Page 91 of Murder in Highbury
After parting ways with Harriet, she’d set off for Donwell. George had been in his study, trying to catch up on his work. Initially, he’d been surprised and rather annoyed to hear of her discussion with Mrs. Goddard. He’d bluntly expressed the opinion that Emma should have come to him first before marching off to interrogate potential witnesses.
Emma stuck to her guns. As had been the case with Miss Bates, she remained convinced that Mrs. Goddard had been more forthcoming with her than she would have been with George. After a few tart remarks about interfering in official investigations, he eventually agreed. Thankfully, he also agreed that there was no immediate need to further question Mrs. Goddard or relay what Emma had discovered to Constable Sharpe. Instead, George deemed it necessary to acquire additional information before proceeding further.
“Will that require a closer look at the Eltons’ finances?” Emma asked.
“Yes, and I’d like more information about Suckling’s finances, as well. There are too many unanswered questions to continue ignoring that line of enquiry.”
Emma thoroughly approved, since Mr. Suckling had become her favorite candidate as the murderer. There was clearly trouble between the in-laws, and money seemed to be at the heart of it.
After a brief discussion on how to go about such an enquiry, George decided to write to his brother, John, who resided in London. Married to Isabella, Emma’s older sister, John was an accomplished barrister with a thriving practice. If anyone could unearth the necessary information about Mr. Suckling’s finances, it would be he.
As for discovering the truth of Mr. Elton’s financial situation, George insisted she leave the matter with him. A bit reluctantly, she agreed—mostly because she couldn’t imagine the circumstances in which the subject would naturally arise.
Now she had nothing to do but enjoy a cup of tea with her father before retiring for a bath before dinner.
“Has my father had tea, Simon?” she asked.
“Mr. Woodhouse insisted on waiting for you and so would not allow me to prepare him a cup.”
The footman’s carefully blank expression made her sigh. “Is he upset about something?”
“I believe so, Mrs. Knightley.”
When she lifted her eyebrows in silent enquiry, he gave a slight grimace.
“Mr. Elton stopped by this afternoon,” he said. “To call on Mr. Woodhouse.”
Drat.
“I take it my father did not respond well.”
“Mr. Woodhouse instructed me to eject Mr. Elton from the premises,” he woodenly replied.
She gaped at him. “You mean literally eject him?”
“I believe the phrase employed wastoss the bounder out of my house.”
It took Emma a few moments to collect her wits. “I take it Miss Bates was visiting at the time.”
“Yes, madam.”
“I’m going to assume you didnotphysically eject Mr. Elton from the house.”
“No. I explained to Mr. Elton that Mr. Woodhouse was not receiving guests at present.”
She eyed him. “Is there something else, Simon?”
Again, he grimaced. “I’m afraid Mr. Elton might have heard the order for his removal. Mr. Woodhouse was quite, er, forceful.”
Double drat.
Apparently, itwasasking too much to have a quiet cup of tea and a bath.
“Is Miss Bates still here?”
“She left a short time ago.”
“In a fit of the vapors, no doubt.”
