Page 114 of Murder at Donwell Abbey

Mrs. Ford’s smile changed to a grimace. “I don’t like to tattle, Mrs. Knightley.”

“Again, I assure you of our discretion.”

“Indeed,” said an earnest Miss Bates. “I won’t say a word to anyone.”

Mrs. Ford finally gave a reluctant nod. “You might try Mr. Cox, ma’am. He might be able to tell you a thing or two about smuggled goods in Highbury.”

Emma frowned. Mr. Cox was Highbury’s solicitor. It was difficult to imagine that he was involved with smugglers.

“Do you mean Mr. Cox?” she cautiously asked. “Or William Cox?”

Miss Bates let out a little squeak, obviously realizing the import of her question.

“I don’t really know,” replied Mrs. Ford. “But there’s been a bit of gossip about the Coxes and their fine living these past several months—living beyond their means. Mr. Cox is very proud of his snuff, at least according to Mrs. Cox. She was boasting about the quality of his Martinique just the other day. And then there’s the French brandy. I heard William Cox waxing on about it when he came to pick up gloves a month or so ago. He bragged to his sister that not even Mr. Knightley or Mr. Weston could drink anything finer.”

Well, well, well.

It would seem William Cox was back in the picture, after all.

“Thank you, Mrs. Ford,” said Emma. “You’ve been very helpful, indeed.”

“More tea, Mrs. Knightley?”

Emma heard the perplexed tone in Mrs. Cox’s question. The poor woman had no idea why she and Miss Bates had dropped in unannounced, especially since Emma had never once visited them, nor had the Coxes to Hartfield.

It was also much too early in the day to make social calls. The Cox girls had apparently not even finished dressing. Still, Mrs. Cox had sent the housemaid up to fetch Anne and Susan, who had just appeared. Emma found that most unfortunate, since the less time spent with those two, the better.

The object of her prey, William Cox, had stepped out on an errand but was expected back shortly. Miss Bates had easily solicited that information. Since the spinster actuallywasa friend of the Coxes, her polite question hadn’t seemed out of place.

Emma smiled at their hostess, who clutched a large floral teapot to her chest like a shield against unwanted intruders.

“Thank you, Mrs. Cox,” she replied. “It’s delicious tea. Souchong, I believe?”

The woman tentatively smiled. “Yes, that’s right.”

“I don’t know when I’ve had a finer cup of tea,” enthused Miss Bates. “One could imagine this tea served in the best households in England, including Hartfield, of course. The tea at Hartfield is always superior.”

Anne tossed a ringlet over her shoulder. “I’m sureourtea is as good as anything served at Hartfield. William gets it for us, whenever he goes on one of his little jaunts to London with his friends. He always brings back the nicest things.”

Mrs. Cox frowned. “Mind your manners, Anne. There’s no need to make comparisons.”

“It wasn’t me making comparisons,” the girl protested. “It was Miss Bates.”

That naturally led to an extended and garbled apology from Miss Bates. Normally, Emma would have intervened, but she was too caught by the information the girl had inadvertently revealed. While the family certainly lived in decent style thanks to Mr. Cox’s profession, they weren’t wealthy. Nor had William yet taken up his father’s profession. So how could a young man with limited resources find the means to buy such highquality goods?

Emma had a growing conviction that William’s new friends had something to do with it.

Once Miss Bates finished her garbled apology, an awkward silence fell over the room.

It wasn’t the first, Emma was sorry to note.

After leaving the milliner’s shop, she and Miss Bates had determined to immediately follow up on the promising lead provided by Mrs. Ford. Although the decision might have seemed a bit hasty, Emma knew there was no time to waste. There was simply too much at stake, for one thing. For another, once George found out she was making inquiries, he would be none too pleased. Better to proceed with useful information in hand rather than seek approval first.

And, yes, he would be annoyed with her, but hewouldlisten. While George might not approve of her methods, he always listened to her. It was a splendid quality in a husband.

Anne finally broke the silence. “Mrs. Knightley, I found that Mr. Clarke ever so interesting. You know, at the inquest yesterday. I was wondering what you know about him.”

Mrs. Cox winced with embarrassment. “Anne, that is hardly an appropriate question.”