Page 164 of Murder at Donwell Abbey
Emma sighed, feeling dreadfully sad for the girl. “Initially, I wondered if Harry had feelings for her, but he swore up and down that he had a sweetheart back in London. He was very convincing.”
“He had to be,” said George.
Miss Bates fluttered a hand. “I don’t understand why they needed to keep it a secret. No one even knew Harry was a smuggler.”
“Plumtree insisted,” George replied. “He felt knowledge of their relationship would attract too much attention—mostly from me, but obviously from the other servants, as well.”
“Harry also told us that Prudence’s family would not have approved,” Emma interjected.
George nodded. “I’m not surprised, given how protective they were of the girl. It did not meet with Mr. Trotman’s approval either, according to his wife. But Harry was set on leaving the smuggling game behind and moving to Yorkshire, where he and Prudence intended to open an inn. Mrs. Trotman also wished to join them there, to escape from her husband.”
“I assume Harry was going to use his ill-gotten gains to fund this new life?” Emma asked.
George nodded. “Yes.”
“Was Prudence aware of the source of his funds?”
“Not at first,” he replied. “According to Plumtree, Harry managed to keep it secret from her for several weeks.”
“But she eventually found out,” Emma concluded.
“And became quite upset. She insisted that if Harry wished to marry her, he needed to cease his smuggling activities immediately. He promised that he would, although he had no intention of doing so until his business at Donwell was concluded. As you can imagine, that turn of events made Plumtree very nervous. He thought Harry was a fool for getting involved with Prudence in the first place.”
John let out a disgusted snort. “The blighter made that pretty clear. I was tempted to darken his daylights when he started talking about the poor girl. Personally, I hope the judge sees through this lunacy nonsense and sends the man straight to the gallows.”
“John, you must refrain from using such rough language around the ladies,” Father said with disapproval. “It will offend their delicate sensibilities.”
Since her brother-in-law responded to that paternal reprimand with a scowl, obviously readying a sharp retort, Emma hastily intervened.
“I will assume that Prudence discovered that Harry had not, in fact, given up smuggling,” she said to George.
“Indeed. She found out that Harry and Guy were going to carry out a run the night of betrothal party at Donwell.”
Mr. Weston made a disgusted noise. “The night of the party? What absolute nerve. I don’t know how you can relate this all so calmly, Knightley. It’s outrageous.”
“I never said it wasn’t,” George replied. “However, it was quite a clever move on their part. They intended to use the commotion as a distraction to cover the removal of tobacco from the cellar. I understand from Mr. Clarke that it’s not an uncommon tactic to use such events to do so.”
Nowit all became clear.
“Prudence and Harry fought before the party, didn’t they?” asked Emma. “That’s what she wastrulyupset about, not—”
She mentally winced, recalling her suspicion that William Cox had been the cause of the girl’s upset.
“That’s what she was upset about,” she rather lamely concluded.
George’s gaze held an ironic glint since he obviously knew what she was thinking. Thankfully, he merely nodded.
“Yes. Prudence threatened to come to me and expose the entire scheme if Harry went ahead with the plan. He promised her that it would be his final run, because then they would have the funds they needed to start their new life.”
Emma couldn’t help but recall how distressed Prudence had been that night. “I wonder if she still intended to go to you, regardless.”
“Shewasvery upset when we saw her in the corridor,” commented Mrs. Weston.
“We cannot know,” George replied. “What we do know is that Plumtree was not reassured by Harry’s insistence that he could manage Prudence. He decided, obviously without Harry’s knowledge, that Prudence needed to be silenced.”
Miss Bates dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, clearly overcome. “That poor, poor girl. And when I think of how many pleasant conversations I had with Guy over the years … why, it’s almost impossible to believe.”
“I for one never trusted the Plumtrees,” said Father in a severe tone. “The squire is much too bluff and blustering for my comfort.”
