George threw her an ironic glance before refocusing on their guest. “May I ask why you feel the need for my wife to be present?”
“Because the issue in question regards Miss Bates,” he replied. “I’m afraid it might cast the poor woman in an unfortunate light. That being the case, I thought it sensible to speak with Mrs. Knightley, as well, since Miss Bates obviously relies on her and Mr. Woodhouse for support and comfort.”
Drat, and double drat.
“I do hope we can keep this matter away from my father,” she said more sharply than she intended.
Mr. Elton’s eyes popped wide. “I wouldn’t upset your father for the world, dear madam. Indeed, I debated long and hard as to whether I should even share this information.”
“Perhaps you can allow us to judge its relevance,” George said.
“Of course.” The vicar extracted a folded sheet of paper from his coat and gave it to George.
Emma tried to read over her husband’s shoulder. “What does it say?”
With his face set like stone, George handed it over.
In the few moments it took her to read, her heart plummeted to the root cellar. Part of her denied what she was seeing, because it simply didn’t make sense.
“This is a promissory note between Miss Bates and Mrs. Elton for fifty pounds,” she flatly stated.
“Mr. Elton, are you sure that your wife loaned Miss Bates this entire sum?” George asked.
“I think so. My wife managed her own financial matters. She did often consult with Mr. Suckling but generally did as she wished with her money.”
“This is a great deal of money,” Emma exclaimed. “Especially for Miss Bates.”
The vicar sighed—again. “That was Augusta’s way. She was always so openhearted and generous.”
Having known Mrs. Elton, Emma would bet a bob that the loan had nothing to do with selfless generosity. Why, then?
George retrieved the note from her. “So, we can assume that this was the source of the awkwardness between the two ladies.”
“I believe so,” Mr. Elton replied.
“Are you also suggesting that Miss Bates could not or would not repay the loan?”
The vicar spread his hands wide. “I cannot answer that, Mr. Knightley. But I do know that Augusta was unhappy with Miss Bates.”
Emma fought a rising sense of dread. “Do you truly think that Miss Bates would murder Mrs. Elton because of a debt, sir?”
“Of course one does not wish to eventhinksuch a thing. That is why I thought to ask both your opinions first.”
“My opinion is that it’s ridiculous,” she retorted. “I’m quite amazed you would even consider it.”
“My dear,” George said in a warning voice.
She rounded on her husband. “If Miss Bates needed money, she only had to ask Jane, or even my father or Mr. Weston. Why in heaven’s name would she go to Mrs. Elton?”
“I cannot answer that,” he calmly replied. “But Miss Bates can.”
“George, she has only just begun to recover her equanimity. This will throw her into a complete stew.”
“I’m sure there must be a reasonable explanation, and only Miss Bates can supply it.”
“I concede the point,” she grudgingly admitted. “But must we ask her tonight?”
“Better to ask while she is here, with friends.”
