Page 129 of Murder at Donwell Abbey

CHAPTER24

When Harriet entered Hartfield’s drawing room, Emma gratefully put aside her needlework and stood. “How are you, dear? I vow, it’s been an age since we spoke.”

Harriet gingerly returned Emma’s embrace around her expanding girth.

“I apologize, Mrs. Knightley. Robert hates for me to go out when there’s ice on the road. I keep telling him thereisno ice on the road, but he’s convinced I’ll take a tumble.”

“He’s just being protective. That’s his job.”

“The midwife says I have almost three months to go before my lying-in, and I swear Robert would lock me away for the whole time if I let him.”

Emma laughed. “How did you manage to escape today?”

“My mother-in-law gave Robert a scold. She said she worked right up to the day she gave birth to him, and that a little exercise and fresh air would be good for me.”

“She’s right about that, though I expect no one in the Martin household expectsyouto work right up to your lying-in.”

Harriet crinkled her nose. “They all spoil me terribly.”

Emma drew her to sit on the sofa. “No one deserves a little pampering more than you. Did you walk to Hartfield?”

“Yes, with my sisters-in-law. They had to do some shopping in Highbury. Robert asked, please, if one of your footmen could escort me home.” She huffed. “It’s so silly. I feel perfectly fine.”

“I’ll take you myself,” Emma said. “I’ve been cooped up all day and would be happy to walk off the fidgets.”

“Robert says Mr. Knightley has been away for a few days. When does he return home?”

“I hope to see him this afternoon. He and John are working on a defense for poor Larkins. They’re also looking into hiring a Bow Street Runner to investigate the smuggling. That’s doubly necessary now with Mr. Clarke out of commission.”

Harriet clucked her tongue in sympathy. “Poor Mr. Clarke. But I heard Constable Sharpe deemed it a robbery that had nothing to do with the smugglers?”

“You know what a dimwit he is. Why else would Mr. Clarke be in the churchyard after midnight? He was obviously onto something. He must have been set upon by the smugglers because he was getting too close.”

Harriet glanced over her shoulder before leaning in. “It’s actually about the smugglers that I wanted to speak with you.”

Emma smiled. “You needn’t whisper, dear. I promise there are no smugglers in our household.”

Harriet looked solemn. “You never know who could be listening.”

“That’s an alarming remark. Whatever can you mean?”

“It’s rather hard to explain, because I promised someone that I wouldn’t reveal their identity. Or what she … I mean, they, specifically told me about what was taking place … in the place where things were taking place.”

Emma frowned. “Harriet, you’re beginning to sound like Miss Bates.”

“I know. But it’s most important that I keep my promise, because my friend … this person is very frightened.”

Ah.That was interesting—and disturbing.

She took a guess. “I take it your friend—clearly a woman— has been threatened by smugglers?”

“Not specifically, but …” Harriet hesitated, clearly torn between her promise and the need to relay important information.

Emma laid a hand on her arm. “If you wish to withhold this person’s name, I completely understand. Still, the more information you can give me, the more we can do to stop these terrible men before they hurt anyone else.”

Harriet wavered a bit, then nodded. “Well, my friend came to visit me this morning. Her husband is a farmer in the parish next to Donwell. The smugglers have taken over the use of his barn to store contraband on its way to London. In the beginning he tried to say no, but they beat the poor man quite terribly. After that, he was too afraid to refuse their demands.”

Anger and frustration mingled in equal portions in Emma’s breast. How could these awful people keep getting away with their reign of terror?