“And Miss Bates accompanied you?”
“Yes.”
“Good Lord,” he muttered.
“Miss Bates was oddly helpful,” she replied, feeling slightly defensive of her future stepmother. “And I was surprised by her determination. She simply wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“It would seem your habits are starting to rub off on her. I wonder how your father will react to this change in his betrothed’s temperament?”
“He’ll be thrilled, because she’ll be more like me. Now, be serious, George. Thisisserious.”
“Very well. What was the upshot of your joint interrogation of poor Mr. Barlowe?”
When she stuck her tongue out at him, he chuckled.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll be serious. Did you learn anything of interest?”
“Apparently, William has fallen in with a rough crowd.” She gave him a significant look. “And he met these people in Leatherhead.”
He blinked. “Leatherhead.”
“A strange coincidence, don’t you think?”
“Did Mrs. Cox indicate any other … concerns about William’s behavior?”
She guessed what he was really asking. “You mean with young women? She raised no concerns in that regard. But I don’t think that’s definitive. William may very well have met Prudence in Leatherhead before she came to work at Donwell.”
George thought for a few moments. “I presume William has been ostensibly meeting with these new friends in taverns or pubs?”
“I would assume so.”
“I’ll admit it’s an interesting coincidence. Still, I think it unlikely that William and Prudence met in Leatherhead. For one thing, she would not be frequenting taverns or pubs.”
Emma raised her eyebrows. “Even Harriet occasionally has a meal with Robert at the Crown Inn, on market day.”
“There’s quite a difference between a respectable coaching inn and a tavern frequented by rough men. Prudence’s father would never allow her to step foot in such places.”
“Then she might have met William somewhere else. Perhaps his horse lost a shoe, and he came to her father’s shop to get a new one.”
George shifted to face her. “My darling, why are you determined to make William Cox the villain in this? I grant you that his behavior was disgraceful, but there’s no evidence that he had anything to do with Prudence’s death.”
Emma blew out a frustrated sigh. “Because what we know doesn’t seem to fit what happened. Prudence disliked spirits, yet there was a decanter of sherry in her room. She falls out a window that was not particularly easy to fall out of. And weknowshe was upset about something—or someone. That someone might very well be William Cox.”
He studied her for a few moments. “Emma, do you truly believe William killed Prudence?”
At this point, she was reluctant to make so bold a claim. George was right about the lack of evidence. “It could have been an accident, at least in the sense that he didn’t mean to kill her. Perhaps the window wasn’t latched correctly and she fell against it in their struggle. Or it was already open. At the very least, you must admit the possibility.”
“I probably would, if we hadn’t secured the room so quickly after her fall. As we discussed before, there were no signs of a struggle. If your theory was correct, there most certainly would have been some such signs.”
That, of course, was the immensely frustrating rub. “I know.”
He took her hand. “Emma, please know that I’m not trying to dismiss you or your concerns out of hand. Was William’s behavior toward Prudence highly inappropriate? Yes, and be sure that I will deal with that. But we cannot accuse him of murder when there’s no evidence to back up such a bold claim.”
“I do realize that, which is why I brought the matter to you,” she replied, trying not to soundtoogrumpy.
His momentary smile was wry. “Thank you. And as I said, I’ll address your concerns about William, certainly regarding his conduct at our party. I’ll also try to find out more about those dodgy characters from Leatherhead—for his parents’ sake, if nothing else.”
She squeezed his hand. “Thank you, George. And thank you for listening. It’s been a dreadful day for you, and this is a dreadful topic to be forced to think about.”