
If Caroline spotting her at this assembly had been bad, then being discovered here, unchaperoned, by Collins would be disastrous. He would surely embarrass her, but worse, he’d have no qualms about reporting her whereabouts to her father. And while she could lie to Mrs. Bennet and say she was having dinner with Charlotte this evening, she knew that Mr. Bennet would figure her out—and he couldn’t know about her tactics until after she solved the case and convinced him to give her the job!
Without looking to see where she was going, Lizzie made an ungraceful lunge toward cover. She meant to hide behind one of the pillars that ringed the ballroom but bumped into a tall, dark-haired woman who was already there, watching the dancers with a sphinxlike gaze.
“I beg your pardon,” Lizzie gasped.
“Not at all,” came the response. The woman had a long, rather large aquiline nose and heavy eyebrows. Judging by the fine lines around her eyes and the single striking gray streak to her dark hair, Lizzie guessed her to be in her early forties. Like Caroline, she was dressed just a shade more finely than the others in attendance. “Are you all right?” the older woman asked, her tone polite but without the same concern the gaggle of matrons had shown her earlier.