Page 74 of Murder in Highbury
Emma conceded the point. “Then I’ll leave the matter in your capable hands.”
“Thank you. Now, are there any other secrets you’d like to reveal at this time?”
She rose and headed for the door. “Only that Mrs. Goddard and the Bates ladies are joining us for dinner. Father sent round a note to invite them this afternoon.”
Her beleaguered husband simply sighed.
“Not to worry,” she said. “I’ll seat you next to Mrs. Bates. With any luck, you can both have a refreshing nap during the dessert course.”
His snort of laughter followed her out of the room.
They were sitting in the drawing room after dinner when a footman entered and murmured in George’s ear. His eyebrows ticked up as he listened.
“Mrs. Goddard needs another glass of sherry, my dear,” Emma’s father said, pulling her attention away from George.
“Of course. Forgive me.”
Father and the ladies were at the card table, engaged in a round of whist. For this evening, at least, Miss Bates could forget about dead bodies and pestering constables and enjoy the company of friends.
George came over and drew Emma away from the group. “My dear, Mr. Elton has come to call.”
She cast a worried glance at Miss Bates. “I suppose we cannot have him standing out in the hall. You’d best invite him in for tea.”
“He wishes to speak to us privately. I told Simon to put him in the library.”
Now what?
“You go ahead, George. I’ll replenish the refreshments and then join you.”
After he left, she quickly refilled glass and cups and dished out scones and jam. Then she touched her father’s shoulder.
“Dearest, I must step out for a moment. Ring for Simon if you need anything.”
Her father, intent on his cards, nodded. “Whatever you wish, my dear.”
Breathing a sigh of relief to have escaped questioning, Emma slipped out.
“Mrs. Knightley, a thousand pardons for disturbing you,” Mr. Elton said as she entered the library. “But this truly couldn’t wait.”
More problems.
“It is no matter, sir. Would you like a cup of tea or perhaps a sherry?”
“You are too kind, but I have no wish to disturb your evening more than necessary.”
She ushered him to a club chair, while she and George sat opposite on the chaise. Instead of getting straight to the point, however, the vicar breathed out a sigh and fell into a melancholic study.
“Mr. Elton,” George said after several long moments. “I’m assuming the matter you wish to discuss touches on the murder investigation?”
“What?” He winced. “Forgive me, my mind tends to wander. Yes, it does touch on that, although it may be nothing at all.”
Perhaps the note from Dick Curtis?
“If it can be construed as evidence,” George replied, “you should take it directly to Constable Sharpe.”
The vicar hesitated. “I’m not entirely sure what to make of it, sir. I must also admit that I find Constable Sharpe’s manner unhelpful at times, so I thought it best to consult you first.”
“A wise decision, Mr. Elton,” Emma said with an encouraging smile.
