Chapter 4 #2
Mrs. Gilbert and Mrs. Cole exchanged a swift glance, agog with barely repressed excitement.
“Of course, sir,” Mrs. Cole replied. “We won’t say a word to anyone.”
They will absolutely say a word to everyone.
By dawn, every household in Highbury would know a dead body had been discovered at Donwell.
Mr. Weston, with a surprisingly firm manner, steered the Coles and the Gilberts outside. They were actually in the middle of saying their farewells when he slammed the wide oak doors in their faces.
“Oh dear,” said Mrs. Weston with a sigh.
Meanwhile, the coroner and the constable were standing in the middle of the hall, glaring at each other like bantam cocks about to employ their spurs.
The two officers of the law could not be more unlike.
While Dr. Hughes was a large, portly man who moved and spoke with ponderous dignity, Constable Sharpe lived up to his name.
He was all sharp angles and elbows, with a tendency to bark his way through every situation.
He reminded Emma of a badly trained terrier, darting here and there, making a fuss.
To be fair, both men did take their jobs seriously and tried to execute their duties with diligence.
Unfortunately, neither possessed a superior intellect, and both were prone to jumping to ridiculous conclusions.
And while Dr. Hughes always exercised a degree of courtesy toward Emma because of her station, it was obvious that both men resented her.
She supposed she couldn’t blame them, since she’d been the one to solve Mrs. Elton’s murder, not they. Constable Sharpe had been particularly offended, while Dr. Hughes had been mostly shocked by what he saw as an unseemly involvement in matters violating female decorum.
Hoping to disrupt the glaring match, Emma cleared her throat. “Gentlemen, I’ll escort you to the library.”
“Is that the scene of the crime?” the constable barked.
Just like a terrier.
Mr. Weston tactfully intervened. “Emma, do you wish us to stay? We should be happy to lend any assistance.”
She flashed him a grateful smile. “No, you must get home to little Anna. George and I cannot thank you enough.”
Mrs. Weston enveloped her in a hug. For a moment, Emma clung to her, taking comfort in the familiar embrace.
After making her farewells, Emma led Dr. Hughes and the constable into the long gallery. As the little group turned into the east corridor, they encountered Isabella and Mrs. Bates under the solicitous escort of Mrs. Hodges.
“Oh, Emma,” Isabella woefully said. “Father is in a terrible fret. I wish John were here. He would know exactly what to do.”
Dr. Hughes gave Isabella and Mrs. Bates a courtly bow. “A distressing ending to the evening, to be sure.”
“Indeed,” Isabella replied. “I hope you won’t keep my father any longer than necessary, Dr. Hughes. This is very taxing to his health.”
“We will do our best—”
“And who might you be?” Constable Sharpe abruptly interrupted.
Isabella blinked, but Mrs. Bates glared at him, her expression conveying the desire to brain him with her walking stick.
“This is my sister, Constable Sharpe,” Emma said. “Mrs. John Knightley. She has been staying with us at Hartfield.”
“Why is she leaving? I might need to take a witness statement from her.”
“My sister was not in the library when the incident occurred,” Emma said in a cool tone. “Mrs. Bates was asleep. She heard nothing and saw nothing.”
“Still, they ought to—”
Dr. Hughes held up an imperious hand. “If Mrs. Knightley says there is no need to detain the ladies, I am satisfied. This waiting about cannot be good for Mrs. Bates.”
Mrs. Bates gave a dignified nod. “Thank you, Dr. Hughes. This has been a particularly difficult evening for my daughter, as well.”
Sharpe registered a degree of alarm. “What does Miss Bates have to do with this?”
Might as well get it over with.
“Miss Bates discovered the body,” Emma said.
Dr. Hughes stared at her over his too-small spectacles. Perched halfway down his nose, they gave him the appearance of a perpetually surprised, albeit large, insect.
“Miss Bates discovered the body?” he asked with a degree foreboding.
His tone was understandable. Miss Bates had been one of several witnesses Dr. Hughes had questioned in the course of Mrs. Elton’s murder investigation last summer. It had been a frustrating experience for both of them.
“Yes, although my father was also in the room with her.”
When the constable muttered under his breath, Emma repressed a sigh.
Father had developed an unfortunate animosity toward both Constable Sharpe and Dr. Hughes, and had never hesitated to make his opinion known.
That had led to several awkward encounters last summer, and it looked like they were due for a few more.
Isabella made an impatient noise. “Emma, I must see Mrs. Bates home and get back to the children. It’s growing late.”
Emma nodded. “Once James has taken you both home, send him back for Father and Miss Bates.”
“Promise you’ll send Father home as soon as possible.”
“I promise.”
After exchanging a glower with Constable Sharpe, Isabella ushered Mrs. Bates toward the great hall.
After having a short word with Mrs. Hodges, Emma gestured for the men to follow her to the library.
“I’ve asked Mrs. Hodges to bring up tea, which I hope will make you more comfortable,” Emma said. “It’s quite dreadful to be dragged out into the cold night.”
Dr. Hughes nodded, his temper somewhat restored. “Your graciousness is greatly appreciated, madam. But as I witnessed earlier this evening, you are a most accomplished hostess. For your sake, I sincerely regret that such a convivial affair has ended on so unfortunate a note.”
“Yes. Very unfortunate.”
“Crime never sleeps, Mrs. Knightley,” the constable interjected. “It cares not for a party or the weather, as experience has taught me over the years.”
Emma tried not to clench her teeth. “There’s no evidence of a crime, sir.”
“No evidence, yet,” he retorted.
Praying for patience, she ushered the men into the library— just in time to see George and Mr. Perry coming in from the terrace.
“I agree with you completely, sir,” Perry was saying. “There can be no doubt in my mind.”
Dr. Hughes stopped dead at the sight of Highbury’s apothecary. “Mr. Knightley! I hope you haven’t permitted Mr. Perry to view the body. Amateurs should not be involving themselves in these matters, as you well know.”
Mr. Perry, an exceptionally mild-mannered person, simply crinkled his brow in perplexity.
Not so Emma’s father. He rose from his chair, the picture of mortal offense. “Dr. Hughes, if it’s your intention to insult our dear Perry, then I must greatly object. I hold his opinion in all medical matters to be above reproach. Unlike that of some in Highbury.”
Emma and George exchanged an exasperated glance. This horrible evening was fast careening downward to the level of gruesome farce.