Page 147 of Murder in Highbury

Elton smiled approvingly, obviously taking her comment to be one of understanding. “Indeed. We had a tremendous row about it. Since I did not wish the servants to overhear us—at least more than they already had—I insisted we go to the church for privacy’s sake.”

Another piece of the puzzle slid into place for Emma. “And Mrs. Wright overheard you.”

He scoffed. “Some of it, yes. Fortunately, Augusta reassured that interfering old biddy that it was nothing. My dear wife didn’t wish to be embarrassed in front of the servants, you see,” he said in a sarcastic tone.

“Mrs. Wright was obviously very loyal to your wife,” George commented.

“She should have been loyal tome,” the vicar snapped. “Instead, she caused a great deal of trouble, filling Augusta’s head with her nonsense.”

Emma tapped the top of the desk, a bit closer to the inkwell. “Did Mrs. Wright suspect that you had, er, feelings for me?”

That would certainly explain the woman’s ill will.

“Probably. Toward the end, Augusta accused me of caring more for your good opinion than hers, which she likely heard from Mrs. Wright.” He preened a bit. “Of course, that was true.”

It took a moment for Emma to wrestle her rising temper under control. “So you went to the church for privacy. But, again, I must ask why Mrs. Elton was wearing her pearls.”

“Ah, yes,” he replied with a genial nod. “Thank you for reminding me, dear madam.”

Mad as Mrs. Radcliffe’s monk.

“I insisted that Augusta hand over her jewels, as I would need to sell them,” he explained. “She must have feared I’d make such a demand at some point, because she’d taken to always wearing her best pieces or carrying them about in her reticule. But I had no intention of letting her escape with any of her jewels. They were all we had of any value besides her gowns and our silver service and china.”

Emma frowned. “Escape? What do you mean by that?”

“She threatened to retire to Maple Grove to live with her sister. Astonishing, really, that she would live with the man who’d ruined us all. You may be sure I forbade her to do so. I also informed her that I would do my best to ruin Horace and her blasted sister, just as they had ruined us.”

“I imagine she didn’t like that,” George quietly noted.

Elton’s gaze once more grew flat and hard. “She did not.”

“How did she respond?”

“She cursed at me and then slapped me.” He shook his head. “She was always a vulgar woman, but even I was surprised by such behavior. Apparently, my influence was not enough to temper the flaws in her character.”

Unbelievable.

Emma had to steel herself to ask the next question. “And how didyourespond?”

He frowned, as if the question made no sense. “How do you think? I struck her back.”

“Good God,” George muttered, his voice heavy with disgust.

Just then, Emma caught a slight movement out on the terrace. Through the open terrace doors, she saw a shadow cast onto the stones just beyond the doorframe.

William Larkins.

Some relief flowed through her, making her painfully aware of how tightly she’d been holding her body. Finally, help was nearby.

A gentle squeeze at her waist communicated that George had also noted the movement. Larkins, an intelligent and sensible man, was no doubt waiting for the opportune time to strike. Now they had to continue to keep the vicar distracted.

“I assume that was when Mrs. Elton fell and bumped her head?” Emma asked.

“No, that happened when I took the necklace. We had a bit of a struggle, and I was forced to be quite rough. She fell, but it was really her fault. She should have done as I asked. After all, it’s a wife’s duty to obey her husband.” He again flashed her that bone-chilling smile. “It’s in one’s wedding vows, as you know.”

The deranged reply unleashed emotions Emma could no longer contain.

“But why?” she exclaimed. “Why not just let her go? Instead, youmurderedher. And please don’t say that you did it for love of me, because I willnotbelieve you.”