Page 43 of A Victim, A Viscount, And Miss Mifford
"The Duchess of Northcott was spotted on Bond Street with several heavily laden footmen following in tow."
"Oh," Mary blushed, "That one might be true; the shopping is heavenly in London."
On they continued, until Mary grew tired of talking of London, and begged Sarah to update her on all the goings-on in Plumpton.
"There is little to report," Sarah answered with a laugh, "The Ladies' Society organised an assembly, which Jane has probably already told you about. It was perfectly pleasant, if a little dull. And, of course, you must have heard of Lord Crabb's unfortunate demise."
Jane stilled, not at the mention of Lord Crabb's murder, but at Sarah's assertion that the assembly had been "dull". Though Sarah was not the type to gossip, if she had discovered Prunella and Lord Crabb in a passionate embrace—and had been forced to inform Sir Charles—then she would certainly have shared the news that the pair were now engaged with her friends.
"Yes, the murder," Mary's eyes lit up, "Have you heard anything further? Jane said that the new viscount was rumoured to have perpetrated the crime, but she did not believe it so, and offered to help him investigate the matter."
"Good for you, Jane," Sarah congratulated her, "I am inclined to agree; he does seem too kind-hearted to commit murder. He purchased tickets for the assembly for all his staff; a very generous act and it rubbed Mrs Canards up to boot. Is there anyone you suspect might have done it, Jane? I know my brothers assumed it was something to do with the delay to the expansion of the mill. Emotions amongst the villagers were quite fraught, by all accounts."
"Yes," Jane answered carefully, "The viscount suspects something similar. He thinks that, perhaps, one of the farmers might have persuaded a member of staff to slip something into Lord Crabb's tonic—"
Jane was cut off by a sudden banging noise from outside the door. Sarah sprang to her seat with concern, and rushed to look outside to see what had happened.
"Prunella," Jane heard her exclaim, "I didn't know you were here."
"I just called over to drop something into Uncle Colin," they heard Prunella answer, "I did not want to interrupt when you had company."
"It's only Jane and Mary—I mean, the duchess-come in and say hello."
"I had really best be going," Prunella protested, her words quickly followed by the sound of footsteps scurrying away down the hallway.
"I apologise," Sarah said, as she returned to her guests, "As Jane already knows, Prunella has been most upset by Lord Crabb's murder."
Mary gave a strangled noise, which, at Jane's warning frown, she hastily turned into a cough. "I'm sure it was difficult for her," she said, as she cleared her throat, "Though she is young, and she will soon set her sights on a new viscount. Now, Sarah, thank you so much for the tea and chatter; I would love to stay but Northcott will send out a search party if I do not return soon."
"Call anytime you wish," Sarah replied, her tone kind for she had not understood the hidden meaning to Mary's comment. "It is so lovely to have you returned to Plumpton, Mary, the place has not been the same without you."
Mary looked momentarily guilty and to compensate, she spent the next few minutes offering her goodbyes and thanking Sarah profusely for her hospitality.
Once the two girls were safely ensconced in the carriage, Jane offered Mary a very shrewd stare.
"Oh, don't say anything," Mary huffed, despite the fact that Jane had said nothing at all, "It slipped out—and I cannot help but dislike this Prunella for attempting to steal Lord Crabb away from you."
"Lord Crabb was not mine to steal," Jane calmly pointed out, "Nor was Prunella aware that there was anything between us—and there was not, I fear it was all a figment of my imagination."
"Poppy-cock," Mary frowned, "What man could fail to fall in love with you? You are the prettiest girl in the parish."
"No, that is you," Jane smiled, happy to let the argument trail off, for she knew that Mary was motivated by sisterly loyalty rather than anything else.
They rode in companionable silence toward the village, but as they reached Lower Plumpton, Jane rapped on the roof of the carriage to indicate to the driver that she wished to stop.
"I shall walk from here," she said to her sister, "I have not been out all day and I need to clear my head."
"I would try dissuade you, but it would be a useless endeavour," Mary sighed, "Safe home, give my love to the others."
A footman opened the carriage door to assist Jane down, an unnecessary act of chivalry, for clambering out of the carriage was far easier than disembarking from the family's ancient gig. Jane waved her sister off and once the carriage was out of sight, she set off at a brisk pace.
Rather than taking the route through the village—which might necessitate conversing with people—Jane took the wooded path down to the river. The ground beneath her feet was rather mucky, though thankfully she had worn her sturdiest pair of boots. Mary's return to Plumpton, and her exciting news, meant that Jane had a spring in her step as she walked.
Yes, it was dreadful that things had not turned out as well with Lord Crabb as she might have liked.
Yes, if she knew she would get away with it, Jane would not be averse to throwing rotten fruit at his head.
But nobody had died, she reasoned with herself. Well, nobody else that she knew of, and Jane was not so upset that she was about to commit Plumpton's second act of viscount-icide in less than a month.
