Page 93 of Murder at Donwell Abbey
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Master Henry,” he replied. “I hope you’ve been enjoying your stay in Highbury.”
Then he winced, as if realizing how silly that might sound. Henry, however, responded with remarkable aplomb.
“Thank you, sir. I have. We had a splendid skating party on the pond yesterday. I very much enjoyed it.”
Oh dear.
Mr. Gilbert leapt into that unfortunate breach. “Speaking of yesterday, Mrs. Knightley, I understand that you discovered smuggled goods on Donwell’s grounds. Most shocking, I must say!”
Emma gave him a regretful smile. “I’m afraid that report isquiteexaggerated, sir. Nothing was actually found at Donwell, although a packet of tobacco was dropped near the Langham Path. There’s no telling who mislaid it.”
Mr. Otway frowned. “That’s not what Mr. Weston told Mr. Cole. He said it was clear it was smuggled goods.”
It was time for Emma to have a little chat with Mr. Weston about his fatal inability to keep his counsel.
“There’s no certainty about anything,” she calmly replied. “But rest assured that Mr. Knightley is taking all proper steps.”
Unfortunately, said Mr. Knightley was currently raising his voice to unaccustomed levels.
“I hate to contradict a lady,” Mr. Gilbert said, “but Mr. Larkins and Constable Sharpe had been a hair’s breadth from a walloping bout before you and Mr. Knightley arrived on the scene. Constable Sharpe was yelling about smuggling and demanding to search Mr. Larkins’s cottage.”
Drat, drat, drat.
Henry adopted an expression of angelic innocence. “What’s a walloping bout, Auntie Emma?”
“It’s best not discussed in polite company, dear,” she replied, directing a severe gaze at Mr. Gilbert.
He had the grace to blush.
“Now,” she added, “I know this situation seems most interesting, but I assure you it’s a private matter between Mr. Knightley and Mr. Larkins.”
Mr. Otway frowned. “Then what’s Constable Sharpe doing here?”
Emma adopted her bestlady of the manorstance.
“Since I’m not privy to the workings of Constable Sharpe’s mind, I have no idea,” she frostily replied. “But as magistrate, Mr. Knightley will be responding to any concerns Mr. Sharpe may have.Andas magistrate,he’s directed me to ask you to proceed about your daily business.Engaging in idle speculation and gossip will only lead to confusion and misunderstandings. I think we can all agree that would bemostunfortunate.” She gave them a curt nod. “Good day, gentlemen.”
Under such direct fire, the two men had no choice but to tip their hats and reluctantly continue on their way to Highbury.
Henry cast her an admiring glance. “Thunderbolts, Auntie Emma! I wish I could do that to people.”
“I’m sure you will one day. Unfortunately, this time I suspect it was too little, too late.”
By now, the argument seemed to have subsided to a dull roar. Emma and Henry hurried over to the cottage.
Mr. Larkins grimaced with embarrassment. “I’m sorry you had to be exposed to this, ma’am. My apologies.”
“There’s no need to apologize, dear sir.” She glanced at Constable Sharpe and sniffed. “I’mquitesure someone else was responsible for this unfortunate scene.”
George let out a quiet sigh. Constable Sharpe just glared at her.
“If some people would stop obstructing justice,” Sharpe finally snapped, “there wouldn’t be no need for a scene.”
“I find there is never a need for a scene, Constable,” she loftily replied. “And I hope the problem will be sorted before any more locals wander by to witness so unfortunate a performance.”
He pointed at Larkins. “That’s up to him.”
“Constable Sharpe has apparently received information that Larkins is in receipt of smuggled goods,” George explained. “He’s insisting on searching the cottage.”
