The Secret Life of Miss Mary Bennet, Katherine Cowley [books successful people read .TXT] 📗

his men to prepare to move the body, and Mr. Withrow took it upon himself to make sure the job was done properly. The wagon was brought up the beach, and it seemed quite likely, with the men’s handling, that Mr. Holloway would lose a limb, in addition to all he had already lost.

At one point, Monsieur Corneau took Colonel Coates aside. After a brief conversation, the Frenchman once again approached her.

“Miss Bennet, I have what may seem a peculiar request. Since Colonel Coates and this regiment arrived in Worthing six months ago, I have been assisting him in his work, particularly in keeping him informed about this community.” He paused, and Mary wondered if he was attempting to be dramatic. “We would like you to observe if anything unusual might occur at Castle Durrington, whether it be the behaviour of the servants or the actions of Mr. Withrow and Lady Trafford.”

“Have they done something wrong?” asked Mary.

Corneau looked meaningfully at the body, which was now mostly in the cart, and largely covered by a blanket. “I do not know if they have or have not. But in case they have, we need to know. We need you to be our spy in their midst. It is of utmost importance.”

“A spy?”

Corneau nodded.

Mary looked at the body, then to Mr. Withrow. To spy on her hosts, that was a serious request indeed. She looked out to the sea, to the water that had changed everything in a moment, when it had washed the body ashore.

As a guest at Castle Durrington, she was uniquely suited to perform this task. Yet merely being in the right place was not enough to be successful in this sort of endeavor. She swallowed, attempting to rid herself of a sudden sense of inadequacy, but she could not escape the feeling. She was just Mary Bennet, an unimportant middle child in a normal family. Who was she to be a spy—who was she to do something of import? If she was honest with herself, she had achieved nothing of consequence her entire life. It was preposterous to think she could do so now. If her family were here, Kitty and Lydia would laugh at her delusions of grandeur. Elizabeth would make some clever comment but would not think her capable. Jane would say something kindly and supportive but would then attempt to dissuade her. Mrs. Bennet would express vocal disbelief, and her father… Well, if her father were alive, he would call her silly.

She opened her mouth, about to make excuses as to why she could not do what Monsieur Corneau and Colonel Coates asked of her, but then she stopped herself. Why could she not be something more than she had always been? Corneau and Coates obviously thought her capable. She pictured herself: confident, intelligent, driven to discover the truth, unravelling key clues that would lead to the apprehension of the murderer. Suddenly, she wanted to accept, wanted it more than anything.

She had left her home, she had left her family, and now she must leave behind her previous roles and become something more.

Mary looked confidently into Monsieur Corneau’s eyes. “I will do it.”

“Thank you, Miss Bennet.” The Frenchman smiled and returned to the colonel’s side.

Finally, the corpse was secure and the wagon ready.

“Come, Miss Bennet,” said Mr. Withrow. “If you stay much longer in the elements, you may catch a chill. It would be best if we returned to the castle.”

“Very well,” said Mary, smoothing out the skirt of her black dress.

“Wait one moment,” said Colonel Coates. “I need a brief word with Miss Bennet.”

He led her farther down the beach, and they watched the waves. Strange, to think that a few hours ago she had stood like this with Mr. Withrow. How quickly everything could change. Once again, her thoughts went to her father, to her loss that was ever present, never ceasing.

Colonel Coates looked at Mary with kind eyes. He reminded her of her grandfather on her mother’s side. “This must be such a terrible way to start your visit to Worthing,” he said. “Do you still feel safe here?”

Even though she had been asked to spy on Mr. Withrow, Lady Trafford, and their servants, Mary could not bring herself to believe that anyone at Castle Durrington or in Worthing meant her harm. “I feel safe.”

“I trust that Mr. Withrow and Lady Trafford will do everything they can to keep you safe and comfortable, and ensure a pleasant stay, but if at any time you feel threatened by anyone or anything, please come immediately to me, and I will help you with all the powers at my disposal.”

“Thank you, Colonel. I appreciate it.”

“You are a very brave young woman,” he said. “Remember that.”

Colonel Coates and his men went on their way to Worthing, and Mr. Withrow walked next to Mary back to the castle, holding the reins of his horse. During the long walk, Mr. Withrow said not a single word to her, not even when it started to rain. She did not know him well, but he seemed upset, and she could not help but wonder: Was Mr. Withrow upset about the death of Mr. Holloway because they had been friends, or was he upset that Mr. Holloway’s body had not remained deep in the sea?

Chapter Ten

“WORTHING—The body of Mr. Frederick Holloway was found on the beach east of Worthing on Monday. Mr. Holloway had been stabbed with a knife and drowned. Mr. Holloway was a well-respected vicar in Crawley, where he had served for twelve years. He was thirty-six years of age, in healthy condition, and known to visit friends and acquaintances in Worthing on a regular basis. Local authorities have offered a reward of five pounds for any knowledge of Mr. Holloway’s death which would lead to the apprehension of the perpetrator.”

–The Kentish Gazette, Kent, Surry, and Sussex, England, September 14, 1813

“Incompetency,” declared Sir Richard Pickering. “Incompetency on all sides.”

The magistrate from Brighton had come to assist with