Page 144 of Murder in Highbury
“Mrs. Knightley, what is happening?”
Emma gave her a little push. “I don’t know, but hurry! Mr. Knightley might be in danger.”
The woman picked up her skirts and ran. Emma did the same, plunging down the long corridor. After the startling report of the weapon, an ominous silence now filled the air, broken only by the soft slap of her footsteps.
That silence terrified Emma.
She skidded to a halt at the door of the study and grabbed the doorframe to steady herself. Relief flooded her body. George was standing behind his desk. While he was clutching one arm, he was alive and whole otherwise. But he might not be alive and whole for much longer. Standing several feet in front of the desk was Mr. Elton, holding two pistols.
As she watched, he dropped one to the floor—obviously the one he’d just fired—and transferred the other weapon to his right hand.
George grimaced as he let go of his arm and held up a hand. “Philip, you don’t want to do this.”
A patch of the green woolen fabric of George’s coat sleeve was dark, obviously with blood. Emma’s head swam, and black dots swarmed across her vision.
Don’t faint.
She forced herself to suck in a deep breath. Then anger rushed in and cleared her gaze.
“Not true, Mr. Knightley,” Mr. Elton replied, sounding almost gleeful, as he pointed the weapon at George. “I definitely do want to do this.”
Emma stepped through the doorway. “Mr. Elton, you will stop right now!”
He jerked and then spun to face her before pointing the weapon straight ather. Then he stumbled back a few steps.
“Mrs. Knightley!” he exclaimed in a horrified tone. “What are you doing here?”
George sucked in a startled breath. “Emma, my God!”
When her husband started for her, Mr. Elton snarled at him. “Not another step, Knightley, or Iwillshoot you.”
“You will do no such thing,” Emma snapped as she stalked over to her husband. “Mrs. Hodges has already now run to fetch help, so you’d best put that pistol down while you can.”
Mr. Elton looked momentarily disconcerted before lifting a defiant chin. “I very much doubt that, Mrs. Knightley. When I approached the house, I checked to make sure that none of the servants were in the vicinity of the study.”
She ignored that bit of nonsense as she gingerly touched George’s injured arm.
“He only winged me,” he said in a low, urgent voice. “You must leave right now, my Emma.”
When he tried to push her toward the door, she resisted. “I’m not going anywhere, and certainly not while Mr. Elton is pointing a gun at you.”
“You’d best do as he says, Mrs. Knightley,” Elton replied. Clearly, he’d recovered from the shock of her surprise entrance. “My business is with your husband.”
She rounded on him, fixing him with a ferocious glare. “Your only business here should be to surrender to him. I know that you killed your wife and tried to cover it up by blaming others. Well, you will not get away with it. If you have a shred of integrity left in your character, you will put down that gun and submit yourself to justice.”
Far from being intimidated, he gazed at her with rapt attention and a feverish intensity, which raised the hairs on the back of her neck. It occurred to her that his senses had indeed become utterly disordered.
“Dear, dear Mrs. Knightley,” he said in a disconcertingly fond tone. “You should do as your husband advises and leave immediately. I should hate for you to see anything that would cause you distress.”
She stared at him. “Mr. Elton, have you gone entirely mad?”
“Not helpful, Emma,” George said through gritted teeth.
The vicar heaved a sigh. “Certainly not. That is most unkind, Mrs. Knightley. I expected better of you.”
“Good God! You murdered your wife and seek to murder my husband, and yet you expected better fromme?” Then her mind suddenly switched tack. “Wait, why do you want to murder George?”
When he cast her an indulgent smile, Emma began to wonder if she was the one losing her mind.
