Page 70 of Murder in Highbury

The vicar looked taken aback.

“My husband mentioned it, just in passing,” she hastily added.

She could only hope that George and the vicar never had a discussion regarding said will. That would be adecidedlyawkward conversation.

“Ah, of course. As magistrate, Mr. Knightley would know all about such things. As I explained to Dr. Hughes, Augusta meant to write a will, but she was always too busy. And who could anticipate that her life would be so cruelly cut short?”

“I hope you don’t encounter additional difficulties in that regard,” Emma replied.

“Who is to say? Augusta managed everything, as I said. She had quite a fine head for financial matters, while I’m a simple man of the cloth.”

As George had noted, there was nothing simple about Mr. Elton and money.

Harriet suddenly piped up. “Since Mrs. Elton didn’t leave a will, that means you’ll inherit everything, including her lovely jewelry and beautiful clothes.”

Emma mentally winced at her friend’s blunt approach. “Harriet, you’ll embarrass poor Mr. Elton.”

“But, Mrs. Knightley, you mentioned it first,” she replied, looking perplexed.

“I simply wished to relay to Mr. Elton that I would be happy to assist him in any small matters—for instance, going through Mrs. Elton’s personal effects. That is a difficult task.” She gave Mr. Elton an apologetic smile. “I know that my father struggled with it when my mother passed.”

Mr. Elton grimaced. “Dear Mr. Woodhouse. Such a sad bond we now share.”

“Be assured that I am happy to provide any necessary assistance.”

“I am most grateful, dear madam. But my housekeeper has already taken on that task. She was devoted to my wife and will certainly know what she would have wished.”

Drat.

She’d rather been hoping for the opportunity to snoop around Mrs. Elton’s bedroom, although she hardly knew what she expected to find.

“It must be a comfort to be able to rely on Mrs. Wright during such a difficult time. And everyone else in Highbury, of course,” she said instead.

Except for one particular person who wishes you dead.

“And all wish to helpyou, Mr. Elton,” she meaningfully added. “Everylast person in the village, I’m sure.”

She carefully watched for his reaction, but he simply nodded.

“I am indeed fortunate to have friends such as yourself and Mr. Knightley.” Then he bestowed a warm smile on Harriet. “And you, too, Mrs. Martin. You have beensucha comfort.”

When Harriet gazed soulfully back at him, Emma decided—with some alarm—that their visit was best concluded. Mr. Elton escorted them to the door, assuring Emma that he would soon call ondear Mr. Woodhouse.

As they walked along Vicarage Lane, Emma listened to Harriet’s sympathetic observations aboutpoor Mr. Eltonwith only half an ear, because she was fixed on her startling discovery. Their vicar seemed to have acquired a true and possibly dangerous enemy. And that begged the question, had the danger extended to Mrs. Elton, as well?

CHAPTER15

Emma found her husband in the study. “There you are. When did you get back from Donwell?”

George glanced up from his ledgers with a smile. “About a half hour ago. I’m sorry I didn’t join you and your father for tea. I needed to check some figures for William Larkins regarding the sale of some sheep.”

She subsided into a chair. “Goodness, I don’t know how you can bear the excitement.”

“A welcome change from my discussions with Dr. Hughes and Constable Sharpe, I assure you. The former insists on laboriously reviewing every detail of the investigation, and the latter vacillates between wishing to interrogate Miss Bates and arresting any vagrant within a mile of Highbury. Compared to that, discussing sheep with Larkins is positively restful.”

“Constable Sharpe is truly a dreary man,” she replied. “And fatally lacking in imagination if that is the best he can do.”

“Perhaps you can share that assessment with our good constable when next you see him. Then he can be annoyed with you instead of me for advising him against wholesale arrests.”