The Walkers of Dembley by M.C. Beaton

Author:M.C. Beaton
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: For the Benefit of Mr. Kite
Published: 1994-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

6

The following morning, James finally agreed to Agatha’s suggestion that she should talk directly to Alice and Gemma and see what she could find out and he should talk to Jeffrey, and after that, they would tell Bill Wong what they knew. As none of the people they wanted to interview was likely to be free before early evening, they decided to spend the day in Carsely, attending to household chores.

Neither had realized what an amount of gossip their taking off together for parts unknown would cause in the village, Mrs Mason having kept discreetly quiet.

Agatha’s first caller after she had fed her cats was the vicar’s wife, Mrs Bloxby.

“And where have you been?” asked Mrs Bloxby.

“We just went off on a little trip,” said Agatha, rather proud of the fact that the vicar’s wife obviously thought she and James were now ‘a number’.

Mrs Bloxby’s kind eyes surveyed Agatha’s flushed and happy face. “You like Mr Lacey, do you not?”

“Oh, yes, we’re great friends.”

They were sitting in Agatha’s garden. The cats rolled on the lawn in the sunlight. Great fleecy clouds ambled across the sky overhead. It was an idyllic day.

“I sometimes think,” said the vicar’s wife, leaning back in her chair and addressing a cloud, “that we are very quick to counsel young people while neglecting our contemporaries.”

“Meaning?” asked Agatha.

Mrs Bloxby’s mild eyes descended again to rest on Agatha’s face. “Meaning that a lot of the old advice is still relevant in this wicked age, even for women such as ourselves. I have observed that men who get what they want outside marriage, particularly confirmed bachelors like James Lacey, are therefore content to stay unmarried.”

“I am not having an affair with James,” snapped Agatha.

“Oh, my dear, I thought…You must forgive me for jumping to the wrong conclusion.” Mrs Bloxby gave a little laugh. “I should have realized – you are probably both investigating something. Do forgive me.”

“That’s all right,” mumbled Agatha, “but don’t tell anyone in the village we’re on a case. It’s supposed to be a secret.”

“I should have known better. Do not think me impertinent. Mr Lacey is a very charming man. But he did have an affair with poor Mary, that woman who was murdered, and in that case I always thought it was a matter of casual sex.”

No, thought Agatha, he was briefly in love with her, and remembered sharply all the pain she had felt.

As Mrs Bloxby began to talk of village matters, Agatha suddenly wished she herself had not been so honest. She wanted every woman in the village to think that she was having an affair with James. But now Mrs Bloxby, without revealing anything about the investigation, would contrive to let everyone know the friendship was innocent.

After the vicar’s wife had left, Agatha decided to take herself down to Moreton-in-Marsh for a quiet lunch. She wanted to be alone and think about James and turn over everything he had said in her mind, always searching for some hint that his feelings might be warming towards her.

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