Jane and the Genius of the Place: Being the Fourth Jane Austen Mystery by Stephanie Barron Page A

convey her to Canterbury,” Neddie answered gently, and clapped the boy's shoulder. “She must lie for a while at the Hound and Tooth, for there will be an inquest.”
    “Inquest? But that rogue as did for 'er is standing 'ere, large as life!” the boy spat out, and his fists clenched again. “If I'd been with 'er, as I shoulda been, you wouldn't be looking so easy, Mr. Collingforth, sir!”
    “Hold your tongue, Tom,” Neddie said sharply. “This is not the time or place for harsh words. The coroner will determine Mr. Collingforth's guilt. You must tell the housekeeper where Mrs. Grey lies—the Hound and Tooth, in Canterbury.”
    “I'll tell 'em everything,” he replied, his face crumpling once more. “They'll want to come and see to 'er.”
    “I'm afraid that will have to wait until after the coroner has examined the corpse. Now off with you both to the stables!” Neddie's voice was stern—a palpable support, at such a time. “You have a duty that cannot wait.”
    “Aye, sir.” The tyger touched his cap, the jockey bowed, and away they dashed without another word.
    “Neddie,” Lizzy murmured in his ear, “I cannot like Fanny's situation. Miss Sharpe, too, is most indisposed.”
    “I shall send you back to Godmersham with Pratt.”
    “Not until the constabulary arrives,” Lizzy replied firmly. “I will not quit the scene until I know how things stand with Mr. Collingforth. I am in part responsible for his discomfiture, but I thought it necessary to speak.”
    “Undoubtedly. You did well. Jane!”
    “Yes, Neddie?” I joined them in a moment.
    “I should dearly love another pair of eyes. If you and Lizzy would return to the coach, and from that vantage survey the crowd for anything untoward—the slightest detail that might seem amiss—it should be as gold.”
    “With alacrity,” I said, and slipped my hand through Lizzy's arm.
    “And now, Mr. Collingforth,” Neddie said, as we turned away, “I must ask leave to search your chaise. Stand aside, Mr. Everett!”
    “W HAT A CURIOUS LIGHT THIS SHEDS UPON ONE'S NEIGH bours, to be sure.” Lizzy sighed, as her green eyes roved intendy over the equipages drawn up helter-skelter near our own. “There is Mr. Hayes, busding all his party into a closed carriage, and intent upon his return to Ashford. He will not stay a moment, even in respect of the dead— the chance at seizing a clear road before his fellows is too tempting to be missed. Lady Elizabeth Finch-Hatton is pretending to an indisposition. See her there, with her kerchief over her face? I suppose I brought on a fit, by descending from my barouche and approaching the corpse. What a comfort that we need not be so nice, when Lady Elizabeth is on display!”
    “I admired your activity, Mrs. Austen,” Miss Sharpe said suddenly. “I wished that I might imitate it. That dreadful man required an answer!”
    'You observed the lady to enter his chaise as well?”
    “Yes,” the governess replied, her eyes averted, “but I did not remark her leaving it. I cannot recollect the slightest instance of her passing, in fact, until the moment that litde Fanny espied her at the rail—mounted on the black horse, and at the very moment of joining the fray. I shall not soon forget thatF
    “Nor any of the day's events, I am sure,” Lizzy replied. “It is quite an introduction, Miss Sharpe, to the elegant delights of Canterbury Race Week. I am sure your friends the Portermans will be appalled, when they hear of it, and shall request your immediate return to London.”
    Anne Sharpe glanced up at her mistress swiftly, then dropped her eyes once more to the little chapbook.
    “I cannot tell the answer to your riddle, Sharpie,” said Fanny fretfully, “and I am very hot and tired. When will Papa be done?”
    “In a litde while, my dear,” her mother said, “in but a very litde while. Lay your head upon my lap, if you choose, and endeavour to sleep.”
    While my sister smoothed her daughter's curls, I