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

surveyed the milling crowd. 2 Several of the parties had no intention of awaiting the constabulary, as Lizzy had said. A clutch of horses and harness clogged the gates of the meeting-grounds, and it should be hours, perhaps, before the turf was cleared.
    “Tell me of Mr. Collingforth, Lizzy,” I said softly.
    “Collingforth? He is of no very great account, I assure you. Nothing to do with the Suffolk family, you know—a lateral heir, in the maternal line, who took the name upon his accession to the property.”
    “Yes, yes—but what sort of character does he possess? Is he the sort of man to conceal a fresh corpse in his carriage?”
    “I cannot fathom why any man should do so, Jane,” Lizzy retorted in exasperation, “much less contrive to discover it himself. Either he is very simple, or very devious, indeed—and my mind at present is divided between the two.”
    “He seems to hate Mrs. Grey.”
    She smiled mirthlessly. “Love often turns to hate, I believe—particularly when it is formed of obsessive passion. Six months ago, perhaps, Mr. Collingforth was very much in Mrs. Grey's pocket. But she tired of him, as she does of so many, and sent him on his way.”
    “And the affair was countenanced by Society?” I enquired.
    “Society, as you would style it, took no notice of either Mrs. Grey or Collingforth. Whatever their form of intimacy, it was quite without the pale of Canterbury fashion. Only Lady Forbes—the wife of the commanding General of the Coldstream Guards—condescended to visit Mrs. Grey after her first weeks in Kent, once the measure of her style had been taken; and Lady Forbes is very young, and cannot be trusted to know any better.”
    “I see. You said she tired of any number of gentlemen. A motive, perhaps, for her brutal end?”
    “Perhaps.” Lizzy's slanting green eyes rounded upon me. “My brother must be considered one of them, Jane— Mrs. Grey had him quite wrapped around her little finger—and Captain Woodford, of course. He has been intimate from boyhood with Mr. Valentine Grey, and has frequently called at The Larches.”
    I glanced at Miss Sharpe's sleek, dark head; her eyes were closed, and she appeared to be dozing. I lowered my voice all the same. 'You heard what Mr. Collingforth said of your brother?”
    “In company with most of Kent. I wonder where the blackguard has got to? I would dearly love to know what Collingforth meant by accosting him in that fashion, just before the body was discovered. There is something ugly between them, and Woodford, too, if I am any judge of appearances; and such things are so tiresome when they are thrown in the public eye. How I long to shake brother Edward until his teeth rattle in his head!”
    Our interesting discourse was broken at that moment by the arrival of the Canterbury constabulary, come at a gallop, it seemed, from town. They brought in their train a waggon draped in black; I knew it at once for a makeshift hearse.
    Neddie strode to meet them; consulted, for a moment, with the man who seemed to be their principal; and this last commenced to bark out orders, dispatching some of his fellows in one direction, and some in another. A few made immediately for the Collingforth chaise.
    Mr. Wood, the surgeon, placed his arm under Mrs. Grey's neck, and raised her slightly from the ground. The constables gathered at waist and feet. Neddie looked on, his arms folded across his chest and a line of care etched between his brows. And then Mrs. Grey, her unbound black hair sweeping over the surgeon's arm, was carried slowly to the black-draped waggon. The tide of the curious parted like a guard of honour, and not a whisper or a sigh was heard, as the men struggled forward with their unhappy burden.
    “I should like to go home, Pratt,” Lizzy said quiedy into the stillness. “Let us learn what Mr. Austen intends, and then seek the road without delay.”
    “Very good, ma'am,” the coachman replied. He jumped from the box at once—as he