“Why, yes, they are,” the headmistress replied. “How clever of you to notice.”
Emma got the distinct impression that Mrs. Goddard wished she hadn’t noticed.
“And that’s a new writing desk in the corner,” Harriet exclaimed. “It fits so nicely in that spot, as if it was made for it.”
It was indeed handsome and likely ordered from London, since there would be no one in Highbury who could make such a fine piece.
Mrs. Goddard turned around to look, as if surprised to find it there. “Yes, it is rather new, I suppose. Miss Nash was in desperate need of a writing desk, since hers was quite falling to pieces. So, she took my old desk—not that it wasthatold—and I replaced it with this one.”
That was rather a lot of words from Mrs. Goddard, who was beginning to sound almost like Miss Bates.
“A perfectly neat solution,” Emma said.
When an awkward silence followed that observation, she decided it was time to get to the heart of the matter.
“As delightful as it is to see you, ma’am,” she said, “this is not entirely a social call.”
Uncertainty flashed for a moment across Mrs. Goddard’s face before her expression smoothed into its usual placid lines.
“Of course, I am always happy to be of assistance, Mrs. Knightley. What can I do for you?”
“It’s rather a delicate matter. I have no wish to cause you distress, but—”
“Miss Nash overhead you arguing with Mrs. Elton,” Harriet burst out. “She said Mrs. Elton sounded very angry and that you were upset. And that you’restillupset.”
Harriet had many wonderful qualities. Subtlety was not one of them.
Mrs. Goddard went very still as her gaze darted between Emma and Harriet.
“I don’t know what to say,” she finally replied. “Except to note that those discussions were private, and I would prefer they remain that way.”
“Please don’t be mad at Miss Nash,” Harriet pleaded. “She was worried about you.”
“Sheisworried about you,” Emma smoothly interjected. “Miss Nash spoke with Harriet because of her concern for your well-being.”
“Then why areyouhere, Mrs. Knightley?” the headmistress sharply asked.
That tone was decidedly unusual for her. Clearly, Mrs. Goddard was rattled.
“Harriet came to me because she knows my father and I greatly value your friendship,” she calmly replied. “We would wish to be of assistance if necessary.”
“It’s not.”
Emma refused to retreat, because every instinct clamored that something was wrong. “Are you quite sure, Mrs. Goddard? Whatever you and Mrs. Elton discussed has surely affected you.”
The headmistress glanced down at her lap, as if unable to meet Emma’s gaze. When she smoothed her skirts with trembling fingers, Emma knew she’d hit the mark.
“Ma’am,” she gently said, “as you know, Miss Bates has come under a degree of suspicion in this dreadful affair. We only wish to help her—and you, if need be. If you can impart any information that might shed light on Mrs. Elton’s odd behavior, it could prove to be very useful.”
Mrs. Goddard breathed out a weary sigh, her shoulders slumping a bit. “You needn’t dance around the situation any longer, Mrs. Knightley. Miss Bates told me that Constable Sharpe tried to arrest her. That’s why I’ve been in such a state, and I’m utterly unsure what to do about it.”
It was Emma’s turn to sigh. “We’ve been trying to keep that information private.”
“You mustn’t blame poor Miss Bates. She told me quite by accident. She certainly didn’t intend to blurt it out.”
Unfortunately, blurting things out was rather a specialty for Miss Bates.
“You’ve told no one else?”
