Chapter 12
For the second time in a just a few minutes, Larkins failed to respond to Emma’s question. From the gloomy frown that marked his countenance, whatever mental paths he was wandering along were not happy ones.
She exchanged a worried glance with Mrs. Hodges, who was seated next to Larkins on the other side of George’s desk. Since George was out at a vestry meeting, Emma had commandeered his library to meet with the senior staff to discuss the upcoming changes at Donwell.
So far, it had been something of a slog.
“Mr. Larkins, what do you think of Mrs. Hodges’s suggestion?”
He slowly raised his head, as if coming out of a trance. Then his gaze sharpened, and he dredged up a travesty of a smile. The poor man looked quite worn down. His gaze was shadowed and his normally ruddy complexion had turned pallid.
“Forgive me, Mrs. Knightley. What was the suggestion again?”
“We were discussing the possibility of renovating the old butler’s room and using it as an office for Mrs. Knightley,” Mrs. Hodges patiently replied.
Larkins nodded. “It’s a convenient location, close to the kitchen and service rooms. It’s rather small, though, Mrs. Knightley.
The old family breakfast parlor might do nicely instead, since it’s also near the service rooms. There’s a bit of wood rot so it’ll need some work, but nothing that can’t be fixed. ”
Emma shook her head. “I fully intend to convert that parlor into the family dining room. Then the servants won’t be required to traverse half the house with our meals. Mr. Knightley might be indifferent to properly heated food, but I find myself strangely attached to the notion of hot soup.”
Her comment finally won her a reluctant smile from Larkins. “That’s a fine idea, Mrs. Knightley. It’s well situated for that purpose.”
“The butler’s room will do nicely for me as an office. As long as the fireplace doesn’t smoke, I shall be quite satisfied.”
Larkins nodded. “I’ll discuss plans with the village carpenter first thing tomorrow. Do you want me to draw up some plans for the parlor, as well?”
“Yes, please. The sooner the better.”
Aside from the tepid soup, Emma was growing rather tired of Donwell’s meals in general.
Mrs. Hodges did her best with the one kitchen maid, but it was time to hire a proper cook.
Emma made a note in her pocketbook, and then perused the rest of her list. While there was much work to be done to properly fit up the house, the cellars, the service rooms, and the pantries took priority.
“I think that’s all for now,” she said, glancing up from her list. “I do want to have a good look at the cellars and the attics. Mr. Knightley tells me that they’ve been rather neglected, so I think it makes sense to start there.”
Especially since she intended to use them to store some of the rather ghastly and outdated furniture that populated several rooms in the abbey.
Though they were part of Donwell’s history, there was no reason to put up with a creaky, moth-eaten bed that family lore suggested had once been slept in by Queen Anne.
Larkins frowned. “I wouldn’t recommend spending time in those old cellars, ma’am. Very cold they are at this time of year, and they can be quite damp at times.”
She found that surprising. “I had hoped to expand their use for cold storage for food. I understand they were originally used as such.”
“Not since the old master’s time,” said Mrs. Hodges. “Seeing as the household has been so much smaller for years, there’s been no need for them.”
“That seems a great waste,” Emma replied.
“They can be restored to their original purpose with some work, ma’am,” said Larkins. “Just tell me what needs doing, and I’ll see to it.”
Emma nodded. “I will—once I’ve inspected them for myself.”
She was determined to familiarize herself with the abbey from top to bottom. It was her home now, and she wanted to know everything there was about the old place.
Larkins shook his head. “It’ll not be pleasant for you, ma’am. You might catch your death a cold, and then what would Mr. Knightley say?”
Goodness, the man could be stubborn. Then again, it was an adjustment for all the servants to have a mistress in the house again. Emma would do her best to accommodate them, but it was also necessary that they understood who was now in charge of domestic matters.
“I will be perfectly fine, Mr. Larkins. You are welcome to inspect them with me. I should be happy for your input.”
He looked slightly obstreperous before nodding. “I’m at your disposal, ma’am.”
“Thank you.”
Emma tapped her pencil on the list’s final item. This one was a bit trickier to deal with, given recent events.
“As we all know, we’re quite shorthanded in the house.
With Mr. Knightley and me back in residence, along with my nephew, the lack of adequate staff is a burden on all of you.
We must think about finding a new maid as soon as possible, even temporarily.
Perhaps someone from the village might be willing to take on the work until we can find a permanent replacement for Prudence. ”
Mrs. Hodges sighed. “I’ll ask around the village, ma’am. It won’t be easy to replace someone like Prudence on short notice, I’m afraid.”
Emma crinkled her nose in sympathy. “Mr. Knightley will soon be advertising for more staff, so just do your best in the meantime.”
Larkins had gone silent again, staring down at his lap.
If his expression was any indication, he was struggling to contain his emotions.
Emma was again surprised at his reaction to Prudence’s death.
It spoke of more than just a general fondness— like something that cut deeply to the bone.
She found it mystifying, given his temperament and the fact that he was so much older than Prudence had been.
“Mr. Larkins, I know all the staff are deeply troubled by what happened to Prudence,” she hesitantly said. “And I know there are questions regarding the manner of her death. Do you have any concerns you wish to share about what happened?”
When he jerked up his head, looking almost distraught, Emma’s breath caught in her throat.
“You can also bring any concerns directly to Mr. Knightley, of course,” she hastily added.
He seemed to struggle for a few moments before finding his voice. “It wasn’t right what happened to her. It makes no sense, either.”
Emma decided to follow her instincts. “Mr. Larkins, did you ever get a sense that Prudence was troubled by anything? Or anyone?”
He frowned. “I … I’m not sure what you mean, Mrs. Knightley.”
His reply left Emma at a loss.
Fortunately, Mrs. Hodges quickly responded. “I think Mrs. Knightley wants to know if you heard tell of anyone pestering Prudence. Even before that night, something seemed to be on the poor girl’s mind, something that mayhap troubled her.”
Larkins peered at her. “Who would bother that sweet lass?” Then understanding seemed to dawn, and a sudden fury ignited his gaze. “Do you mean a man was bothering her? You just tell me who it was, Mrs. Hodges, and I’ll take care of the bas—I’ll take care of him, I will.”
Emma almost gaped at him. The man had gone from perplexed to murderous from one breath to the next. If she even hinted about what they knew regarding William Cox, Larkins would probably storm into the village and throttle the man with his bare hands.
“It was a general question on my part,” Emma replied. “We’re simply trying to understand what happened.”
He shoved to his feet so forcefully that he almost knocked over his chair. “You’ll have to excuse me, Mrs. Knightley. I don’t know anything about what might have been bothering Prudence. If I had, I would have—”
He broke off, his hand curling into a fist. He made a visible effort to bring his emotions under control. “I beg your pardon, Mrs. Knightley. Is there anything else you’re needing from me at the moment?”
“No, I think we’re done for—”
“Then you’ll be excusing me. I have work to attend to.”
He turned on his heel and strode from the room. Emma and Mrs. Hodges exchanged an astonished glance.
“What just happened?” Emma asked.
“I’ve never seen the man so upset, excepting the night Prudence died. I’m sorry, Mrs. Knightley. Larkins is a good man, but he should know better than to snap at you like that.”
“There’s no need to apologize. And I’m going to assume that he doesn’t know about William Cox?”
“He doesn’t.” The housekeeper tapped the tabletop. “And I’d best tell that Harry to keep his mouth shut about it. If he were to blab it to Mr. Larkins, heaven only knows what would happen.”
“Mrs. Hodges, I know all the staff were fond of Prudence, but Mr. Larkins truly seems to be grief-stricken.”
Mrs. Hodges seemed to hold a small debate with herself before answering. “The fact is, ma’am, Mr. Larkins was in love with Prudence. That’s why he’s so despondent.”
It took Emma a moment to recover from her astonishment at such a revelation. “That’s really quite surprising. I thought him a confirmed bachelor, devoted to Donwell and nothing else. I used to tease Mr. Knightley that he spent more time with Larkins than with me.”
That Larkins, a middle-aged, taciturn man, would fall in love with a girl so young and so unlike him was indeed hard to fathom. Then again, she’d fallen in love with George, also a quiet man some years older than she was.
Mrs. Hodges shifted with discomfort. “I shouldn’t have said anything. The poor fellow would be mortified that I told anyone, much less the mistress.”
Emma held up a hand. “Believe me, I wouldn’t dream of violating the poor man’s privacy. My lips are forever sealed.”
The housekeeper flashed her a relieved smile. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Was Prudence aware of how he felt?”
Mrs. Hodges emphatically shook her head. “He was always careful and correct in his conduct toward her. I think she saw him more like an uncle. She was always very easy and open with him, which I think was part of the problem.”
Emma lifted an eyebrow. “In what way?”
The housekeeper hesitated, as if trying to find the right words.
“It’s just that Prudence was such a charmer—not that the girl was a flirt, or carried on with teasing a man. She was just so sweet and funny. And being away from home for the first time, I think Mr. Larkins made her feel safe. He watched out for her, you see.”
Emma nodded. “I think I understand. Her looks and sweet nature would make her rather irresistible.”
Mrs. Hodges sighed again. “That’s it, Mrs. Knightley. I’m certain Mr. Larkins wasn’t expecting to have feelings for the girl. But she seemed to draw him out of himself, if you know what I mean.”
“I do.”
“Not that he ever expected anything from Prudence,” Mrs. Hodges hastily added. “He knew the girl would never feel for him like that. Given their difference in age, and …”
“And the fact that he’s Irish Catholic?” Emma guessed.
The housekeeper made a face. “No one at Donwell gives a fig about that. Still, you know how some people are, Mrs. Knightley.”
Emma remembered some of the mutterings and mean-spirited comments when George had hired an Irishman—and a Catholic at that. Eventually, the locals had come to realize that Larkins was a fine man, and as dedicated to Donwell and its people as its owner was.
“Mrs. Hodges, are you the only person who knows how he felt about Prudence?”
“Yes, I’m certain of that.”
“Did you ever ask him about it?”
“Once, after I suspected how he was feeling. I’m responsible for the girls who work in the household, so I felt duty bound to ask him—for his sake as much for hers.”
Emma took in the rueful expression on the housekeeper’s face. “I’m guessing that went down a treat.”
“He told me I was daft if I thought he’d pester the girl, or think he was good enough for someone like her. He swore me never to say a word to Prudence or anyone else.” She sighed. “And here I am breaking my word, poor man.”
“Again, I won’t breathe a word to another soul, not even to my husband.”
“I’m obliged to you, ma’am.”
Now that Emma understood their estate steward’s odd behavior since the girl’s death, there was no need to draw further attention to it. What the poor man required now was peace and the time to recover from such a devastating blow.
“Mrs. Hodges, I think at this point the less said about Prudence, the better. You and Mr. Larkins would never engage in idle gossip, but we must be sure none of the other servants do, either. It would be most unfortunate if rumors were to originate here and then filter down to Highbury.”
The evolving situation, however, did make things a bit tricky for Emma, since any further investigations into Prudence’s death required both discretion and tact. Thank goodness she possessed a surfeit of both.
“Yes, ma’am,” said Mrs. Hodges. “The poor girl doesn’t deserve to have her good name bandied about, nor should anyone’s grief be made sport of.”
“And thank you for your honesty with me. It’s much appreciated.”
“Of course, ma’am. I’m always—”
The door suddenly opened, revealing Harry the footman. He hesitated, and then knocked tentatively on the door.
“Harry, you knock before you open the door, not after,” said an exasperated Mrs. Hodges.
“Sorry, Mrs. H. Sorry to interrupt Mrs. Knightley, but Mrs. Martin has come to call.”
Emma nodded. “Thank you, Harry. Where is she?”
“In the great hall, ma’am.”
Emma could all but hear Mrs. Hodges grinding her teeth.
“Mrs. Knightley’s friends are not to be left waiting in the hall,” the housekeeper said. “You should always show them to the drawing room.”
“Sorry, Mrs. H.”
Since Mrs. Hodges looked ready to deliver yet another Harryscold, Emma forestalled her by standing.
“I’ll go right now,” she said. “Harry, have you seen my nephew?”
“Up in the great hall with Mrs. Martin, as it happens.”
“Master Henry is in the great hall with Mrs. Martin, ma’am. That is the appropriate response, Harry,” Mrs. Hodges corrected. “Mrs. Knightley, will you be wanting the tea tray sent up?”
“Yes, please.”
As she went by him, Harry gave her a mournful smile. “I’m sorry for being such a dolt, Mrs. Knightley. I’m still at sixes and sevens because of Miss Prudence.”
“I understand completely.”
Despite his protestations the other day, Emma couldn’t help but wonder if Harry had harbored tender feelings for Prudence. Clearly, her effect on all the servants at Donwell had been profound.
Despite Donwell’s ancient and storied history, no ghosts had ever walked the vaulted halls and stone of the abbey. Now, though, a spirit did seem to linger over the household—one that spoke of sadness and a quiet grief.
Accompanying that sorrowful spirit were too many haunting questions that begged for answers.