“But some thirty minutes later, she returned this way, actually running. She seemed . . .” Mrs. Ford grimaced. “Distraught.”
Emma tried not to grit her teeth. “Mrs. Ford, surely you are not suggesting that Miss Bates had anything to do with Mrs. Elton’s demise. Miss Bates and Mrs. Elton were very friendly with each other.”
At least until recently.
“Pish,” Anne tossed off. “Everyone knows that’s not true, especially after Jane married Frank Churchill. Jane and Miss Bates made a fool out of Mrs. Elton. And Miss Bates acting so high and mighty about Jane and Frank, when it was really quite scandalous what they did.”
Susan nodded. “A secret engagement. I remember Mama said she would die with shame if her daughters ever acted like that. She also said Mrs. Elton was—”
Emma interrupted her. “Perhaps your mother should consider saying less on the matter. Nor can I believe that your father, a solicitor, would be pleased to hear that you were spreading unpleasant gossip about Miss Bates.”
Anne looked defensive. “It’s not as if anyone would actuallyblameMiss Bates or anyone else for murdering Mrs. Elton. She was always lording it over the rest of us, as if she were too good for Highbury.”
“That is quite enough, Anne,” Mrs. Cole said with heavy disapproval. “Mrs. Knightley is correct to say that your father would be most displeased with this foolish conversation.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Cole.” Emma turned to Harriet. “Dearest, have you found everything you were looking for?”
“Er . . . ,” her friend replied, caught off guard.
“Excellent. Then we shall be on our way.”
She took Harriet by the arm and marched her out of the shop. The door slammed shut behind them, with the little shop bell jingling frantically.
“Oh, Mrs. Knightley,” Harriet said as she hurried to keep pace with Emma. “You were splendid. I was so upset that I could hardly string two thoughts together.”
“It was an utterly stupid conversation.”
And one that could potentially do a great deal of damage to Miss Bates, especially once it became known that shehadbeen present at the scene of the crime.
“But you gave Anne such a splendid set-down.”
“I was tempted to box her ears. Only the knowledge that I might be charged with assault prevented me from doing so. It would be very embarrassing for Mr. Knightley if I were to land in prison.”
Harriet giggled.
Emma slowed her pace as the flames of her anger died down. “What a trial those two girls must be to their parents.”
Harriet cast her a troubled glance. “But Miss Batesisinvolved, isn’t she? You said so yourself, Mrs. Knightley. Can you tell me how?”
She nodded. “Come to Hartfield and have a cup of tea. I’ll explain everything there. It was all an unfortunate misunderstanding, of course, but it’s still worrisome.”
And it was also worrisome that despite her best efforts to nip the ugly gossip in the bud, it would surely continue to spread.
Miss Bates, Emma feared, was in rather serious trouble.
CHAPTER8
The former ballroom at the Crown Inn was already crowded with Highbury residents. A few rows of chairs at the front of the room were set aside for witnesses, while another twelve against the east wall were reserved for the men who sat on the coroner’s jury.
Emma thought the inquest an unnecessary distraction, but the law was the law. So they must all be jammed into a stuffy room to rehash distressing details, only to arrive hours later at a foregone conclusion.
She glanced at her father, who looked remarkably out of place in an elegant greatcoat and his best hat and gloves. Behind them hovered a footman, cashmere shawl at the ready in case his master encountered an errant draft. There was little chance of that, given the warm summer weather.
“Father, it’s so crowded in here,” she said. “I promise to look after Miss Bates if you wish to return home.”
“Is Miss Bates here?” he anxiously replied. “Do you see her?”
An elderly gentleman seated off to the side let out a violent sneeze—sans handkerchief.
