Splinters flying. Wickham’s hand going towards the gun.
Colonel Fitzwilliam stood in his officer’s uniform in the doorway holding a pistol in level hands and a dueling stance. Several red uniformed soldiers stood behind him.
Wickham’s hand reached the pistol, and he started pulling it from the bar. The other men in the room though were holding hands up and backing away from the door.
Gasps and exclamations.
The loud report of a pistol.
Smoke.
A little bit of the blood splattered onto Caroline.
Wickham slumped and fell to the side.
He had a small tidy hole in the front of his head, and a big gaping bloody mess in the back where the bullet had left. Caroline stared down at the dead body, blood burbling out of the back of Wickham’s head.
She’d never had any idea that the wound might be bigger in the back.
The men in the corridor came in, several soldiers and several Bow Street Runners. Colonel Fitzwilliam came towards her. With a moan Caroline rushed to him, and threw her arms around him, and she sobbed desperately.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Even though she was supposed to stay outside by the door until Colonel Fitzwilliam told them that she might safely enter, the instant Elizabeth heard the gunshot she rushed into the little corridor.
Was Caroline injured? Dead?
Darcy tried to stop her from running in, but she’d moved too quickly for him to grab her. When she burst into the room, she saw Caroline embracing Colonel Fitzwilliam like she’d never let go, and sobbing.
The officer cradled her against his chest, and he still managed to gesture orders at his men.
The body.
Elizabeth pressed her hand tightly against her mouth to keep from retching. Wickham’s glassy dead eyes stared up. He was a handsome corpse. Except the hole. The vast collection of dark colored bottles of spirits behind the bar were sprayed with blood and bits of gray ooze that Elizabeth knew were the brains.
Darcy’s face went still as he looked at the corpse of the young man who'd once been his dearest friend. He then pulled Elizabeth back, and this time she did not resist.
Darcy said to Colonel Fitzwilliam, “Let us remove both of the ladies from this scene.”
There were a variety of other men, and one woman in the room, all of whom were under guard and being interviewed by the Bow Street Runners who Colonel Fitzwilliam had arranged to have waiting for them when the carriage reached London.
Colonel Fitzwilliam kept an arm around Caroline’s shoulder as he helped her walk out of the room, whispering quietly to her. Caroline looked at him with wide, scared eyes.
The other woman started shouting as they left the room, about how it was all Mr. Wickham’s fault, and how she would never do anything to annoy Mr. Darcy. An evil looking man with an oily black beard sneered at them all while his hands were tied behind. The drunk parson with a wrinkled white clerical collar looked quite confused by the whole situation, and he kept hiccupping.
The gentlemen left the room. When they reached the street Mr. Darcy handed Elizabeth to Charlie. He then firmly shook hands with each of the Bow Street Runners and the soldiers, and he gave their leader some money in thanks to share around.
Charlie kept muttering about how unhappy Mr. Bennet would be with him for letting Elizabeth be exposed to such a scene.
There had been a gun next to Wickham’s body, Elizabeth supposed it must have been his.
Caroline looked shocked and odd.
Blood on her face and blood in her hair.
Gray bits too, and a white boney bit.
Her eyes were wide and unfocused, and she pressed herself against Colonel Fitzwilliam, but then when they reached the outside, in the light of the sun, she suddenly seemed to realize that Elizabeth was there also, and she threw her arms around her instead.
