Page 136 of Murder at Donwell Abbey

“But we know it’s not, George,” she argued.

“I understand, my dear, butwewill not be sitting on the jury at the murder trial.”

She couldn’t help muttering a mildly naughty oath under her breath.

George put down his plate and came to sit next to her. “It’s early days. We have hired the best defense, and now Mr. Phelps is on the case. We’re doing everything we can to run the smugglers to ground.”

“There have actually been developments in that regard, although I don’t even know where to begin. It’s been rather a fright since you’ve been gone.”

“My dear, you fill me with trepidation.” George narrowed his gaze. “You’ve not been interfering in the investigation, have you?”

She rounded her eyes. “Why would you make that inference?”

“Because I’ve known you my entire life?”

“Yes, but someone needs to investigate things around here, especially since poor Mr. Clarke was attacked in the churchyard—presumably while looking for smugglers.”

George looked stunned. “Was he badly injured?”

“He’s recovering, although it was a near thing. If Mr. Barlowe hadn’t found him early the next morning, the poor man probably would have frozen to death. He’s at the Crown, and Mrs. Stokes has been taking care of him. But I’m sure Mr. Clarke will wish to speak to you himself.”

George shook his head. “I can hardly believe it. This is much too close to home, Emma.”

“Wait until you hear the next piece of the puzzle.”

She then proceeded to tell him about the strange lights in the bell tower, and what she and Miss Bates had discovered.

“You went up into the tower with Miss Bates?” he asked in apparent disbelief.

“I didn’t wish to bring her along, but she insisted. In all fairness, she’s been surprisingly helpful.”

George muttered something under his breath aboutangels fearing to tread.

Emma patted his knee. “There was nothing dangerous about it, unless one counts a ridiculous discussion with Mr. Barlowe as dangerous.”

He sighed. “So he caught you snooping.”

“Not snooping. Investigating.”

“Emma, you know the constable investigates these matters.”

“Unfortunately, however, he keeps arriving at the wrong conclusion.”

“Emma—”

“George, you must trust me on this. Constable Sharpe is convinced it was a simple robbery, but that’s a ridiculous conclusion. And Miss Bates and I agree that Mr. Barlowe is acting very suspiciously, and he’s also in possession of what are likely contraband goods. How else could you explain that he has the best French brandy in the village?”

“I cannot,” he reluctantly replied.

“And then there were the lights in the bell tower. Perry saw them, andheis certainly a reliable witness. Even you must agree with that.”

She obviously must have sounded a bit put out because he flashed her a rueful smile as he took her hand.

“Of course you’re a reliable witness, and obviously you’re a great deal more perceptive and intelligent than Constable Sharpe. But that’s not the point.”

“You’re afraid I’ll run myself into trouble. I understand, George, but I’ve been very careful.”

He pressed a quick kiss to her mouth. “All right, I believe you. And I share your concern. I also see a discussion with both Mr. Clarke and Mr. Barlowe in my immediate future.”