Page 79 of Murder at Donwell Abbey

She thought about that. “Actually, I shouldn’t be surprised if Harry raids the larder on a regular basis. I can’t think Mrs. Hodges would approve of such behavior.”

“Emma—”

“I take your point, dearest. Next time we see lights in the middle of the night, I will fetch you immediately.”

“That would be wise,” he said in a surprisingly serious tone.

She frowned. “George, why so—”

As the door opened and Harry entered with the tea service, Emma breathed a grateful sigh. She was never at her best when on the receiving end of one of George’s scolds,although they were thankfully rare since their marriage. But an early morning scold with only a sip of coffee was quite intolerable.

“Thank you, Harry,” she said. “Have you had a chance to look about the garden, yet?”

He set the tea tray in front of her. “Yes, ma’am. Nothing out of the ordinary, as far as I could tell.”

“No unusual sets of tracks?” George asked.

“Not sure what you mean by unusual tracks, sir,” he replied. “Everything seemed normal to me. And nothing around the chicken coops except the regular comings and goings from the kitchen staff.”

“Nothinginthe garden?” Emma asked, just to be sure.

Harry paused to think. “I did see deer tracks up by the shrubbery. I expect Mr. Larkins won’t be happy, since they trampled some of the low shrubs and made a mess of things.”

Emma smiled. “It certainly wasn’t deer carrying those lanterns.”

“No, ma’am,” he replied, completely serious.

George cleared his throat. “Thank you, Harry.”

The footman was barely out the door before Henry turned an earnest gaze on his uncle. “But IknowI saw lights in the garden, Uncle George. Auntie Emma saw them, too.”

“To be fair, I only saw the lights out by the path,” Emma apologetically said. “And there are apparently no suspicious tracks in the garden.”

The little boy crossed his arms and lifted his chin in a stubborn tilt. In that moment, he looked remarkably like his father. “I know what I saw.”

“We’re not doubting you,” George replied in a kind voice. “But at night, distances can be deceiving. Lights can actually be farther away than they appear. But there’s no doubt you and your aunt saw something—or someone—on Donwell lands, and that concerns me.”

Emma sighed. “Please don’t tell me it’s the poultry thief. Father will be so upset.”

“I doubt it’s the poultry thief, either,” he rather grimly replied.

Oh dear.

“That sounds ominous, dearest.”

Her husband glanced at Henry, as if suddenly realizing that perhaps what they were about to discuss wasn’t fit for younger ears.

Their nephew, however, gazed calmly back at his uncle. “You needn’t worry about me, Uncle George. Papa is a barrister. He hears all sorts of horrid things.”

Emma raised her eyebrows. “And how do you know about these horrid things?”

“Well … I suppose I overhear Papa sometimes when he talks to Mama about them.”

“Apparently you take after your aunt in that regard,” George sardonically commented.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Emma replied in a lofty tone. “And now that it’s clear Henry willnotbe shocked, perhaps you can tell us what we saw last night.”

“I suspect that what you saw could have been smugglers using the old Langham path on their way to Kingston or Richmond.”