Page 35 of Murder in Highbury

If Mrs. Elton were able to plan her own funeral, Emma was certain it would include an elaborate cortège, a lengthy service, and as many mourners as possible.

George nodded. “It did. Considering that the poor woman is the vicar’s wife, one would think Mr. Elton would display a nicer attention to detail. But I suppose there is bound to be some natural discomfort. Death at such a young age would be distressing under any circumstance—and doubly so in this case.”

“All the more reason to honor her passing. Mr. Elton did seem genuinely grateful, though, that we offered to hold the reception at Donwell.”

“Thus saving him a significant cost, something which should win the approval of Mr. Suckling. We must also ensure that the reception is as plain as possible, although naturally in the best of taste.”

When Emma couldn’t hold back a laugh, it shocked Farmer Mitchell, who happened to be passing by. He cast her a startled glance before politely tipping his hat.

“That was positively wicked of you, George,” she said after they’d acknowledged the farmer’s greeting. “To make me laugh in the middle of the street when everyone is so upset about Mrs. Elton’s dreadful demise.”

“I’m sure Highbury will return to normal once the inquest and funeral are over. What does not directly affect us fades quickly from our minds.”

She looked askance at him. “That’s a rather cynical view of things, George.”

“But true, nonetheless. Now, I must be away to meet with Dr. Hughes. We need to go over the jury lists for the inquest. Are you returning to Hartfield?”

“I must stop at Ford’s. Father is in dire need of gloves, so I thought to pick them up and then return home in time for tea with the Westons.”

“Then allow me the pleasure of serving as your escort.”

He ushered her along the street, exchanging pleasantries with various locals. Emma was pleased to note the respect accorded to her husband. It was based, she knew, not onwhathe was, but onwhohe was. Once again, she congratulated herself for having the good sense to fall in love with so kind and generous a man.

They had just passed the Crown Inn when Harriet came rushing toward them, her bonnet ribbons flapping behind her.

“Mrs. Knightley,” she puffed. “I was just coming to find you.”

“Goodness, Harriet, whatever can be the matter?”

Her friend bobbed George a little curtsy. “Forgive me, Mr. Knightley. But I need to speak with Mrs. Knightleyquiteurgently.”

Emma stifled a sigh.What now?

“Then I’ll be on my way,” George said. “That is, unless you think you need me, Emma.”

“Thank you, but I will manage.”

“I’ll see you back at Hartfield, then, but not before dinner. Dr. Hughes might wish to address the issue you and I talked about as soon as possible, and that might take some time.”

Interrogating Miss Bates, in other words.

After tipping his hat to Harriet, he set off at a brisk pace.

“Harriet, what has put you all in a fever?” Emma asked. “Is everyone well at Abbey Mill Farm?”

“Yes, Mrs. Knightley. I didn’t mean to alarm you.” She flashed a happy smile. “In fact, one of Robert’s heifers calved this morning. He bought the cow on Mr. Knightley’s recommendation, so as you can imagine, the calf is splendid. And it’s ever so much nicer to think about that sweet calf than poor Mrs. Elton lying dead in the church.”

Emma blinked at Harriet’s artless reply. “Er, that’s very nice, dear. But why are you in such a bother?”

“I was going to Ford’s to pick up some cambric when I ran into Miss Anne Cox. She was going to Ford’s, too, so I could hardly avoid her.” She grimaced. “I don’t think she likes me. She’ll make cutting remarks but then says she’s only joking.”

Emma patted her arm. “She’s jealous because you married Robert. Don’t forget that she once expressed interest in him. I dare say she cannot forgive you for snatching him up from under her rather long nose.”

Harriet’s eyes rounded with shock. “But Robert was never interested in Miss Cox! He told me so himself.”

Emma truly loved her friend, but sometimes conducting a sensible conversation with her was a trifle challenging. “It was simply a figure of speech, dear. You must put Miss Cox in her place, Harriet. There is no need to tolerate her pert comments.”

“But I can never think of anything to say in the moment. I tried writing cutting remarks in my scrapbook, but when I see Miss Cox, I always forget them.”