Page 59 of Murder at Donwell Abbey

Emma smiled at his earnest expression. The boy read well in advance of his years, and he’d been ecstatic to be let loose in Donwell’s library.

“Of course. You’ve been very kind to sit with us when I’m sure we’ve been terribly boring.”

“I like listening to you and Mrs. Martin,” Henry replied. “You make me laugh, Auntie Emma, especially when you poke fun at people you don’t like.”

Oh dear.

“I would advise you not follow my example in that regard, Henry. I don’t think your mother would be terribly pleased.”

“You’re not nearly as bad as my father. He makes fun of everyone.”

With that trenchant and too-accurate assessment, he departed for the other side of the drawing room, where he settled into an oversized armchair to read.

Emma made a comical face at Harriet. “I’m clearly a dreadful influence on my nephew.”

“Henry is a dear child but seems quite solemn to me. It’s wonderful that you make him laugh, because there’s nothing better than a child’s laughter. It’s the happiest sound in the world.”

Emma replenished her friend’s teacup. “Soon you’ll have your own child, who will no doubt give you a great deal of laughter and joy.”

Harriet’s hand flitted down to her burgeoning stomach. “It’s hard not to worry, though. It’s terribly exciting to think about having a baby, but first I have to go through … well, what if something were to go wrong?”

Emma took her hand. “You’re a very healthy person, dear, and your pregnancy has gone exceedingly well. You have a very capable midwife and an excellent mother-in-law. Mrs. Martin will take care of you, never fear.”

Harriet flashed her a grateful smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Knightley. You always know just the right thing to say.”

“Of course I do. Now, I feel like I haven’t seen you in an age. Not since before that dreadful party. I hope all is well at Abbey Mill Farm.”

“Yes, thank you. We’ve been ever so worried about you and Mr. Knightley, though, and about everyone here at Donwell.” Harriet grimaced. “It still feels impossible to believe. To fall out a window … it all seems so strange.”

This was the opening Emma had been looking for. Like Miss Bates, Harriet often found herself in possession of all sorts of interesting information. Her kind and cheerful nature was just the sort that encouraged others to confide in her.

“Speaking of that horrible party,” Emma said, “I was wondering if you’d heard anything about William Cox of late. He made a spectacle of himself, and I understand his mother is quite worried about him.”

Harriet quickly glanced at Henry, then cast Emma a furtive look.

“As a matter of fact, I have,” she whispered. “William has been behaving inquitea naughty fashion.”

“Don’t worry. Henry is completely ignoring us. Now, what do you mean bynaughty?”

“Mrs. Cox told Mrs. Gilbert that she was worried about William, then Mrs. Gilbert told me when I was at Mrs. Ford’s picking up a piece of flannel to make a waistcoat for Robert.” She twirled a hand. “Not that Robert actually wants me to make him a flannel waistcoat. He says it makes him sound like an old man with rheumatics, but I insisted on it. He’s outside all day in the cold and damp, you know.”

Emma dearly loved her friend, but she had a tendency to get distracted by the mundane. “Very sensible of you. What, exactly, did Mrs. Gilbert tell you about William?”

“She said William had fallen in with some very low people. Not that Mrs. Cox has met any of William’s new friends …” She frowned. “At least I suppose that’s what you would call them. Anyway, she’s not met any of them, because none live in Highbury.”

“Did she mention where he met them? Perhaps in Leatherhead? It’s just the sort of place one might meet low companions.”

“I don’t recall her mentioning Leatherhead,” Harriet replied. “Apparently, though, there are nights when William doesn’t return home at all. Mrs. Gilbert said that when Mr. Cox demanded that William account for his whereabouts, William grew angry and stormed out of the house. I found that very odd. William always had such a good relationship with his father.”

“Did she say how long this odd behavior has been occurring?”

“For a few months, perhaps.” Harriet shrugged. “She wasn’t really sure.”

Prudence had moved to Donwell three months ago. William’s odd disappearances and behavior would have to have predated Prudence’s arrival in Highbury for there to be any credence to the notion that he met her in Leatherhead.

“William’s sisters are also quite worried and vexed,” added Harriet. “They think his bad behavior might damage their reputations.”

Emma scoffed. “That horse has already bolted the barn.”