Page 72 of Murder at Donwell Abbey

“He fell asleep on one of the sofas,” Anne replied. “We had a terrible time waking him up to take him home. Father had to practically carry him. It wasdreadfullyembarrassing.”

“And someone was with your brother that entire time in the drawing room?”

“Yes, Mrs. Knightley,” Susan earnestly said. “I stayed with him the whole time. Papa was very angry and wanted William to apologize right away, but Mama said there was no point, since he could hardly even talk.”

And that was the final blow to Emma’s theory about William Cox. Had he pestered Prudence earlier in the evening, upsetting the poor girl? Yes. But unless the entire Cox family was in league with him, which was a ridiculous notion, the foolish man was not guilty of anything but being a cad.

George had been right all along. Whatever the young man’s faults, he wasn’t a murderer.

“William trulyisvery sorry, Mrs. Knightley,” said Susan.

“I believe you,” Emma replied with a sigh. “But I would still like him to call on Mr. Knightley and offer a formal apology. I promise Mr. Knightley will not give him a thundering scold, but it would be appropriate for your brother to acknowledge his shortcomings.”

Anne scowled. “I don’t see why—”

Her sister elbowed her into silence. “I’m sure William will be happy to do that. And he’s ever so much better now. He’s quite smitten with Miss Nash, and Mama thinks she will be a good influence on him.”

Poor Miss Nash.

“One can only hope so,” Emma replied.

Anne grabbed her sister’s arm. “Mr. Knightley is finished talking to Guy Plumtree. And all the other girls are in the parlor, so now’s our chance to get him all to ourselves.”

Susan glanced at Emma with pleading eyes. “Do you mind, Mrs. Knightley?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Susan gave her a grateful smile before Anne hurried her across the room.

Emma stood quietly for a few moments, gathering her thoughts. Although it seemed she must absolve William of culpability in Prudence’s death, there were still too many questions. For one thing, both Mrs. Hodges and Harry had been adamant that the young man had been the cause of the girl’s extreme emotional distress. But if William wasn’t, who was?

The situation defied rational explanation. Emma simply couldn’t convince herself that Prudence had accidentally fallen out a narrow window, even if shehadbeen inebriated—which, according to those who knew her best, was most unlikely.

George, conversing with Father and Isabella by the fire, sent her an inquiring look. Emma went to join her family.

“You were having quite an extended conversation with the Cox girls,” he said.

“Yes, and I’m already doing my best to forget it.”

When George raised his eyebrows, Emma smiled. “I’ll explain later. You were conversing at length with young Mr. Plumtree, I noticed.”

“He was asking me about Donwell Abbey.”

“That’s rather odd, isn’t it?”

“His father encouraged him to do it. Guy strikes me as a bright young man, if a bit aimless.”

“But he wants nothing to do with estate management. He was emphatic about that,” Emma replied.

George shrugged. “Perhaps he was simply trying to please his father by quizzing me. Squire Plumtree apparently thinks I’m a good role model.”

“He’s correct, but I hope the squire doesn’t expectyouto tutor his son on estate management. You’re terribly busy at it is.”

“That’s why I suggested he speak with Larkins. I’m hoping he will relieve me of the burden of mentoring Guy Plumtree.”

Emma tried to repress a laugh. “Dearest, that is really quite dreadful of you. Poor Larkins.”

“Your father apparently shares your opinion,” George dryly replied.