Page 66 of Murder in Highbury
And with that, he led her off to bed.
CHAPTER14
“Are you sure Mr. Elton will wish to see us?” Harriet asked as they left Hartfield. “The funeral was but yesterday.”
Emma shifted the basket of puddings to her other arm. “We are making a very proper condolence call, and you know how much Mr. Elton enjoys our cook’s puddings. They will cheer him up.”
While it was true that she wanted to see how the vicar was managing, she remained curious about yesterday’s scene behind the lime walk. Despite George’s admonitions to leave well enough alone, Emma couldn’t help but be curious—especially about the state of the Eltons’ finances.
“I’m also hoping to ask Mr. Elton a few questions,” she added.
Harriet looked askance. “What sort of questions?”
“About the funeral and Mrs. Elton’s memorial.” Emma again shifted the basket.
Harriet reached for it as they turned into Vicarage Lane. “Let me take that. I’m sure it’s too heavy for you.”
Emma happily relinquished it. “Thank you, dear.”
“Why are you going to ask Mr. Elton about the funeral?”
“Because I find it odd that it was so plain. Mr. Knightley and I would have been happy to help him with the arrangements if he’d felt too overwhelmed.”
That sounded entirely reasonable, to her ears.
“But what if that makes him think he didn’t do it properly?” Harriet replied. “Won’t he be offended?”
“I will be very sensitive, naturally. Pay particular attention to his answer if I have the opportunity to question why Mrs. Elton did not write a will.”
Harriet shot her a surprised glance. “She did not? But even I have a will. Robert insisted I write one when we married.”
“Apparently, Mrs. Elton did not do the same.”
“Perhaps she just forgot.”
“It’s still odd, though. Harriet, it’s imperative that we specifically note anything that touches on the murder, including any information we might, er, stumble across.”
Her friend stopped dead in the middle of the lane. “Isn’t that what Constable Sharpe and Dr. Hughes are already doing?”
“That is what theyshouldbe doing, but I have little confidence in their talents or acumen.”
“Surely Mr. Knightley will know what to do, though.”
“Mr. Knightley is extremely busy, and I worry that he cannot depend on either Dr. Hughes or Constable Sharpe to investigate properly. Besides, it’s our duty as residents of Highbury to assist the law in any way we can.”
Especially since the law seemed to be haring off in the wrong direction.
“I don’t think Robert will like me getting involved, Mrs. Knightley,” Harriet dubiously replied.
“We’re not truly getting involved, dear. We’re simply collecting information, like you did with your scrapbooks, remember?”
“But they were just silly collections of riddles and poems.”
“Your scrapbooks are elegant and well organized. You have a talent for such things, dear. If we should discover anything—and I’m not saying we will—you can help me present the findings to Mr. Knightley in an accurate manner, which he will appreciate.”
She mentally crossed her fingers, since her beloved had made his thoughts on the matter of amateur investigating very clear. But this wasmurder, and one possibly committed by someone they knew, despite theories of random thieves or even vengeful ghosts. There was also the added complication of Miss Bates. She’d been cast under a shadow of suspicion, which had cut up her peace and the peace of all her friends, including Emma’s father.
No matter what George said, she found it impossible to do nothing.
