Page 19 of Murder at Donwell Abbey

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose. It was bad luck that Constable Sharpe had appeared on the scene before the final guests had departed, but to announce the existence of a dead body in front of two of Highbury’s biggest gossips?

Fatal.

Arriving like a second harbinger of ill fortune, Dr. Hughes then walked in, looking most aggrieved.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Cole,” Sharpe frostily replied. “There is definitely a dead body at Donwell Abbey.”

“There’s no need to make a general announcement,” Dr. Hughes admonished. “You will distress the ladies.”

The constable harrumphed. “Dead bodies cannot be hidden or pretended away.” He then pointedly stared at Emma. “Although I imaginesomemight prefer it.”

“No one wishes to hide anything,Mr.Sharpe,” she frostily replied. “We were waiting for Dr. Hughes, so as to know exactly how to proceed.”

“Very proper,” the coroner said. “Mr. Knightley always knows exactly how things should be done.”

Emma mentally rolled her eyes. Dr. Hughes had a marked tendency to believe that a woman’s delicate emotions rendered them incapable of acting sensibly in a crisis.

The physician turned to the Gilberts and the Coles. “I apologize for any upset, ladies. There has been an incident at Donwell Abbey, but as yet nothing is clear. Therefore, I would ask that you disregard the constable’s comments and refrain from any discussion on the matter, for now.”

Mrs. Gilbert and Mrs. Cole exchanged a swift glance, agog with barely repressed excitement.

“Of course, sir,” Mrs. Cole replied. “We won’t say a word to anyone.”

They will absolutely say a word to everyone.

By dawn, every household in Highbury would know a dead body had been discovered at Donwell.

Mr. Weston, with a surprisingly firm manner, steered the Coles and the Gilberts outside. They were actually in the middle of saying their farewells when he slammed the wide oak doors in their faces.

“Oh dear,” said Mrs. Weston with a sigh.

Meanwhile, the coroner and the constable were standing in the middle of the hall, glaring at each other like bantam cocks about to employ their spurs.

The two officers of the law could not be more unlike. While Dr. Hughes was a large, portly man who moved and spoke with ponderous dignity, Constable Sharpe lived up to his name. He was all sharp angles and elbows, with a tendency to bark his way through every situation. He reminded Emma of a badly trained terrier, darting here and there, making a fuss.

To be fair, both men did take their jobs seriously and tried to execute their duties with diligence. Unfortunately, neither possessed a superior intellect, and both were prone to jumping to ridiculous conclusions. And while Dr. Hughes always exercised a degree of courtesy toward Emma because of her station, it was obvious that both men resented her.

She supposed she couldn’t blame them, since she’d been the one to solve Mrs. Elton’s murder, not they. Constable Sharpe had been particularly offended, while Dr. Hughes had been mostly shocked by what he saw as an unseemly involvement in matters violating female decorum.

Hoping to disrupt the glaring match, Emma cleared her throat. “Gentlemen, I’ll escort you to the library.”

“Is that the scene of the crime?” the constable barked.

Just like a terrier.

Mr. Weston tactfully intervened. “Emma, do you wish us to stay? We should be happy to lend any assistance.”

She flashed him a grateful smile. “No, you must get home to little Anna. George and I cannot thank you enough.”

Mrs. Weston enveloped her in a hug. For a moment, Emma clung to her, taking comfort in the familiar embrace.

After making her farewells, Emma led Dr. Hughes and the constable into the long gallery. As the little group turned into the east corridor, they encountered Isabella and Mrs. Bates under the solicitous escort of Mrs. Hodges.

“Oh, Emma,” Isabella woefully said. “Father is in a terrible fret. I wish John were here. He would know exactly what to do.”

Dr. Hughes gave Isabella and Mrs. Bates a courtly bow. “A distressing ending to the evening, to be sure.”

“Indeed,” Isabella replied. “I hope you won’t keep my father any longer than necessary, Dr. Hughes. This is very taxing to his health.”