Murder at Netherfield by Jann Rowland

Author:Jann Rowland [Rowland, Jann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781987929935
Publisher: One Good Sonnet Publishing
Published: 2018-07-25T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter XIV

The last day of November was now upon them, and as fickle as the weather had been, coupled with the mood at Netherfield, Darcy decided it would be best to determine the state of the outside world. To that end, he approached the butler, knowing any reports of the roads would find their way to him. His hope that the Bennet’s would be allowed to return to their home and that he and Fitzwilliam could leave to see their aunt’s body back to Kent, however, were dashed.

“I believe it ought not to be attempted, Mr. Darcy,” said the butler. The man fixed him with an apologetic glance, one which bespoke his hesitation—likely he expected a Miss Bingley-like reaction to his news. “Though the snow has ceased falling, it still snows in fits and starts, and the cold and wind complicates the matter. It is uncertain the horses could even navigate the roads, let alone the wheels of a carriage.”

“Could a lone rider make his way to Longbourn?” asked Darcy. “If only to gather more clothes for the ladies.”

The butler thought on this for a moment. He seemed to sense that Darcy would not react like his mistress and was encouraged to respond with candor. “Again, I think it would be best to refrain at present, Mr. Darcy. Perhaps tomorrow, should the weather improve, we may attempt it. Today it is best to wait.”

It was not what Darcy wished to hear, but he knew the man was doing his best and relaying information as accurately as he could. Thus, Darcy thanked him and excused himself, much to the poor man’s relief. Darcy judged the unfortunate Mr. Forbes’s replacement to be competent, but he was too green for the position. Unfortunately, there was nothing they could do at present, and Darcy was certain a replacement would be the responsibility of the owner, regardless.

“You appear less than happy,” said Fitzwilliam as soon as Darcy stepped into the library where Fitzwilliam was leaning back in his chair with his boots on a nearby table, apparently lost in thought. “Has Mr. Collins been spouting his usual nonsense again?”

Darcy scowled. Though Collins had said nothing since the scene in the entrance hall that morning, Darcy was still annoyed. Several times during the remainder of the morning he had caught Collins watching Miss Elizabeth, a hint of possessiveness in his gaze and attitude. Darcy had thought to call the man on his behavior more than once.

But then Darcy remembered the morning, and his feelings softened. Mr. Bennet was an intelligent man, though Darcy judged him to be more than a little eccentric. He had proven a worthy opponent across a chessboard, which Darcy would always think a point in a man’s favor. Furthermore, when Darcy had played Miss Elizabeth, he found that Mr. Bennet had not overestimated his daughter’s abilities. Darcy had been hard-pressed to emerge victorious.

“You have won this round, Mr. Darcy,” said Elizabeth as she toppled her king. “But rest assured that I shall play with my full abilities next time.

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