Elizabeth recollected the handkerchief he had pressed into her hand, and began to dab at her face as she leaned against Mr. Darcy. She still despised him, naturally, and she was bitterly aware of having given him another reason to think her ridiculous. Even so, she was so bowled over at discovering thather uncle was her father, and that she had two entirely new sisters.Any port in a storm, she told herself.
“Please do not tell Miss Bingley,” she sniffled.
Mr. Darcy’s broad chest rumbled with laughter. “You have an uncanny talent for saying the last thing I would ever expect, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth found herself laughing along with him, rather wildly as she imagined him making haste to pen a letter full of gossip for his feather-headed friend. “Good Heavens, I suppose it may make quite a scandal for me. You ought to be demanding the return of your poor handkerchief.”
She pulled away from his embrace to offer him the crumpled thing. He laughed at the pathetic handkerchief in her hand before reclaiming it.
“I never thought to ask who my mother is,” Elizabeth murmured. Her mind was full of the look between her uncle and Lady Allen as they fussed over Harriet and Cathy. It was as if she had been thrust into an entirely new family, and in the midst of a grisly mystery.
And then there was a scream from the parlor, and they both glanced to the doorway in alarm. Mr. Darcy stepped toward the parlor, only to stop abruptly. “It has gone dark,” he said.
The whistle of wind blended with various shouts and cries, and Elizabeth heard Cathy call out, “The wind blew open the windowpane and snuffled out the candles.”
Elizabeth retrieved the single taper candle that still burned in the center of the dining table. She and Mr. Darcy returned to the parlor and halted when her candle illuminated the body of Captain Tilney sprawled across the floor, his neck twisted at an impossible angle.
Chapter Four
Chaos erupted in the parlor. Elizabeth held up her hand to shield the flickering flame from the rainy wind that blew in the open window, while Mr. Darcy hastened to latch the window closed again. When he had done this, Elizabeth stepped in a wide arc around the prone form of Captain Tilney to light some of the other candles. She was trembling so much that Emma came to her aid.
“I think his neck is broken,” Mr. Rushworth observed.
“We can see that,” Mr. Tilney cried, tears in his eyes. “But everybody stay where you are. Who was near Fred?”
A chorus of accusations followed, as they all cried out the names of those who had been standing close to Fred before the light went out, and several of them insisted they had felt their companions moving about.
Most noticeably, Mrs. Clay and Mrs. Younge had fled the room. “Well, there you have it,” Lady Susan said, gesturing at the open doorway they had escaped through.
“No, it was not them,” Emma said. “I heard them whispering, just before the window blew open. Mrs. Younge said that she did not want to be made to expose the secrets of others for fear of meeting the same fate as the general, and Mrs. Clay agreed.”
“Then they have probably fled for their own safety, and I cannot blame them for it,” Mr. Tilney said, still staring aghast at his brother’s lifeless form.
“You warned your brother against airing everyone’s secrets,” Mr. Parker observed. “It is fortunate you are not aware of them, or notallof them, anyhow, else you might meet the same fate.”
“Are you threatening him, sir?” Lady Susan said, mentioning that gentleman’s proximity to the captain minutes earlier.
“I am certainly not, and I begin to think all your barbs must be deflection, madam.”
“Well, here is another – I think it very odd that Mr. Tilney should warn his brother of danger just moments before he was killed.”
Harriet swooned, and Lady Allen cradled her on the sofa, while Emma rushed to her friend’s side and fanned her face. Elizabeth began to feel similarly overcome, and Mr. Darcy gestured to the nearby sofa. She sank down in a daze, her eyes fixed on Sir Edward, if only to avoid the sight of the dead man.
Sir Edward smiled sadly at Elizabeth, but she was glad that he did not approach her. She nestled herself into the sofa, and Mr. Darcy sat down beside her, silently assessing the situation.
“We must find a way to go for the magistrate,” Mr. Rushworth said.
“You are perfectly welcome to swim the freezing moat,” Sir Walter drawled.
“We must find the key,” Cathy cried, latching onto Mr. Tilney in her enthusiasm.
“He might have hidden it anywhere, the shifty bastard,” Mr. Crawford huffed.
“Then we shall have to find it,” Emma said.
“And then what?” Mr. Crawford scowled and shook his head. “Let the murderer go free?”
After a great deal of clamorous bickering, half the party wished to locate the key that would allow them to lower the drawbridge, while the other half of them felt sure that wishing to make such a hasty escape was surely a sign of guilt. Mr. Tilney and Mr. Crawford were nearly at the point of fisticuffs after the dispute, and though some of the other gentlemen moved to restrain them as their argument intensified, Mr. Tilney would have the last word.
