Poor Law (The James Blakiston Series Book 2)

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by R J Lynch


  ‘Then the only thing remaining to me, King, is to tell you that you are absolved, insofar as God’s human representative can achieve that. Go in peace. And take care to sin no more.’

  Chapter 27

  The next morning, Blakiston set off for his meeting with Lord Ravenshead. The welcome was cordial as ever – more so, in fact, as Lord Ravenshead wished to congratulate Blakiston on his marriage. ‘I take it none of the Blackett family put in an appearance?’

  Blakiston smiled. He knew his Lordship’s views about the Blacketts and he understood that no reply was needed. His Lordship said, ‘The harvest went well?’

  ‘According to the records, it was easily the best we have ever had. Of course, the weather was kind to us this year. It rained when we would have it rain and the sun shone when the grain was already full in the ear.’

  ‘Yes, Blakiston, the weather contributed – but your care and your introduction of new scientific methods contributed even more. You will find that I have authorised an additional payment to you. It is partly because you are now a married man with a wife who has a wife’s needs, but it is mostly a sign of my gratitude for the improvements you have made in this estate.’

  ‘Thank you, your Lordship.’

  ‘It is no more than you deserve, Blakiston. You have heard that Job King intends to return to the colonies?’

  ‘I had.’

  ‘I wondered, Blakiston, whether you had ever considered a move to the colonies yourself?’

  Blakiston pondered his reply. He was not going to say that the thought had never crossed his mind, because that would not have been true. In fact, the truth was something to which he could give voice now. ‘It was very much in my mind, your Lordship. But then I was offered this position here. If you had not taken me on, I imagine I would be in Virginia at this moment.’

  ‘Then this country is as fortunate as I am that I made my offer when I did. But, Blakiston. The estate that King has been renting. What do you know of it?’

  ‘I have dined there as a guest of Job King. It is a pretty house, well furnished and appointed. It has attractive gardens of its own and it is at the heart of fertile farm land that has done well for King, was doing well before him, and could do even better in the future.’

  ‘I am pleased to hear you say that. My son… Wrekin. He shows as yet no sign of wishing to settle and I confess that when I think of a suitable mate for him, no name presses itself forward. His wife, when he takes one, will have to be a woman of good family, of at least equal rank with our own and ideally higher. She will also need to bring with her a significant endowment. But that, as I say, is still in the future. The fact is, Blakiston – and I should prefer that this not be spoken about outside these walls – that I and my son make do not find it easy to live in the same house. It would be better for his equilibrium were he to be established in a place of his own. And it would certainly be better for mine. What I wondered, Blakiston, is whether the estate that King will be vacating might be a suitable place for him. It is far enough away for us not to be forever in each other’s way and close enough that I would hear regularly of his doings there. What do you think?’

  Blakiston’s opinion of Wrekin was a poor one. Blakiston, along with the rector, had had to deal with the after effects of Wrekin’s ravishing of Lizzie Greener. They had done so and done it well, and the result was not only the raising of Tom Laws but also the chain of events that had ended with Blakiston’s marriage to Kate. Nevertheless, Blakiston had not failed to notice that Wrekin had taken no part at all in covering the damage cause by what had, however you looked at it, been an act of rape. In fact, he had seemed to feel that the storm he had bought about his ears was a fuss about nothing. He had dishonoured a girl from the lower orders – his attitude could perhaps be best described as, “So what?”

  But none of that would have been well received by Ravenshead. And so Blakiston said that what he thought: that not only would the estate be a good place for his Lordship to place his son, but it would also be an excellent investment and likely to return a tidy profit over the years.

  Ravenshead clapped his hands. ‘That is excellent. I confess it is exactly what I hoped to hear. But we will keep it between ourselves, Blakiston. What? ‘

  ‘We should certainly do that, your Lordship, until you have been able to accomplish the purchase. There is nothing to be gained by putting the vendors on notice that you have an interest there.’

  ‘My thoughts exactly. I shall have my agent recruit the services of another agent so that the presence of Ravenshead money in the transaction will not be obvious until terms have been agreed.’

  His business with Lord Ravenshead having concluded earlier than he had expected, Blakiston found that he could now call on Walter Maughan that afternoon instead of the following day. When he arrived, they went through the social routine to which he was by now resigned in Maughan’s company. He was shown into the parlour. Coffee, fruit cake and cheese were served. And then Maughan placed the list before him. He said, ‘I do not know what you can learn from this, because it is certain that I have learned nothing from it myself, but I have been through the records of all three chapelries with great care and I am sure that every pauper that was dealt with by me, Ezra Hindmarsh and Wilkin Longstaff together is on that list.’

  Blakiston surveyed the names. Then he folded the list, placed it into a pocket in his jacket, and stood up. ‘Thank you, Maughan. I shall study it with care and see whether it speaks any more clearly to me than it does to you.’

  When he got home that evening, he placed the list in front of his wife. ‘Walter Maughan says he can see no pattern in these names. I wonder whether you will agree with him.’

  Over dinner, Kate said, ‘It seems to me that the pattern is very clear. And it points at only one name.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Blakiston. ‘That is what I thought. And the name in question is that of Job King.’

  Kate nodded. ‘There was a fourth overseer with them. Ezekiel Watson. And he has grandchildren.’

  ‘They will be in danger. As will Matilda Longstaff. They must be protected. He must know that he is identified.’

  ‘What will you do?’

  ‘I shall confront him with the evidence and ask what he has to say for himself.’

  Chapter 28

  It would not have been Blakiston’s way to postpone dealing with an uncomfortable situation, and he did not do so. The following morning, he presented himself at the imposing entrance to Job King’s residence. Told that King was still at breakfast, Blakiston said, ‘I shall wait. You may inform your master that this is not a social visit.’

  The man showed Blakiston into a room in which he was to wait and hurried away. He was quickly back. ‘If you will come this way, Mister Blakiston, Mister King will be happy to see you.’

  Blakiston was shown into what was clearly a breakfast room and found King enjoying a substantial meal. ‘Thank you, Jonathan,’ said King. ‘You may leave us. Please close the door and make sure that everyone knows that Mister Blakiston and I are not to be interrupted.’ He looked at Blakiston and the overseer was unable to avoid the conclusion that King was smiling at him. ‘Mister Blakiston. You will take breakfast with me?’

  ‘Thank you, but no. I ate handsomely just before coming here.’

  King nodded. ‘Take a seat, man, at least. And you will excuse me if I finish my own meal.‘ He gathered a piece of fried egg onto a piece of bacon, put both onto a piece of bread and placed the whole in his mouth. Still the impression of a hidden smile was irresistibly there. He said, ‘You have something you wish to ask me, I believe.’

  ‘Walter Maughan. Wilkin Longstaff. Ezra Hindmarsh. Do those names together have any significance for you?’

  ‘You have missed one.’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Walter Maughan. Wilkin Longstaff. Ezra Hindmarsh. And Isaac Oliver. All four were overseers of the poor and all four allowed my two brothers and two sisters to starve to death.’

/>   ‘You killed Margaret Laws and the young Ezra Hindmarsh.’

  ‘An eye for an eye,’ Mister Blakiston. ‘A life for a life.’

  ‘You admit it?’

  ‘Aye, to you, with no-one else listening. I wish you well with the knowledge; you have no witnesses to my confession and if you attempt to bring me before a judge the judge will see that I am richer than you, and of greater importance, and you will not be believed. That is the way of it in England. You might be listened to more closely in the colonies. But that is not where we are.’

  Blakiston leaned forward and banged his fist on the table. ‘You are confessing to murder. And yet you expect to go unpunished. What sort of world is this?’

  ‘The sort our betters have made for us. It worked against me and mine when we were young; forgive me if I choose to make use of it now.’

  ‘That is detestable!’

  ‘More detestable than the negligence of the overseers who let my brothers and sisters die? Those Christian men who gave praise and thanks to God in church every Sunday and showed my family no mercy?’

  Blakiston sat back in his chair. There was no point in allowing anger to get the better of him. He knew now who the killer was and he knew he could do nothing about it.

  King said, ‘I have been expecting your visit. I am grateful, for it allows me to say what I want to say.’

  ‘You intended to kill Matilda Longstaff.’

  ‘I did. And when I had done so, I meant to kill Isaac Oliver’s grandson Reuben.’

  ‘Why did you not do so? Why did you spare the Longstaff girl?’

  ‘Because, my dear fellow, it was not as I expected. I have brooded for years over the wrongs done to my family. I have dreamed of the satisfaction that righting those wrongs would bring me. It did not. I killed Margaret Laws and it brought me no satisfaction and no peace. I killed the Hindmarsh boy and that was worse because there was still no satisfaction and no peace and now I had the pain of seeing how much hurt I had visited on the old man and his wife. Hindmarsh did me and my family great wrong. What I learned was that there was no comfort in doing him wrong in return.’

  ‘And Matilda Longstaff?’

  ‘I could not do it. It was as simple as that. I saw her there, I had it in my power to inflict on Wilkin Longstaff the same hurt as I had on Ezra Hindmarsh, but by now I knew that I could take no pleasure from it. I did not even look at Reuben Oliver. Four of my brothers and sisters died because of those four men. Killing Matilda Longstaff and Reuben Oliver would not have avenged the four of mine. It would simply have meant that two more children were dead. Two more young people who could have lived lives in which who knows what they might have achieved? I could not do it. When wrong has been done to you by others, you do not make it right by doing wrong yourself. You simply add to the total of wrongs that have been done. I did not understand that, and now I do. I was as helpless to achieve vengeance as you are to do anything with this knowledge you now have.’ He drank the last of his tea, wiped his beard and moustache with a napkin and stood up. ‘And now, Mister Blakiston, I am returning to the colonies with all of those who depend on me. I take my guilt with me, for God to deal with in His own good time. Your impotence to see me punished I shall leave with you. This is not the best time to sail across the Atlantic, but I have decided that we will go now because I wish to be far from the scene of my wrongdoing as soon as possible. I do know it for what it is. I am not prepared to stand before a human judge and answer for it. I shall face the judgement of God soon enough, and I fear it. I bid you good day, Mister Blakiston.’

  And he walked from the room, untouchable. In his fury, Blakiston picked up a cup and hurled it at the wall, but no-one came to see what was causing the noise. When he felt calm enough at least to conceal his rage, he walked through the building and out of the door he had entered by. One of King’s men was holding Obsidian. Blakiston took the reins from him without a word, leapt into the saddle and turned towards the road. He glanced for a moment at the footman. He could swear that the man’s face bore the same hidden amusement as his master’s.

  Chapter 29

  It fell to Kate to try to rouse her husband from his despair. ‘My love. Job King has done wrong…’

  ‘He has killed!’

  ‘Yes, he has killed. He has done wrong. And one day he will face God’s justice, and he knows it. We may be sure that he will be dealt with to the last degree of his sinfulness.’

  ‘That is as may be, but my concern is with Man’s justice, not God’s, and that he will not face.’

  ‘My love. Forgive me. But you are from a class that expects Man’s justice to be done and I am not. When Wrekin did what he did to my sister, he was not punished. Lizzie gained and I gained and Tom Laws gained, but nothing was done to Wrekin. He was too rich, too well born and too powerful.’

  ‘And do you think, Kate, that that is God’s will?’

  ‘I cannot see that it can be otherwise, for if it were not God’s will, then how would He allow it to happen?’

  Blakiston glowered. ‘I should have been able to take him before the Assize. He should stand trial for what he has done.’

  ‘And he will not. When he was Job King the pauper, he would have gone on trial.’

  ‘He would have hung!’

  ‘But now he is Job King the rich man, and unless he offends against someone even richer, he cannot be touched. That is the way of this world. And God must want it, or God would not permit it.’

  ‘Really, Kate, I don’t know what I should do if I did not have you here with me.’

  ‘And that, my love, is why God allowed us to come together, separated by class and the ways of man though we were.‘

  Bit by bit, Blakiston allowed himself to think of other things. He reported to Lord Ravenshead on what he could learn about the estate Job King was vacating, and Ravenshead employed an agent to buy it on behalf of Wrekin. Job King left the neighbourhood and then the country with all his dependents. Jeffrey Drabble and Dick Jackson wondered what kind of lives they might have led had they had the courage to go to the colonies as King had done. Susannah Ward married Jemmy Rayne, Rayne sold everything he had, and they embarked on the same vessel as Job King. The last thing Susannah said to Kate was, ‘The captain has warned us that the weather will be bad and the crossing rough. But we don’t have enough money to support ourselves here until the spring and still buy a passage to the colonies and keep us there until Jemmy is established. And, because of the weather, passage is cheaper now than it will be in spring.’

  Three weeks later, Blakiston returned home much earlier than was normal on a working day and placed a newspaper in front of Kate without saying a word. His finger pointed to an article headed, “Disaster at Sea.” Kate read it. Then, tears clouding her eyes, she read it again.

  She looked up at Blakiston. ‘No-one was saved.’

  ‘It seems not.’

  ‘Poor Susannah. And Jemmy – he was Tom’s cousin. And Ann Forman with her bairn.’

  ‘And Job King.’

  Kate pushed the paper away from her. ‘And Job King. It seems he has faced God’s justice sooner than he expected.’

  If Blakiston had given vent to his feelings, he would have asked whether Kate thought the balance was equal. To bring Job King to stand – as Kate saw it, and Blakiston as surely did not – before an almighty God to face justice for what he had done, so many innocents with all their hopes for the future had lost their lives. Was that the way Kate thought her God operated? But he did not say a word of this, because Kate would have found it hurtful and the one constant in Blakiston’s life was a determination to do nothing to hurt the woman he loved.

  And yet, it seemed that Kate knew what was in his mind, because she said, ‘Only God knows who is truly innocent. And all those people came from the poor of this parish and not the well off. We can be certain that the life they have now in heaven is better than anything they left behind.’

  Blakiston sat down. He took both of Kate’s hands in h
is. He turned one of her hands over, kissed it, and then closed the fingers on the kiss. ‘There,’ he whispered. ‘Now you have a kiss with you, whenever you want it.’

  Kate laughed. ‘There is a sentence I have heard from the Rector at funerals. “In the midst of death, we are in life.” Or, at least, that is how I think it goes – I may not be remembering it quite right.’

  ‘And why do you mention this now, my dear?’

  ‘Because all of these people are dead. And here, in this parish and in this house, something that should have happened has not happened.’

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘Only if you would prefer not to be a father. I am with child. I believe it will be born in the height of summer. It will be a child of the summer and a child of joy.’

  Entirely lost for words, Blakiston wrapped his arms around his wife and hugged her close to him. ‘A child of joy indeed.’ Was he, a man who put justice and honesty before all, prepared to accept that the price of joy must sometimes be injustice?

  What choice did he have?

  From The Author

  I hope you enjoyed this book. In case you are not aware, let me say that it is the second book in the James Blakiston Series and the first was A Just and Upright Man, which you can find here for Kindle. Book 3 in the series is due to be published in July 2019.

  I write historical fiction in the name of RJ Lynch (my initials reversed) and I write contemporary fiction in the name of John Lynch. You might like these:

  The Making of Billy McErlane. It isn’t the cards you’re dealt that count, but how you play the hand. Originally called Zappa’s Mam’s a Slapper, this is the story of a young man born into the family from hell who makes a success of his life against all the odds.

 

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