“I—I…” Mrs. Hester looked confused.
“Being smart does not grant a person wisdom. Nor does it make a person right one hundred percent of the time.”
“Aye, and in my time, I have seen a smart person brought low by someone they judged inferior to them,” Mrs. Hull said.
“Successful smart people have their intelligence tempered with humility,” Cecilia explained.
“Pride cometh before a fall,” Sarah murmured.
“Did the squire know Mrs. Jones often went up into the downs to paint?” Cecilia asked.
“Yes. Everyone in the village did,” Mrs. Hester replied.
“It is likely that the squire followed her up onto the downs and threatened her in some way to keep her tongue between her teeth and not spread stories of what she suspected had happened to Georgia.”
“Gossip would anger him,” Mrs. Hester said, frowning.
Cecilia nodded. “That is my expectation as well. Unfortunately, we have no way of proving that the magistrate was instrumental in Georgia’s death or in Mrs. Jones death. However, rumor might,” Cecilia said.
“What do you mean?” Mrs. Hull asked.
“We,” Cecilia said, indicating the four of them in the vicar’s parlor, “know the magistrate is culpable in the deaths of his daughter and Mrs. Jones, but we lack proof. What do you suppose might happen if these deaths were discussed in the village with doubts raised?”
Sarah smiled, her eyes bright. “Gossip!” she declared.
“Yes. The village loves to gossip. What if we carefully feed it bits of gossip, bits from Georgia’s diary, and other ideas at the gathering after her funeral?”
“It would go around like a wildfire; however, how can that help us entrap Squire Inglewood?”
“I’ll ask the vicar to give a sermon on the evils of gossip on Sunday and have him say that I have read Miss Inglewood’sdiary, and he can ask me to come forward to share with the congregation what Miss Inglewood wrote. I will try to demur, but he will insist, and I will reluctantly read from the diary.”
“The squire will protest, say that it is an invasion of family privacy or some such. Or claim that what you’re reading is fake,” Mrs. Hester said.
“I expect him to. I doubt any will believe him and will want to hear from the diary.”
Mrs. Hester nodded slowly. “He will anger quickly and not be overly cautious with his words.”
“That is what I am hoping.”
“What gossip are we to share?” Mrs. Hull asked. “And how are we to share it?”
“I brought her diary with me,” Cecilia said, opening her reticule and drawing out the book. “We can start with what she wrote. Mrs. Hull, can you get paper and a pen or pencil that we can note down what we want to slyly share?”
“The vicar has some in his study. I’m sure he won’t mind us using some,” she said, getting up to fetch the items.
“Do you think this will work?” Sarah asked.
Mrs. Hester thought a moment, wiped away the last of her tears, and nodded. “I know the squire the best, and knowing him, I think it will. He is prideful. He will not stay silent.”
“And I’m hoping it will get Lady Alfred Inglewood to speak up,” Cecilia said.
“Let’s start with the bit of gossip Summer Rutledge told me that I found confirmed in the diary.” She opened the diary, flipping through the pages. “All right. Here it is…”
CHAPTER 15
A BURIAL AND A GATHERING
James informed Cecilia that the vicar had scheduled his wife’s burial for one o’clock in the afternoon.
