Chapter 22 #4
Mrs. Cox anxiously peered at her. “I know what William did was very bad, but if this becomes common knowledge, I cannot imagine what will happen to him or to my husband. If my boy is arrested …” Her mouth trembled.
“Miss Nash won’t have anything to do with William if she finds out about this,” Susan dolefully added.
William’s face crumpled. For a horrible moment, Emma feared he might burst into tears.
George should really make the final decision on what course to take, but taking in the woeful faces of Mrs. Cox and her children—even Anne—Emma knew she couldn’t subject them to scandal and even financial ruin.
While William had been a reckless idiot, he’d managed to extract himself from a bad situation and was apparently trying to mend his ways.
Emma gave Mrs. Cox a reassuring smile. “I am going to share this information with Mr. Knightley, of course, and I will impress upon him the need to maintain your privacy. I see no reason to share William’s name with either Mr. Clarke or Constable Sharpe.
The information itself is what matters, not the source in this particular case. ”
She was going out on a limb with that promise, and could only pray it wouldn’t crack under her weight.
William all but collapsed into his chair with relief, while Mrs. Cox clasped her hands to her breast. “I shall be eternally grateful to you, Mrs. Knightley. Thank you.”
“Well, I should think Mrs. Knightley would help us,” Anne said, reverting to type. “We are her neighbors, after all, and neighbors don’t tattle on neighbors or lord it over them.”
Miss Bates, clearly appalled by the girl’s comments, shook a finger at her. “And you, Miss Cox, should learn to be grateful when one of your neighbors does you a great service. You should be thanking Mrs. Knightley, not making pert remarks.”
The unexpected reprimand reduced the room to astonished silence.
In all her years, Emma had never once heard Miss Bates render even the mildest criticism against anyone. Father clearly wasn’t the only person who’d undergone a remarkable change in the last year.
“Er, quite,” said Emma. “William what happened when you told the smugglers you wished to stop?”
He winced. “I … I just stopped going to meet them, actually. I saw how they dealt with people who didn’t do what they asked, and I wanted no part of it.”
Perhaps not the best course of action, but she couldn’t blame him. “I take it they know your real name and where you live.”
“Didn’t see any reason not to tell them. They seemed like regular fellows, to me.”
“William,” exclaimed his mother, “you have put us all in danger. Those ruthless men could come to our house and kill us in our beds!”
Susan again burst into tears, and even Anne looked frightened.
“I’m sorry, Mama,” he wretchedly replied.
As she waved smelling salts in Susan’s general direction, Miss Bates cast Emma a concerned glance. “Mrs. Knightley, what are we to do? Is there real danger?”
“William, when was the last time you met those men?” Emma asked.
“November. Haven’t gone near Kingston-on-Thames since then.”
“And no one has made any attempt to contact you?”
“Not a word. Nothing.”
Emma nodded. “Then I’m sure it’s fine. I wouldn’t worry.”
I hope.
Mrs. Cox, who’d taken refuge behind her handkerchief, resurfaced to cast Emma a hopeful glance. “Do you really think so?”
“I expect they don’t want to draw attention to themselves. And if they thought William was worth the effort, they would have already tried to contact him.”
The young man looked mortified by her assessment, but Emma couldn’t find it in herself to be sorry. He was getting off lightly.
Mrs. Cox blinked a few times. “So … so this is the end of it?”
“I should think so.” Emma rose to her feet. “Mrs. Cox, I’m very sorry for the distress this has caused you. I would not have brought this to your doorstep if I didn’t think it absolutely necessary.”
Mrs. Cox all but leaped to her feet and grasped her hand. “Mrs. Knightley, you have done us a great kindness. We can never thank you enough.”
The others also rose, the Cox siblings radiating various levels of mortification.
“William, I expect you to come to me or to Mr. Knightley if you think of anything else that could be relevant,” Emma said. “Or if you hear of anything else, especially if it pertains to Donwell Abbey or Mr. Larkins.”
“I will, ma’am. I promise.”
She and Miss Bates were halfway to the door before she realized she’d forgotten to ask a rather important question. “William, you said that as far as you know there was no connection between Donwell Abbey and this gang.”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“That includes any staff who might have previously worked there, correct?”
William frowned. “Why would any of your servants be involved with those men?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to mention Prudence, but she thought better of it. It seemed clear he’d told her everything he knew.
“Thank you,” she replied. “Don’t forget to write down everything and send it to me.”
“You may be sure he will do so immediately,” said Mrs. Cox. “Please, let me show you and Miss Bates to the door.”
Moments later, they found themselves on the street.
“Mrs. Cox was certainly eager to be shot of us,” Emma dryly noted as they headed up the street. “I believe she almost closed the door on the skirt of my pelisse.”
“I thought you were brilliant, Mrs. Knightley,” Miss Bates earnestly said. “I was so horrified by William’s dreadful tale that I could barely utter a word.”
“Nonsense, you were most helpful.” She smiled. “I especially enjoyed your reprimand of Anne.”
“I was rather shocked at myself, but I truly felt for poor Mrs. Cox.”
“Please feel free to deliver set-downs to Anne on a regular basis. It might even improve her manners.”
Miss Bates barely seemed to hear her. “It’s all such a muddle, Mrs. Knightley. What are we to do now?”
“I must speak to my husband. He’ll devise an appropriate response.”
Once, that is, George got through scolding her for haring off on her own yet again.