Page 108 of Murder at Donwell Abbey

Naturally, their exit took several minutes since Miss Bates wished to make her goodbyes to half the room. Father finally took his betrothed by the elbow and marched her out.

“George, I am constantly amazed by the changes in my father since his romantic involvement with Miss Bates,” Emma commented. “He has certainly developed a more forceful personality.”

“I suspect it has more to do with his fear of contracting a contagion,” he dryly replied.

Mrs. Weston tapped George on the shoulder. “How long do you think it will take the jury to arrive at a verdict?”

George checked his pocket watch. “Not long, I would imagine. The physical evidence was compelling.”

“I have to echo Father’s complaint about Dr. Hughes’s concluding statement,” Emma said with disapproval. “There was an astounding degree of speculation.”

He grimaced. “I was also not well pleased. Remember, though, that the coroner’s inquest doesn’t determine guilt.”

The three of them then chatted in a desultory manner for ten minutes or so, waiting for the jury to return.

“Ah, here they are,” said George, glancing across the room.

Emma sighed. “I suppose it’s no wonder that they came to such a speedy conclusion.”

They resumed their seats as the men filed on.

“Gentlemen of the jury,” said Dr. Hughes once they were seated. “Have you reached a verdict?”

Mr. Weston stood. “Yes, Dr. Hughes. We have determined that murder has been committed.”

Excited murmurings rippled throughout the room, even though the verdict was no surprise.

“Order, please,” called Dr. Hughes. “This matter shall now be turned over to Constable Sharpe for investigation. Mr. Knightley as magistrate is to be kept informed of all developments, and I will expect to receive regular reports as well.”

Mr. Parr, red in the face, jumped to his feet and jabbed a finger at the constable. “AndIexpect to see justice done, with that bloody Irishman swinging from a gibbet.”

Emma heard George’s exasperated sigh as the room once more descended into a ruckus.

CHAPTER21

Emma picked up the teapot. “Miss Bates, would you care for another cup?”

Her future stepmother waved a fluttering hand. “I don’t think I could squeeze in another drop. Dinner was excellent, as it always is at Hartfield. Mother and I are forever talking about Serle and how well she does everything. We’re quite convinced she’s the best cook in Surrey. Of course, Mrs. Weston’s cook is also excellent, and the Coles certainly set a fine table. But no one can compare with Serle, of that I feel sure.”

Emma’s father, sitting next to his betrothed on the sofa, graced her with an approving smile. “It gives me a great deal of pleasure to know you think so highly of our good Serle. After all, once you move to Hartfield, you will be drawing up the daily menus and giving her direction.”

Miss Bates looked more than slightly alarmed at the notion, and Emma couldn’t blame her. Giving Serle direction on anything was always daunting. Aside from sketching out basics for the daily menus, Emma generally left all their meal planning up to their formidable cook, and that was exactly how Serle preferred it.

Fortunately, the pedestal clock chimed out the hour, sparing Miss Bates a reply.

“Goodness, I had no idea it was so late,” she said. “I must be getting home to Mother. She’ll want to hear everything about that dreadful inquest today.” She sighed. “Poor Mr. Larkins. I feel wretched thinking about him sitting in that dreadful prison.”

Emma’s father shuddered. “They are breeding grounds for every sort of nasty contagion. As much as we are all concerned for Larkins, George, you must promise me that you’ll not visit him. You might catch something and bring it home to Emma.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, I assure you,” George replied in a soothing tone.

Naturally, he failed to mention that he’d already made one visit to the gaol since Larkins’s arrest three days ago. The poor man was in very low spirits, protesting his innocence but convinced that no one would believe him.

“Miss Bates, will you allow me to escort you home?” George asked as he stood.

“Dear sir, I would never dream of taking you out of your way. It is only a short walk to the village. I will be perfectly fine.”

“It’s no trouble, ma’am. I’m returning to Donwell regardless, so I can easily escort you.”