Chapter 13
“Auntie Emma, can I have another piece of plum cake?”
Emma raised her eyebrows. “That would be your third piece, dear.”
“But I’m still hungry,” he protested. “Don’t forget I walked all the way to Hartfield and back.”
“That’s quite the hike,” said Harriet with a smile. “Surely Henry has earned another piece of cake. And after all, it is excellent. I didn’t realize Mrs. Hodges was such a good baker.”
“Serle baked it,” Emma dryly replied. “We’ve been getting supplies from Hartfield on a regular basis. My father is convinced we’re starving over here.”
Henry adopted a doleful expression. “Well, I’m starving.”
Emma relented. “All right, you may have another piece.”
Truthfully, she thought Henry too thin. The boy had a nervous energy about him, never seeming to settle. Emma certainly hoped he would inherit his mother’s loving disposition, but without Isabella’s anxious tendencies.
“If you don’t mind,” said Henry, “may I read my book while I eat my cake?”
Emma smiled at his earnest expression. The boy read well in advance of his years, and he’d been ecstatic to be let loose in Donwell’s library.
“Of course. You’ve been very kind to sit with us when I’m sure we’ve been terribly boring.”
“I like listening to you and Mrs. Martin,” Henry replied. “You make me laugh, Auntie Emma, especially when you poke fun at people you don’t like.”
Oh dear.
“I would advise you not follow my example in that regard, Henry. I don’t think your mother would be terribly pleased.”
“You’re not nearly as bad as my father. He makes fun of everyone.”
With that trenchant and too-accurate assessment, he departed for the other side of the drawing room, where he settled into an oversized armchair to read.
Emma made a comical face at Harriet. “I’m clearly a dreadful influence on my nephew.”
“Henry is a dear child but seems quite solemn to me. It’s wonderful that you make him laugh, because there’s nothing better than a child’s laughter. It’s the happiest sound in the world.”
Emma replenished her friend’s teacup. “Soon you’ll have your own child, who will no doubt give you a great deal of laughter and joy.”
Harriet’s hand flitted down to her burgeoning stomach. “It’s hard not to worry, though. It’s terribly exciting to think about having a baby, but first I have to go through … well, what if something were to go wrong?”
Emma took her hand. “You’re a very healthy person, dear, and your pregnancy has gone exceedingly well. You have a very capable midwife and an excellent mother-in-law. Mrs. Martin will take care of you, never fear.”
Harriet flashed her a grateful smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Knightley. You always know just the right thing to say.”
“Of course I do. Now, I feel like I haven’t seen you in an age. Not since before that dreadful party. I hope all is well at Abbey Mill Farm.”
“Yes, thank you. We’ve been ever so worried about you and Mr. Knightley, though, and about everyone here at Donwell.” Harriet grimaced. “It still feels impossible to believe. To fall out a window … it all seems so strange.”
This was the opening Emma had been looking for. Like Miss Bates, Harriet often found herself in possession of all sorts of interesting information. Her kind and cheerful nature was just the sort that encouraged others to confide in her.
“Speaking of that horrible party,” Emma said, “I was wondering if you’d heard anything about William Cox of late. He made a spectacle of himself, and I understand his mother is quite worried about him.”
Harriet quickly glanced at Henry, then cast Emma a furtive look.
“As a matter of fact, I have,” she whispered. “William has been behaving in quite a naughty fashion.”
“Don’t worry. Henry is completely ignoring us. Now, what do you mean by naughty?”
“Mrs. Cox told Mrs. Gilbert that she was worried about William, then Mrs. Gilbert told me when I was at Mrs. Ford’s picking up a piece of flannel to make a waistcoat for Robert.
” She twirled a hand. “Not that Robert actually wants me to make him a flannel waistcoat. He says it makes him sound like an old man with rheumatics, but I insisted on it. He’s outside all day in the cold and damp, you know. ”
Emma dearly loved her friend, but she had a tendency to get distracted by the mundane. “Very sensible of you. What, exactly, did Mrs. Gilbert tell you about William?”
“She said William had fallen in with some very low people. Not that Mrs. Cox has met any of William’s new friends …” She frowned. “At least I suppose that’s what you would call them. Anyway, she’s not met any of them, because none live in Highbury.”
“Did she mention where he met them? Perhaps in Leatherhead? It’s just the sort of place one might meet low companions.”
“I don’t recall her mentioning Leatherhead,” Harriet replied.
“Apparently, though, there are nights when William doesn’t return home at all.
Mrs. Gilbert said that when Mr. Cox demanded that William account for his whereabouts, William grew angry and stormed out of the house.
I found that very odd. William always had such a good relationship with his father. ”
“Did she say how long this odd behavior has been occurring?”
“For a few months, perhaps.” Harriet shrugged. “She wasn’t really sure.”
Prudence had moved to Donwell three months ago. William’s odd disappearances and behavior would have to have predated Prudence’s arrival in Highbury for there to be any credence to the notion that he met her in Leatherhead.
“William’s sisters are also quite worried and vexed,” added Harriet. “They think his bad behavior might damage their reputations.”
Emma scoffed. “That horse has already bolted the barn.”
Harriet tried and failed to smother a grin. Anne Cox was rather her nemesis, since the dratted girl flirted with Harriet’s husband whenever she had the chance.
“I do think Susan tries to be nice,” said Harriet. “And I know the girls were very embarrassed by William’s behavior at Donwell’s party. He was making quite a pest of himself, from what I could see.”
Startled, Emma leaned forward a bit. “You actually observed him pestering girls, then? Anyone in particular?”
“He spent half the night following Miss Nash about the hall. When he wouldn’t leave her alone, I went to her and made her come away with me.”
Emma frowned. “Miss Nash?”
“Yes. William was making quite a fool of himself over her.”
That was an unexpected and rather deflating revelation. Miss Nash was a schoolteacher at Mrs. Goddard’s establishment and a friend of Harriet’s. If William was so taken with Miss Nash, why then did he go on to bother Prudence?
Emma mulled that over for a few moments. “Did you see William bother any other girls that night?”
Perhaps after his intentions with Miss Nash had been thwarted, William had become frustrated and chosen an even more vulnerable woman to harass.
Harriet shook her head. “No. As I said, I made Miss Nash come away with me to the drawing room, so I didn’t see William for the rest of the night.”
“Was she upset by William’s behavior?”
Harriet looked a trifle disconcerted. “Not really, which I found very strange. Normally she’s so careful about her interactions with young men. But then she went off with one of the other teachers, and I didn’t speak to her again that evening.”
“Huh,” Emma muttered.
It seemed a bizarre episode, and not very helpful in illuminating William’s subsequent behavior toward Prudence.
“Is that everything you’ve heard about William?” she asked.
Harriet flapped a hand. “Oh, I forgot. There is one more thing. Mrs. Cox asked Mr. Barlowe to speak to William about his naughty behavior. She hoped the vicar could persuade William to give up his new friends and spend more time helping his father.”
“Yes, I was aware of that. I wonder if—”
“Auntie Emma, I finished my book,” Henry loudly announced.
Emma all but fell off the settee, since her nephew was now standing right on the other side of the tea table. Obviously, he was quite adept at sneaking—something she’d have to remember.
“Was it good?” she brightly asked.
“It was very good, but I’m not sure what to do next.”
Emma felt a stab of guilt. The poor lad was probably bored to tears listening to all this adult gossip.
Except it wasn’t really gossip. It was information gathering. Still, it was clear she’d gotten as much out of Harriet as was to be had. Emma needed to ponder her next steps, because she’d reached something of an impasse.
For now, that could wait. Henry needed some attention.
“I have an idea,” she said. “Why don’t we do a little exploring? Some of the storerooms and cellars have been neglected these past several years. I need to make an assessment for your Uncle George so we can decide what must be cleaned and repaired.”
Harriet looked surprised. “I cannot imagine Mr. Knightley or Mr. Larkins neglecting anything. Donwell always looks perfectly maintained to me.”
“The main living quarters, yes. But with only George residing here for so many years, it wasn’t practical to employ the number of servants necessary to maintain those parts of the house for regular use.
And, of course, he’s been at Hartfield these twelve months and more, so much of the abbey has been shut up during that time. ”
Henry jiggled with excitement. “I love to explore! Mama never lets me do that at home. She says it’s too dangerous in London.”
“It’s not dangerous here, so I’m sure Mama couldn’t possibly object.
” Emma stood. “I’d like to start at the bottom of the house and work my way to the top.
There are two cellars in particular that I’d like to examine.
Your Uncle George says they’re very interesting chambers that the monks used for storage when Donwell was still a working abbey. ”
“Do you think we might see a ghost? Perhaps one of the monks who was killed during the Dissolution?” Henry eagerly asked. “Some of them were hung, drawn, and quartered. Maybe we’ll even spot a headless ghost!”