Free Devil May Care (A Jonathan Harker Mystery) by Tony Evans Page B

and revelations that he might well wish to avoid.
    Having made that decision, there seemed little more that could be done before Monday. Mina and I therefore planned to spend the rest of the day quietly at Rosehill and to explore the attractions of St Ives on Saturday, staying at my room in the George Hotel that evening. However, as we were shortly to discover, the poet Burns was as usual correct in his observation that:
    The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men ,
    Gang aft agley ,
    An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain ,
    For promis'd joy !

     
    Chapter Eight
     
    Friday morning passed very pleasantly with Charles ensconced in his study preparing his sermon for the coming Sunday, while Mina browsed amongst our hosts’ bookshelves and I read a copy of the previous day’s Times . Lucy Wollas had been given her weekly day off and so Edith was busy with Grace and Wilfred in the nursery.
    The fine autumn weather continued and after luncheon the four of us walked in the nearby lanes, leaving the children in the charge of the Ashbys’ kind and competent cook, Mrs Heather. After we had returned and taken tea, Charles announced that he had an appointment with his sexton at six o’clock and invited Mina and me to join him, as we had not yet seen St Elwyn church. Mina declined as she was feeling tired from her walk, but I gladly agreed, as I was interested to see the building: its architect, John Sedding had designed the fine church of Holy Trinity Sloane Street in the metropolis just five years ago.
    It was almost eight o’clock by the time Charles and I returned to Rosehill and the gathering shadows which had accompanied our departure had turned to a deeper darkness. Edith came to the hall to meet us, looking uncharacteristically troubled.
    ‘I’m afraid Mina isn’t here,’ she said. ‘An hour ago a message was sent over from Miss Copthorne, who lives just a mile south of here. She was the village schoolmistress in Hayle for thirty years before she retired. She had been taken ill earlier this week and had been prescribed a tonic, but was feeling very poorly. I tried to make Mina wait for Charles to return, but I’m afraid she insisted on going herself and on foot too. I’m sorry Jonathan.’
    ‘Don’t blame yourself,’ I said. ‘Mina seldom gives way to my wishes – why should she take account of yours? However, I shall take Willow and ride there straight away, if you can direct me.’
    ‘Not at all,’ Charles broke in. ‘I insist on going myself. You will only get lost and then there will be two Harkers unaccounted for instead of one. Mina can ride back on Nat and I will walk with her.’
    *
    When my friend returned half an hour later his normal good humour had been replaced with an air of grave concern. He had some worrying news.
    ‘Mina arrived at the cottage at a quarter past seven and left twenty minutes later,’ he announced. ‘Miss Copthorne said that she felt much happier after having talked to your wife. The old lady waited at the gate to see her walk down the road and just before Mina reached the corner another woman came up to her and they exchanged a few words. Then they walked off together – hurriedly. Miss Copthorne did not recognise the other woman, but she said she was in her fifties and was dressed like a respectable farmer’s wife.’
    The three of us had a swift conversation to decide upon our next step. Knowing Mina as well as I did, I was certain that there must have been a very good reason for her not to have returned promptly to Rosehill. She was certainly not going to be persuaded to leave with a strange woman on false pretences.
    ‘I dare say another parishioner in need of help has obtained Mina’s services,’ I said. ‘There seems little point in knocking on the doors of everyone within a two mile radius. My wife is a sensible and resourceful woman – I’m sure there’s no need for alarm. Let us wait until eleven o’clock. If by then Mina has not returned, and has sent us no