Page 108 of Murder in Highbury

“We went to see Farmer Mitchell,” Frank replied.

She mentally sighed, since she’d already told her father they were simply attending to errands in the village.

Father reacted with perturbation. “Emma, farms are very dirty. Why in Heaven’s name would you go to a farm?”

“Mr. Mitchell’s farm is very clean, dearest. And Serle always says they have the best cheese in the entire district.”

“Not to worry, Mr. Woodhouse,” Frank reassured him. “We stood in the drive while we talked, and stayed only a few minutes. It was perfectly safe.”

“But why go in the first place?”

Resigned, Emma decided to tell him the truth. “Mr. Mitchell was able to vouch for Dick Curtis. Dick was working at the farm during the time that Mrs. Elton was murdered.”

Her father went very still. She held her breath, waiting for him to arrive at the unwelcome conclusion.

“Emma, you should not have done such a thing,” he finally exclaimed. “Now Constable Sharpe will try to arrest poor Miss Bates again.”

She sat on the ottoman by his chair and took his hand. “George will not allow that to happen. Besides, you said yourself that Dick was innocent. We cannot wish to see him charged for a crime he didn’t commit.”

His thin face wrinkled with concern. “But Miss Bates is innocent, too.”

“And everyone knows that.”

“Constable Sharpe certainly does not.” He flapped his other hand in the air. “This is all Mr. Elton’s fault, Emma.Heis responsible for this terrible predicament.”

When Simon entered the room with the tea service, Emma welcomed the distraction. “I promise you that George will take care of everything. Now, shall we—”

“We must certainly hope for that,” Frank interrupted. “But I think we can also agree that Elton’s actions have caused a great deal of trouble. How can Aunt Hetty—or any of us—ever be comfortable with him again?”

Emma regarded him with exasperation. “The man’s wife was murdered, Frank. You cannot blame him for wanting to see justice done.”

“I can when he points the finger at innocent people.”

She sighed.

Simon gently cleared his throat. “Mrs. Knightley, would you like me to prepare the tea?”

Dredging up a smile, she shook her head. “I’ll do it. You may go, Simon.”

“Very good, madam.”

He’d barely exited the room before George walked in.

“I see we have a visitor for tea,” he said in a tone as dry as chalk.

Drat, drat, drat.

She jumped to her feet. “George, I didn’t expect you so early.”

“Mr. Knightley, just the man I wish to see,” Frank said.

George’s eyebrows went up with polite incredulity. “And why is that?”

“Dearest, let me prepare you a cup of tea,” Emma said, all but shoving him onto the settee. “You must be parched from your long ride.”

“It wasn’t so long, my dear. And my errand was over rather quickly.”

“That’s exactly what I wished to speak with you about,” Frank said. “Emma—that is, Mrs. Knightley—and I discovered evidence that vindicates Dick Curtis.”