Murder at Longbourn

conversation in front of Polly about the details of her father’s murder was in bad taste. Thankfully, my incoherent sputtering was interrupted by the arrival of Lauren.

She looked amazing. She floated rather than walked into the room. Her long blond hair hung in a simple ponytail, giving her a youthful and somehow innocent appearance. Her skin glowed and her eyes appeared almost luminous. My first thought was that death became her—the death of her husband, that is. I snuck a peek at Daniel to gauge his reaction. His blue eyes watched her with what seemed a mix of open admiration and bemusement.

She glided toward our little group. She was holding a dog in her arms, clearly the inspiration for the ceramic collection. The dog eyed us with such an expression of enthusiastic desire that I found myself almost missing Lady Catherine’s icy disdain.

“I am so sorry to keep you waiting,” Lauren said. “Mrs. Jenkins tells me that you brought us some food,” she continued, addressing Aunt Winnie. “Thank you. That was very thoughtful of you.”

“It’s the least we can do,” Aunt Winnie replied.

Lauren smiled again but said nothing. Her message was clear. Thank you for the food, now please leave. I didn’t fault her. Only a ghoul would expect a wife to entertain guests mere hours after her husband had been murdered.

“What a lovely room you have here,” said Jackie, settling herself comfortably into one of the chairs. “You have such nice things,” she wistfully continued, delicately touching one of the hideous ceramic pugs.

Even Daniel’s composure was shaken at this audacious display. For the first time since I’d met him, he was speechless. It was Polly who spoke. “Thank you, Miss Tanner. Why don’t I have Mrs. Jenkins bring in some tea?”

“That’s very kind of you, Polly,” said Aunt Winnie, “but Elizabeth and I should go—”

“Oh, please stay,” Polly implored Aunt Winnie and me. “I insist.” I don’t think she wanted to deal with Jackie alone. I can’t say that I blamed her.

“Well, just for a little while,” replied Aunt Winnie. We both sat down.

“Thank you,” said Polly, with a grateful expression. “I’ll go and tell Mrs. Jenkins. I’ll only be a minute.”

From Lauren’s arms, the dog now gave an impatient bark. “Does my sweetums want down?” she crooned, lowering the dog to the floor. “Now play nice with our guests, Denny.” She smiled at us and added apologetically, “He gets a bit wound up with strangers.”

Super. I was stuck in a room with a hyper dog by the name of Denny, no less. More and more I felt as if this whole weekend was a terrible joke in awful taste and someone from Candid Camera was minutes away from popping out and admitting to the prank. But no one emerged from a hidden doorway to call an end to the gag. Instead, it got worse. Mere seconds after leaving Lauren’s arms, Denny hurled his body at my leg. With a low grunt of satisfaction, he wrapped one fat paw around my calf and then the other. Seconds later, he latched on and was furiously humping away, his pink tongue lolling out the side of his mouth and his eyes rolling back into his furry little head. Before I was the recipient of some premature pugalation, I jerked my leg, sending him flying flat on his back. Apparently Denny liked the rough stuff, because seconds later we were eye to eye, literally. He planted himself on my lap, his squashed face not two inches from mine, panting heavily. He appeared in no hurry to move.

“What a sweet little doggie,” Jackie said.

Daniel was overcome with a violent coughing fit that I was sure was designed to mask uncontrollable laughter. I glared at him from over the top of Denny’s furry head.

“I hope you don’t mind, Elizabeth,” said Lauren. Mind? Mind what? That the family dog was trying to molest me?

“Not at all,” I mumbled. “It’s just that I usually get dinner and a movie first.” Daniel’s coughing grew louder.

“Denny hasn’t been himself today,” Lauren continued. “I think he senses the stress. There’s so much to arrange. I’ve been on the phone all morning. But at least I was able to get through to Jamie.”

“Jamie?” repeated Jackie, instantly on the alert for new information. “Who’s that?”

Clearly regretting her words, Lauren’s answer came a half beat slow. “Jamie is my son,” she said. She eyed Jackie distastefully, no doubt anticipating that this information would be all over town by nightfall.

“Why, I didn’t know you and Gerald had a son,” exclaimed Jackie. Polly had returned in time to hear Jackie’s words. She looked aghast.

“We don’t,” replied Lauren testily. “Jamie is my son from my previous marriage.”

“Oh, I see,” said Jackie. “How old is he?”

“He’s fourteen,” Lauren said briskly. She smoothed nonexistent wrinkles on her sleeve.

“Such a wonderful age,” Jackie said, oblivious to the fact that Lauren seemed not to share her enthusiasm for the conversation. “Does he live with his father, then?”

“No.”

“Really?” The little white flowers quivered like radar picking up a signal.

Lauren made no further comment, and Daniel said curtly, “Jamie has special needs. He lives in South Carolina.”

Jackie’s mouth made a silent O, but thankfully she said no more. If she was aware of Lauren’s animosity, she was doing an excellent job of hiding it. Mrs. Jenkins entered with the tea tray and the rest of us busied ourselves with pouring and trying to make small talk.

“Miserable day out,” said Daniel.

“Yes,” said Aunt Winnie. “They’re calling for more snow, I believe.”

“Yes, I heard that, too,” I said to Denny’s nose. I debated shoving him off me but decided I’d rather have him sitting on my lap than molesting my leg.

“Downtown was a complete mess,” said Polly, as she picked up the silver teapot. “The streets are treacherous. I’m supposed to visit Harriet up in Brighton later this week, but unless the roads improve, I’ll have to cancel.”

“You went downtown?” asked Lauren. “I didn’t know that. When?”

Polly concentrated on filling Jackie’s cup before answering. “I thought I told you. I was sure that I did. I went this morning. I needed cigarettes.” She handed Jackie her cup.

“Speaking of which,” said Daniel, “I’m out. Can I pinch one from you?”

“Oh,” said Polly, “that’s right. I forgot. I should have picked some up for you.”

“Could you two please not smoke in here?” said Lauren, with a sigh. “You know it triggers my migraines.”

Jackie abruptly set down her teacup, spilling the contents in the process. “Oh, dear,” she said as she tried to mop it up with her napkin, “what a klutz I am. I’m always making a mess of things. Only this morning, I broke one of Linnet’s china figurines. I don’t know how she puts up with me. I really am sorry, Lauren. I hope I haven’t ruined your lovely chair.” Jackie’s face was pinched and worried underneath her hat.

“It’s fine,” said Lauren stiffly. “Please, don’t worry about it.”

But the incident seemed to prey on Jackie’s mind and she was silent for the rest of the visit. As I watched her over the top of Denny’s immovable head, I felt a surge of sympathy for her. After all, she was a lonely old woman whose only excitement seemed gleaned from the lives of others. Still, I was grateful for her silence. For, in the words of Jane Austen, I was quite sure that it would pass. And, no doubt, more quickly than it should.

When the tea was finished, Aunt Winnie and I made our excuses to leave. They were readily accepted. Even Jackie was ready to go. After extricating myself from Denny, I went out into the foyer to see about our coats.

On the hall table lay a stack of mail. On the top was a large envelope from the State Department. It was addressed to Polly. I laid my hand on it, my fingers feeling the definite outline of a passport. It would seem that Polly was going to Oxford after all. The question was, did she make that decision despite Gerald’s protestations or because she knew they wouldn’t be an issue?

I had just stepped back from the table when Daniel appeared behind me. “It was good of you to come, Elizabeth,” he said into my ear.

“Well, we wanted to see if there was anything we could do.”

“I see.” He turned me to face him. With an impish smile, he took my hands in his. I willed them to neither sweat nor tremble. “And have you done everything you can do?” His face was so close to mine that I could see the