Murder at Mansfield Park

Norris? As I understood it, she was to take charge of the nursing.’
    ‘Well, if you call it taking charge. There’s been a lot of shouting and bawling, and calls for footmen in the middle of the night, but not much of any use, in my opinion. If you ask
me, she’s never got over the shock of Miss Fanny taking off like that. That marriage was going to be the making of her. Her and Mr Norris both.’
    The mention of Edmund’s name recalled Mary to herself, and she hastened to thank Mrs Baddeley for her tea and depart, before she found herself made the confidante of observations of
an even more awkward nature.
    She had almost given up any hope of seeing Edmund, but as she went back up the stairs she saw him at the outer door in the company of Sir Thomas’s steward. The two were deep in serious
discussion, and it was several moments before they became aware of her.
    ‘My dear Miss Crawford,’ said Edmund at once, ‘do forgive me. I have been engrossed, as you can see, with Mr McGregor.’ He stopped, momentarily discomfited. ‘I
recall now that you were so good as to agree to call on us today. I have had so much to attend to since my return that my mind has been too much engaged to fix on any thing else. Were you able to
see my cousin?’
    Mary shook her head. ‘Miss Julia is not well enough to be disturbed. I am afraid it is as I feared.’
    Edmund nodded, his face grave. ‘My reason hopes you are wrong, but my heart tells me otherwise.’
    It was the first time she had ever heard him speak so; his manner was as serious as ever, which was only to be expected, but there was a composure in his mien that she had not seen before. She
was still pondering what this might signify when he enquired whether she might like to accompany him to inspect the channel for the new cascade.
    ‘I am sorry that my time is so occupied this morning, but Mr McGregor wishes to consult me on a number of practical matters before he allows work to resume. It is a fine morning for such a
walk, and it may interest you to see the progress made on your brother’s plans? I am sure the paths will be quite dry.’
    As Mary well knew, the path a gentleman considers to be dry enough for walking, may still prove ruinous for a lady’s shoes, but she elected to keep her concerns to herself, and the three
of them made their way into the garden and across the park. She thought regretfully of the tête-à-tête she had so fondly imagined; no doubt it had been fanciful to expect
Edmund to open his heart to her, when so much remained uncertain, and his family was in such affliction, but the presence of a third person prevented any conversation beyond the most common-place
remarks, and Edmund was soon deep in discussion with Mr McGregor on the subject of the excavations.
    ‘This first channel was cut some days, ago, sir,’ the steward was saying, as they approached the place, ‘but there has been so much rain since then that we were obliged to
desist. I became concerned when one of the side walls began to fall away. In Mr Crawford’s absence, I thought it best to wait until I might consult with you on the wisdom of
proceeding.’
    They had just reached the edge of the chasm, and the base of the channel came into view. Many times thereafter Mary would try to recapture the exact order of events, but however hard she strove,
the picture always remained confused in her mind. She remembered seeing what appeared, at first sight, to be a dirty bundle of clothes, lying at the bottom of the trench; she remembered wondering
how they came to be there; but she could never remember whether it was the stench, or the sight of that terrible face, that revealed the true nature of what lay before her.
    She saw McGregor start back in dismay, and cry ‘What the devil—’, but then her head began to spin, and there was a buzz in her ears. She turned and stumbled a few yards, before
sinking on her knees in the damp grass, without the least thought of the injury to her gown. ‘Please God,’ she thought, ‘—not again—do not ask me to endure such a
thing again.’
    She could hear Edmund’s voice behind her, and even in her confusion, it struck her how oddly his calm and measured tone jarred with the horror that now filled her mind.
    ‘Mr McGregor,’ he was saying, ‘could I prevail upon you to return to the house at once and summon the constable? You should also send a messenger to Mrs Grant at the
parsonage—Miss Crawford has been taken