To my astonishment she put out her hand as if to stroke my face. Reassurance? Or something else? I leapt back as if she had threatened me with a white-hot brand.
Edmund stepped briskly forward. Joseph was soon in his capable arms, and he shot a series of questions at Sarey, none of which made sense to me but which she answered to his satisfaction. At last he asked, ‘Did you walk here, Mrs Tump? Let my wife and I set you back on the road to Clavercote. Have you ever ridden in a gig, young man? No, I thought not. You will have to lie quiet and still in your mama’s lap …’
‘Another sickbed, Tobias?’ my father drawled, as he set out the chess pieces.
‘News of one,’ I said, refusing to rise to the bait. ‘And there will be more, I fear. This winter has been very harsh and the late spring means crops have been slow. I anticipate even more losses before summer arrives. Starting with that pawn,’ I concluded, as my father embarked on his habitual slaughter.
No matter how hard I tried to concentrate, nor how hard I tried to engage him in conversation that could enrage neither of us, the next hour was a disaster.
I think we were both glad when he finally administered the coup de grâce.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
‘You put yourself in grave danger there, Tobias, I have to tell you.’
Edmund had summoned me to the privacy of his study, and amazingly kept me standing before his desk, before he recollected himself and settled us down in the deep armchairs either side of the now empty fireplace.
‘Danger?’
‘With Sarey.’
‘Sarey? I have cut my eye teeth, Edmund!’
‘You may think so. Toby, you are a handsome young man, you know, and it will not do for you to be seen alone with a young woman, even a parishioner, in public. Think of the poor child who killed herself and her illegitimate babe. No one knows who the father was. That village is a sewer of gossip: what if the conclusion is that the father is you? Think, man – the men of the village already loathe you enough to want to hang you – how much happier will they be if you are seen tête-à-tête with another young woman? Your reputation! Your very life! You must and shall be accompanied by a respectable woman next time you go to Clavercote, or who will be answerable for the consequences? Not I!’ He flung his hands wide in exasperation. ‘We need to find you a wife, my friend.’
For a moment I sparked up. ‘I would never marry simply to provide myself with a chaperone – only for love.’ Then I saw the funny side. ‘In fact, Edmund, my mother is already hunting a suitable bride. What did she say I needed? An heiress? Yes – provided that she would not mind giving up her life in the ton and her ten thousand a year so that her new husband might feed the poor. Mama said I must have a lady light on her feet, but equally quick-witted, if slow to anger. A great reader: but though the lady loved books, she would rarely sit in my library, since she must constantly devote herself to good works amongst my flock.’
He joined in with glee. ‘A lady with musical accomplishments? So that she might join us round the fortepiano?’
‘She might bring her own harp,’ I suggested. ‘But she would have very little time to practise because she would be too busy learning to play the church organ.’
He threw his head back and laughed. The lecture was well and truly over. ‘Between us, your mama and I have things pretty well worked out. Tobias, I have never asked you before, lest it chafed old wounds – but do you have a lady in mind? Or better still, in your heart?’
‘There is a young lady to whom I found myself much attracted when I was staying with one of my mother’s bosom bows. Lady Julia Pendragon.’ It felt very strange to say her name aloud. ‘We were friends as children, forever getting into scrapes together. She is still unwed – some would say on the shelf – and the evening we spent in each other’s company was very pleasant. I have no doubt that had I lingered longer, we would have many equally enjoyable conversations. But since then …’ I spread my hands.
There was a gentle tap at the door. Hansard leapt from his chair to open it, to be rewarded by Maria’s smile. ‘Have you finished giving him his bear-garden jaw, husband? If so, shall we adjourn to the drawing room? Though it is so lovely in here this evening, so warm, that it is tempting to stay a while.’ She sat in the seat Edmund had vacated.
‘There is one thing you may not have heard – something Sarey offered me.’
Maria stared. ‘She offered you, Tobias? What can a woman of her means – oh, no. Dear me, no!’
‘Yes, she has something. Her body. She appeared to think Mrs Trent’s largesse came from me and that I would require payment – carnally. I assured her I did not, but I think she tried to stroke my face. Thank goodness Edmund was at hand. But the deeper implication worries me more. Where in God’s name did she get the idea that a clergyman expects sexual favours? A clergyman, my dear friends!’
Edmund’s face became as sombre as when he had to admit he could not save a patient. ‘When I diagnose an illness, Toby, I put together all the symptoms that I can see. Let us take the same approach here. Firstly, let us cast our minds back to events in Clavercote. Would you say that you have felt – how shall I put it? – a little unwelcome in the village?’ He paused as Maria and I laughed dryly. ‘There is a good deal of reluctance from the very start when the archdeacon tells them that you are to take the Easter services there. They obey eventually. They banish two perfectly decent curates – at least, I assume that they were – and make efforts to deter you each time you return.’
Maria walked to the window, closing it as she gave a sudden shiver. ‘The body was found on Easter Day. Do you think that is significant? Was it meant to be found then?’
‘In general local people do not frequent Wychbold’s estate,’ I said, ‘so I would think that unlikely.’
Edmund nodded. ‘True. Nonetheless, my inference – one I would much rather not make – is that in view of the way he was nailed to the tree the victim of that terrible killing was one of your colleagues.
‘But he is abroad for his health! The archdeacon told Tobias he was.’
‘Perhaps that was what the archdeacon believes, my love. Perhaps Coates thought that Clavercote had had enough of him and it politic to leave for a while. Yes, this is pure speculation, but I shall be decidedly relieved if Lord Hartland can report conclusively that Mr Coates is having a wonderful time in Baden.’
Maria bit her lip. ‘The sketches … the recreations … of the poor corpse’s face … Do you recall that in one of them I added a stock? You locked it in this drawer, Husband.’
Edmund met my eye. ‘As you can imagine, the only thing I ever lock in this house is my medical room: I do not want my records of patients’ ailments and treatments or, of course, the medicines I use to go astray. Why I thought it necessary to protect these sketches I am not quite sure.’
‘The little spate of housebreaking, Edmund,’ Maria prompted him. ‘And your fears that the artist might be identified.’
‘Of course. Well, here they are. If only we knew what Mr Coates looked like. Was – is! – he the sort of man to have a portrait taken for his own pleasure? Is there one in his rectory, Tobias?’
‘I have never once set foot within its walls, remember.’
‘Of course. And now the place is locked up. We would need the express authority of a magistrate to break into it. I suppose Hasbury might grant it though his legal duties do not appear to ride high in his priorities.’
‘I wonder if those two delightful churchwardens have a key, or know who would have one. It might be hard to convince them.’
‘Especially,’ Maria said dryly, ‘if they are aware of what we suspect may have happened. Or they might be genuinely nervous of retribution.’
Edmund raised his hand. ‘All this is speculation. Let us wait a few days for your father’s missives to bear fruit, Tobias. Now, before we adjourn for supper I want your solemn word that on no circumstances will you venture to Clavercote alone. No circumstances at all. If there is any bas
is for our theory, then it would not be impossible for you to be sent for on a false mission of mercy, one that will simply lure you to your death.’
‘Very well.’
‘That, Tobias, is not an oath. As your friend and as your medical adviser, I require one.’
Half-reluctant, half-relieved, I gave him my word. ‘But what about when poor Ethan and his friend die? I must conduct their obsequies.’
‘We must in that case ensure that you are protected. Even if it means summoning the militia,’ he added, intending, perhaps, a jest.
I actually felt the blood drain from my face. I was sure my friends noticed. However, before they could question me, there came an urgent interruption.
‘Beg pardon, sir, but Mr Jem needs you!’ Burns gasped, bolting the moment he had delivered his message.
All three of us followed him through the house to the kitchen garden. By chance, Jem was in the same sheltered spot where Ethan Downs had rested. Looking almost exasperated, Edmund halted, hands on hips.
‘A dog! Jem, I know nothing of dogs!’ But he squatted beside them both, stroking Cribb’s head.
‘I’m sure he’s picked up some poison,’ Jem said. ‘Surely you can make him sick?’
‘I have an emetic I use for humans – but it may just cause him more suffering, Jem. A gun might be kinder.’
‘For an old dog, yes. But Cribb’s hardly more than a pup. He’s strong. And if … then I will use the gun.’
Maria, who had knelt beside Jem, took his hand and looked up at me. ‘Does God listen to prayers for animals, Toby?’
Joining them on my knees, I said firmly, ‘He certainly listens to those for their owners. So I suggest we pray for Jem, and also for Edmund, as he chooses the medicine Cribb needs …’
Whether it was the Hand of God or mere coincidence I do not know, but within the quarter-hour Toone’s curricle swept into the yard. Any doubts I had about his personality and his dedication to healing were swept aside as he flung off his many-caped cloak and joined his colleague with Cribb. He waved Maria and me aside, urging us to take ourselves inside out of the way. I believe that he would have preferred Jem himself to withdraw, but a look at his suffering face would have stopped anyone trying to persuade him.
Burns had already taken it upon himself, as he told Maria when she rang for him, to tell Cook to put back dinner indefinitely, and to be prepared to change the number of covers she prepared for. He laid a tray of biscuits beside her, and served us both sherry. He withdrew, promising to apprise us of any development.
‘Tobias, may I ask you why, when Edmund spoke of your needing a guard if you took a funeral in the village, you went so pale? I have noticed it before. If it is something you would rather not explain to me, perhaps it would help to tell Edmund.’
I could have blustered that I was merely tired after a difficult day, but it was easier to tell the simple truth. ‘It is nothing to do with conducting a funeral, Maria. It is the notion of bringing armed men against unarmed people. When I was young, my father had me destined for a military career.’
‘You, Tobias!’
‘A poor soldier I would have made, indeed.’ I managed the ghost of a smile. ‘But that was his dream. I think he was all too aware of the pointlessness of his own existence. So he took me along with him to see the militia deal with a riot in Sheffield – to make a man of me by making me watch armed men slaughter their sick and hungry brethren. Any thoughts I might have had were killed as instantly as a child who ran across the street at the wrong moment. Perhaps he would have forgiven me for declining a military career, but I went further, and turned to the Church. The day I told him that I was to be ordained, he kicked me down the stairs.’
‘And now you are playing chess with him?’
‘He is a lonely sick man. Hasbury’s other guests are far too busy indulging themselves to give him any of their valuable time. Sad to say, though they are a worthless bunch, ritual murder is hardly the sort of pastime you associate with sexual promiscuity and gambling, which seem to be the chief items on Hasbury’s menu du jour.’
‘Have you forgiven your father? At least you seem sorry for him,’ she prompted.
‘Indeed, I am trying to see him as a man with the misfortune to be ill who has had a big disappointment in his life. But if I am a disappointment to him, how much greater a disappointment must he be to my mother? How can she love him? They are never together – his life is that of a fribble, hers – she might as well be a widow.’
‘They are of an age, are they not, to have been contracted into a dynastic marriage almost without being consulted. They produced their heir, a spare and a spare spare, and then – how many sisters do you have? Two? They have done as well as many people expect. Sometimes it is better to go your separate ways than spend your lives tormenting each other – at least that is my judgement, based on all the discord and pretence and hypocrisy I saw before I married Edmund.’ He preferred her to use that euphemism for being a housekeeper in the homes of people of rank, and it seemed to have become a happy habit.
‘My mother appears still to love him – it always brings tears to her eyes when she refers to our final quarrel. Or perhaps it will turn out to be our penultimate quarrel – though I have no stomach for another fight yet. He can resume his old ways, riding roughshod over me until, from time to time, I simply dig my heels in and we have another battle.’ I laughed dryly. ‘My current tactics are less confrontational but more stubborn – my silent insistence on wearing attire suited to my calling, for instance.’
‘Which hitherto I have to say you have honoured more in the breach than the observance. And I also have to say that that round hat truly does not suit you. A man may surely be both a man of God and a gentleman in appearance? I dare swear that when you first helped Dan, you were dressed much more like your father’s son than a poor priest, yet the deed was just as virtuous.’
‘I am tempted to agree – but does it not mark me out in the eyes of the poor as not being one of them?’
‘You are not one of them, Tobias: you are fortunate enough to have a roof over your head and food on your table. But instinctively everyone recognises your good intent—’
‘—and may, of course, try to exploit it,’ I concluded for her, to spare myself a continuation of the earlier lecture. ‘I hear voices, Maria – I pray that Cribb lives!’
Leaving Toone and Hansard deep in dinner-table discussion about the difficulties of treating a dog with human medicines, I took myself off to join Jem in the stables, where he was watching the sleeping Cribb as if he were a baby. Jem had claimed he had no appetite, but when Burns appeared bearing a tray on which were balanced tankards of ale, a pile of chicken patties and a fat slice of leek and bacon pie, he was obviously tempted. Burns also produced a hot towel soaked in Hansard’s beloved lavender water, which he presented to Jem as if there were to be no argument.
‘In case of poison lingering on your hands, Jem.’ His work done, Burns settled himself beside us, stretching long legs in front of him and putting his hands behind his head in a manner I was sure the servants’ hall never witnessed. He only moved to reach for his tankard, as the three of us talked about rumours of a new bowler playing for Moreton-sub-Edge. Apparently he was proving devastatingly successful, and Burns was eager to learn the secret of his success.
But the idle chatter did not entirely calm Jem. He started every time Cribb stirred, feeling him again and again to make sure he was still alive. Each time, Burns proffered the towel, increasingly to Jem’s irritation.
‘If you take the same poison as Cribb,’ Burns demanded, ‘who will be blamed? Not you. Not Dr Campion. Me. Look,’ he continued, accepting the towel back and hanging it tidily over a rail, ‘I get to hear all these conversations, begging your pardon, Dr Campion—’
‘Toby, if you please,’ I said, draining my tankard.
‘All these conversations about who might have done what, so it’s almost second nature for me to wonder about things too. And what
I am wondering now, Jem, is who might have tried to kill your dog, there – a harmless enough mutt, nothing special, I’d say. Has he been rabbiting where he shouldn’t? Or disturbing coverts? Or have you given the cane to the son of someone who didn’t like his lad being punished? Or is it something to do with all the other goings on, those that Mr and Mrs Hansard and their guests are worrying about? Trying to kill … Toby … here, for instance – you two being friends, of course.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The arrival of Toone and Edmund in the stable forestalled any speculation. Burns suddenly recalled that he had other, much more formal duties, and, seeing that the doctors were about to examine the dog, I allowed myself to drift away, bidding Maria goodnight before adjourning to my bedchamber, where I intended to spend a great deal of time in prayer. However, my flesh was as weak as that of others before me, and before I knew anything I was being awoken by Binns with my shaving water.
‘The dog lives, sir, and my master, having watched with Jem for much of the night, sleeps. So I am here to offer my services. I understand that there is a summons to Orebury House, though in what connection I could not say. Your formal wear, sir, or your – er – canonicals?’
‘A stock, but not my bands.’
‘An excellent compromise, if I might make so bold. And the more recent coat?’
‘The one that makes me look like a country lawyer? Why not?’
My visit to my father brought yet another defeat on the chessboard, though I fought a rearguard action that delayed the inevitable for half an hour longer than the previous debacle. My father celebrated his victory by taking a stroll with Hansard on the terrace. Since the peacocks were in full voice it cannot have been altogether pleasant.
Cheating the Hangman Page 18