Darcy knew the next step would be to arrest and punish half the parish, and call in the militia to do it.And then how many more would be dead?One look at Mr Birch’s face made it clear that the magistrate would not yield, not when he thought he was acting for the greater good. Darcy might have said more about living with the possibility of letting a murderer go free, but Mr Birch’s daughter came skipping back towards them.
“I see that there is nothing more I can say to convince you,” he said, putting on a pleasant expression for the sake of the little girl, “but I feel that not calling in His Majesty’s Coroner is a mistake.”
“And I feel that calling one is.” Mr Birch bowed, and Darcy touched his hat. “Mr Darcy”—he turned back—“until you have experienced the role of an acting Justice, you cannot conceive of the fatigue I feel,” he said solemnly. “My head is full of parish rates, surveyors’ accounts, vagrants, runaway husbands, assaults, petty larcenies, militia lists and substitutes, and distress warrants. The welfare of the parish is a heavy burden. Molly Carew’s death could have been an accident, and we have no suspect if it was not. I shall not add to anyone’s troubles without certain cause.”
Mr Birch touched his hat, gave him a firm look, and then put on a smiling expression for his daughter before taking her hand and walking away.
Elizabeth enteredthe cool wine cellar where she had been told Carew’s body was kept and was surprised to see Miss Darcy standing at the foot of the table. The space was dim, but the ceiling was not very low, the floor was paved, the stone bins neatly filled with bottles and casks, and many candles had been lit. She was on the point of going away again to leave her in privacy, but Miss Darcy asked her to stay.
“I just sent away the maid keeping vigil,” she said, sniffing into a handkerchief, “but I find that I would like company after all.”
“Certainly,” Elizabeth said quietly.
“You are always coming upon me when I am overwhelmed,” Miss Darcy said, trying to smile.
“I only came to pay my respects. Carew had a solemness to her that was surprising in someone so young, but I liked her. It was clear that she was kind and caring in her way.” She ventured to put an arm around Miss Darcy’s shoulders and gave a tight squeeze. “I know she admired you.”
Miss Darcy nodded and dried her eyes. “She was not a gentle person, not open and motherly like Mrs Annesley, but I was never indoubt that she had my best interests at heart, that she cared for my happiness.”
“Of course she did. Is Carew being buried from this house?”
“No, she will be laid out at her father’s. He said yesterday that he would build the coffin himself. Fitzwilliam offered to hire a cabinetmaker, to take care of everything, but Mr Carew insisted.” Miss Darcy turned from the body and asked, “Do you... what think you of the missing candlestick?”
Her eyes were wide, and Elizabeth wondered if it was better to assuage Miss Darcy’s fears or admit that she shared them. Carew’s death had the appearance of an unfortunate accident, but Darcy’s pale face and grim manner last evening made it clear he thought that she had suffered a hideous violence. In her opinion, the reappearance of the taperstick, near to the body and with what looked like blood on it, could not be ignored. “It might be a coincidence. I suppose we shall know if there is an inquest into her death.”
The door then opened and Darcy entered, stopping short at the sight of them. Looking at his sister, he said, “I am sorry to disturb you. How are you bearing up?”
“I miss her.” Miss Darcy tried to put on a brave face, but Darcy came near and took her in his arms. After a moment when Elizabeth wondered if she ought to leave the siblings alone, Miss Darcy asked, “What did Mr Birch say?”
“He said that there is no cause for an inquest, that her death was a tragic drowning.”
“Oh! I am so relieved!” Miss Darcy cried. “I hate to think what fear she would have suffered—and who might have done so horrible a—oh, it is a tragedy, but I am relieved there was no crime.”
Miss Darcy rested against her brother’s shoulder, her whole body exuding relief, and Darcy met Elizabeth’s eye over her head. One look at Darcy’s face was enough to show that he did not agree.He is not reassured at all.
“Would you send the maid back in, Georgiana? After she has warmed up, I would like her to stay with Carew until the men take her to her father’s soon.”
Miss Darcy nodded and, with a parting look at what remained ofher devoted maid, left the cellar. Darcy took her place and bowed his head. Elizabeth wondered if he wished to have a moment alone, but the expression that had been in his eyes when he said there would be no inquest made her stay.
When Darcy finished and turned around, she asked, “You do not agree that it was an accident, do you?”
“I do not. The magistrate said that the candlestick is not conclusive reason to call an inquest, that there are other ways to explain it, and there is no indisputable evidence that a crime took place.”
“Then perhaps it was an accidental death,” she said weakly.
Darcy scoffed. “Mr Birch fears upheaval in the neighbourhood if the coroner finds murder, but we have no witness and no suspect to accuse. He wants the parish to take it as a drowning like the others from the first storm to avoid a riot or a scapegoat being sent to the gallows.” He gave her an earnest look. “You saw how frayed everyone’s nerves are when you took notes at the Pemberley Arms, but how can that justify letting a potential crime be ignored?”
She ached to have something useful to tell him, but there was nothing.
He looked at Carew. “I fear someone struck her, and she rolled into the water and drowned, or she was struck dead as soon as the base of that taperstick touched her.”
“There is no proof,” she said gently, “and the magistrate has put an end to the matter.”
“There might be proof if there was an inquest,” he muttered. In a thoughtful voice, and still looking at the body, he said, “With no inquest to see if she has water in her lungs, let alone if she was bruised from a struggle or if she was alive when she hit her head, we will never know.”
Elizabeth thought for a moment, and came nearer to the body, looking at the hands folded across the chest. “Have you ever seen women quarrelling over a man in the village square, or a woman defending herself from her ne’er-do-well husband?”
He gave her a confused look. “What?”
