Page 32 of Murder at Donwell Abbey

“And I take it you’re happy to stay at Hartfield for another week?”

The boy hesitated. “Actually, I was hoping I could stay at Donwell Abbey. It’s fun over there, and I like spending time with you and Uncle George.”

“But won’t you miss your mother?” Father asked. “And your brothers and sisters?”

The boy rolled his eyes. “I won’t miss baby Emma crying all the time, and Johnalwayswants me to play with him, even when I want to read.”

Emma stifled a smile. “I’ll have to ask your mother, but I for one would be happy for your company.”

Henry beamed at her. “I think I can help you, too. I know you have lots to do at Donwell, because you’re going to live there all the time once Grandfather and Miss Bates get married.”

That reminder gave Emma a little jolt. There was indeed a great deal of work to be accomplished at Donwell before they made their permanent move.

But even more pressing was getting to the bottom of last night’s tragic events. After sleeping on it—or tossing and turning on it—Emma was more convinced than ever that Donwell’s servants knew more about Prudence’s strange fall than they’d thus far revealed.

She glanced at the clock and rose to her feet, the vague outline of a plan forming in her mind. “Henry, you’d best run upstairs and have Nurse pack you some clothes. We leave for Donwell right after tea.”

CHAPTER7

When Emma entered the library, George put aside his book.

“I take it that Henry is settled for the night?” he asked.

She joined him on the sofa in front of the fireplace. A fire blazed merrily in the grate and the room had been returned to its habitual state of comfort, all traces of last night’s events removed. The thick velvet drapes had been drawn over all the windows, closing off any view of the terrace and its tragic reminders.

“Happily settled,” Emma replied. “I put him in the bedroom two doors down from us. It’s cozier than the other rooms on our floor. They’re much too grand, and I don’t think he’d feel very comfortable.”

When he put an arm around her, she nestled against him.

“I’m glad you didn’t put him on the nursery floor,” he replied.

“George, the nursery floor hasn’t been used in decades. Frankly, I’m amazed it’s not covered in cobwebsandhaunted.”

“You know I don’t approve of ghosts, my dear. They spend all their time frightening the servants and generally misbehaving. I refuse to allow them at Donwell.”

She poked him in the side. “Now you’re being silly.”

“Indeed. But I will also admit that a great deal of work needs to be done before we can make a permanent move. It will be a bother for you, I’m afraid.”

She wriggled out of his embrace and reached for the silver teapot on the low table in front of them.

“It will be an interesting challenge,” she said, pouring him a cup. “For now, though, it’s just us, and everything is perfectly comfortable.”

“As comfortable as it can be, under the circumstances,” he dryly replied.

She sighed. “I know. I can’t help wondering what would have happened to Prudence if we hadn’t held that dratted party. Would she have died anyway?”

These last twenty-four hours, guilt had weighed more heavily on her than she cared to admit.

“We can never know,” George replied. “Any such speculation in that regard could lead to nothing but pointless recriminations.”

“True. If this last year has taught me anything, it’s that we can never remake the past, no matter how hard we might try. Still, I can’t help but think there must have been something we could have done to help Prudence.”

“We can at least help her family.”

She shifted to face him. “I would very much like to do that. I cannot imagine how dreadful it must have been for them to receive such shocking news—how dreadful for you to be the bearer of that news. I’m sorry, dearest.”

“I don’t know when I’ve ever seen a family so grieved. Prudence’s mother died some years back. The poor girl was the only daughter, so her family was very protective of her. Her brothers opposed her taking the Donwell job in the first place, but her father agreed it was a good opportunity.” He shook his head. “You can imagine how the poor man feels now.”