Murder in Abbot's Folly Read Free

mysteriously. ‘After that it will become public knowledge, but we can’t pre-empt Laura’s great day.’
    What on earth was all this about? Georgia wondered. This story of a great love affair was news to her, but then she was no expert on Jane Austen’s life. She could see Peter’s patience fast evaporating again, and he must have decided that enough was enough.
    â€˜I’ll make a guess, shall I?’ he asked jovially. ‘Jane Austen murdered her lover and left his body in the folly.’
    Elena gasped, but Gerald and Dora merely seemed bewildered. ‘Oh no, nothing like that,’ Gerald replied.
    Peter looked somewhat abashed. ‘I’m sorry, Elena. If you knew Amelia, you must have known Robert Luckhurst too, and so I should not be making jokes about him. He doesn’t seem to have been a particular friend of yours, though,’ he added awkwardly.
    â€˜No, darling. He was very reclusive,’ Elena replied. ‘I hardly knew him and I knew Amelia only a little better . . .’ She hesitated. ‘Not a very happy marriage, I’m afraid.’
    â€˜So the rumours that she sought fresh woods and pastures new in the way of gentlemen friends might be true?’ Georgia said.
    â€˜Oh, no .’ Elena looked shocked. Then she must have caught Peter’s eye because she giggled. ‘Well, perhaps. Just occasionally.’
    Something tugged at Georgia’s heart. Some distant memory of Elena laughing one magical day in Georgia’s childhood when they had been picnicking on the downs. All of them: Elena, Peter, herself – and Rick. Peter had slipped over and landed with one hand right in the middle of the jelly. Judging by Peter’s expression, he had some similar memory.
    â€˜With Max Tanner?’ he almost snapped at Elena.
    â€˜I never knew. I really didn’t know her well.’ Elena retreated, perhaps alarmed at the shared moment of intimacy.
    Nonsense, Georgia told herself, nonsense. She was imagining this emotional tension, perhaps because she wanted to – but what did that imply? Change the subject quickly. ‘What happens at this Gala?’ she asked.
    Dora needed no urging. ‘It’s going to be such fun. Laura Fettis, who owns Stourdens, is my greatest friend – except for you, Elena,’ she added diplomatically. ‘ Such fun. I am sure she will show you the Stourdens Jane Austen collection which dwarfs our own modest memorabilia.’ She put her finger to her lips. ‘But I must say no more about that until Laura has spoken. I can tell you about the Gala itself, though. There will be Georgian cookery demonstrations and a buffet of Georgian food – and shuttlecock. You must all play shuttlecock, you really must. There will be riding, fencing, and of course dancing . Naturally, you must all come in costume.’
    Dora beamed, and Georgia saw Peter’s face fall. She shared his feelings. To be clad in period costume was not something she warmed to. ‘And bring your dear husband, Georgia,’ Dora added, oblivious to their reactions. ‘After all, as a local publisher he should be present. He might even discover another Jane Austen.’
    â€˜I’ll ask him,’ Georgia said, trying to imagine Luke dancing the cotillion while checking out hopeful authors.
    â€˜Costume,’ Peter muttered. ‘I’m afraid breeches and swallowtails are somewhat beyond me.’
    â€˜But you must come, Peter,’ Elena said firmly. Georgia saw him hesitate, and her misgivings returned now that it seemed certain this was not going to be the last they saw of Elena on this trip to England. Nevertheless, Georgia was all too conscious that there was a gulf between them that had to be faced and somehow crossed, which could not be achieved by retreat. Was seeing Elena again on Saturday going to help that problem disappear? No, in Georgia’s view. At best Saturday would produce the