“She grabbed my wrist.”
“Let me see.” Alice examined it closely. “Good, no mark.” She smiled at both girls. “I’ll be resting in my room if you need me.” She turned as though to walk away and then stopped. “Lavinia, I think it would be best if you stay here tonight as my guest. I’ll inform Lady Eleanor and send a message to your mother,” and before either girl could respond, she crossed the garden rather quickly and entered the main building.
Dorothy clapped her hands with glee but Lavinia’s thoughts were in a whirl. The inference made by Mistress Craddock had been clear enough, but how much reliance, if any, could be placed upon it? Might it not have been made simply out of spite? And then there was the possibility that, in her place of concealment behind the bush, the hag had overheard their conversation and based the assertion upon it. Moreover, why was Alice Nash, a woman she, Lavinia, hardly knew, behaving in what was arguably a mysterious manner?
Just then, Richard and Nicholas entered the abbey via the great front gate. Both looked sullen and thoughtful, and it did not need much prompting to extract the reason why. They gave full accounts of their confrontations with Thomas Metcalf and Fanny Craddock, the ‘swimming’ of Nancy Redfern, and the subsequent ducking of Horace Twissleton.
“The horrible man,” said Dorothy, taking her husband’s hand. “You acted most properly, Nicholas, and you too, Richard,” but the latter was only half-listening.
Richard had discerned a change in Lavinia’s countenance. It was in her eyes. For the present, he would abstain from making inquiries until the Ball, where hopefully during the dancing, he would be able to speak to her privately.
Lavinia was aware that he was staring at her. She tried to deflect his gaze by asking, “How’s Nancy?”
“She will recover. It’s the repercussions I fear. That Twissleton fellow is an imbecile.”
“And what of Davy Ashmore?” prompted Dorothy. “Was he punished for complicity?”
“Hush,” exclaimed Richard quickly, glancing at Lavinia lest she should be offended. But to his surprise, Dorothy waved a hand dismissively.
“You may speak freely, Richard. I doubt it will hurt her feelings.”
Richard stared at his sister in astonishment. Either she was being extraordinarily callous, which in itself was contrary to her nature, or something had happened whilst he’d been away from the abbey.
“What do you mean?” he asked cautiously.
“Oh, nothing,” she said airily.
Richard looked from one to the other. It could not have been clearer that they were keeping a secret. “Perhaps you will explain,” he said to Lavinia, curiosity now getting the better of him.
“I cannot,” she answered truthfully, and was grateful when Nicholas changed the subject.
“You would have laughed when Twissleton climbed out of the river. I swear, he looked like a fat drowned rat. Would you believe the impudent knave had the temerity to imply there was a witch in the family. Such is his lust for power that I believe him capable of laying a charge against anyone.”
“This does not bode well,” said Dorothy. “After what has occurred, will he still investigate the claim tomorrow?”
“Of course he will,” said Nicholas confidently. “He’ll be the centre of attention, and if earlier events are any guide, it’s a moment of glory he won’t relinquish.”
“Which raises an interesting point,” said Richard thoughtfully. “Can we be sure of an unbiased adjudication? If not, then the investigation should be postponed until another expert can be secured.”
“An excellent deduction, Dick, and one which has already occurred to me. Now, Twissleton might be many things, but the one thing he is not, as he categorically proved today, is a wizard. So, unless he finds some way of tampering with the original map showing the division of land, then he’ll unquestionably dismiss Metcalf’s claim. All of you, come with me to the library and I’ll show you what I mean.”
Lady Eleanor, closely followed by two yapping long-eared spaniels, was descending a flight of stairs when they entered the main residence. “Ah, there you are,” she said to Dorothy. “You have been absent a long time.”
“We went for a walk by the river.”
“The abbey and the grounds are very beautiful,” said Lavinia. “Thank you, Lady Eleanor, for allowing me access.”
“You speak as though you have never been here.”
“I have never been inside until today.” Lavinia looked embarrassed as she explained, “My mother is very superstitious and forbade me to enter, not that I ever had cause to do so,” and for the first time in her life, the word ‘mother’ sounded oddly on her lips.
“Indeed,” said Lady Eleanor in surprise. “Well, no matter. Mistress Alice has asked that you stay with her after the Ball. I have no objections.” She scrutinised Lavinia’s figure. “I think I might have some garments and accessories that will fit you. I’ll send them along presently.”
Lavinia dropped a deep curtsey as her ladyship walked away. Dorothy however, giggled. She cast a playful glance at her brother and then whispered in Lavinia’s ear, “She has some spectacular outfits, and you’ll look even more beautiful than you did this morning. Not that your appearance is any disgrace at the moment,” she added quickly, perchance she had given offence, “but it is a little rumpled and there are grass stains at the hem.”
Nicholas led the way to the library, which had once been a cluster of six cells. Now lined with oak panelling and tall mullion windows, it was decorated with woodcarvings and tapestries of hunting scenes, and one wall was dedicated to an enormous collection of books and parchments.
Lavinia sat on a cushion in an embrasured window. The river was tinged with rays of the setting sun, and the countryside was a picture of peace and tranquillity. Yet such was the turmoil of her thoughts that she could not appreciate the beauty.
The view also failed to interest Richard, for he saw that Lavinia had tears in her eyes. “Why so sad?” he asked softly.
Lavinia told the literal truth. “Today has been the happiest day of my life.” She wiped her eyes and tried to smile. “I’m just being foolish.”
“On the contrary, your tears reflect your tender heart. But, if you’ll pardon my forwardness, I think they stem from another cause. May I know what it is?”
“Not at present,” interposed Dorothy, seating herself beside Lavinia. “Certain details need to be verified.”
“Then I will guess,” said Richard. “You can please yourself as to acknowledgement. I fancy Lavinia has made a discovery regarding her parentage.”
Dorothy gaped at him. “How did you know? Did that old witch, Mistress Craddock, tell you?”
Richard laughed and kissed her cheek. “Only a witch named Dorothy. Besides, you only have to compare her to Davy Ashmore. They look nothing alike.”
Dorothy sighed. She had gone too far to retreat now. “The inference was made to the effect that Lavinia is not the daughter of Elizabeth Ashmore. But please, you must not say anything. Aunt Alice swore us to secrecy.”
“Alice? What’s she to do with it?”
“She arrived just as Mistress Craddock made her accusation.” Dorothy crossed her fingers. She was about to tell a little white lie. “While Aunt Alice did not refer to it afterwards, I had the impression that she too knows something.” She put an arm around Lavinia’s shoulders. “I cannot begin to imagine your feelings, especially in light of what you told me earlier, but if it is true, then just think of the benefits.” Dorothy looked at her brother defiantly. “And no, I will not explain what I mean. Lavinia knows and that’s all that matters.”
Just then, Nicholas called from the other side of the room. Two large parchments were spread across a table. He pointed to the one on the left. “This is the original map showing Aunt Alice’s property and the boundaries, and the other is a copy of Metcalf’s so-called survey.”
Dorothy tried to decipher the myriad of dots and lines. She had never seen such an intricate drawing.
“I’m glad you can understand it.”
“Cartography is a wonderful science,” said Nicholas. “One day there will be maps showing every corner of the globe, and in far greater detail than these.”
Dorothy ran a finger down the first map. “So, all this is Aunt Alice’s property? Goodness but there’s a lot of it.”
“Yes and no. Her land can be measured in miles but she doesn’t own all of it. Even though Thornley Forest is physically on her property, it’s not hers. Henry VIII annexed it about a hundred years ago, though God knows why because he never came here. Most of the forest is Crown land, and Roger, as part of his obligations to his office, is responsible for its administration.”
“Ah, hence why your father persuaded him to become involved.”
“Precisely. My father has known Roger for many years, and for Alice’s sake, wanted to avoid protracted and messy legal proceedings. Roger’s involvement is wise. Metcalf is such a disagreeable fellow that he does not instil trust. Of course, if something seriously went amiss with the forest, such as a devastating fire, Roger would report it to the Earl of Leeds, who is the ultimate authority in the area.”
“I see,” said Dorothy, trying to grasp the political intricacies.
“Alice’s estate is so vast,” said Richard to Lavinia, “that her far left boundary very nearly touches my right boundary at Foxbury Chase. If you imagine a rectangle with a large hole in the bottom right corner, the hole representing the forest, then that is roughly the shape of her estate.”
Lavinia contrived a mental map. “So, the bulk of her land is beyond the forest and to the left. Is that correct?”
“Correct,” said Nicholas brightly. “Roger conducts periodic inspections, but in the interim, the forest and the Crown land surrounding it, not that there’s much, are in the hands of woodsmen and overseers.”
“If you don’t mind me saying so, it sounds like too many people in charge of a very small area.”
If he could of, Richard would have kissed her cheek. Instead, he grinned at her and said, “How very perceptive of you, Lavinia.”
“Now, look at this…” But before Nicholas could elucidate, the door opened and three men entered – his father, Roger Knowles, and Horace Twissleton.
Chapter Seven
Late Afternoon
Though Twissleton bowed to the assembled company, his first remark was aimed at Nicholas. “I can tell from your expression that you did not expect to see me so soon. I am pleased to report that a pottle of hot cider has restored my circulation.”
“So I see,” replied Nicholas. If the land dispute had not been of such importance, he wouldn’t have cared if the little man had contracted influenza.
“And yet in spite of my restored constitution, there is an account of assault to be settled.”
“You should be speaking to Nancy about it, not me. After all, she was the victim.”
“Nancy? Victim?” Twissleton seemed to inflate with indignation. “My dear sir, there is only one victim here and that’s me. If you think I’m paying that whore anything then you’re sadly mistaken. My claim of assault, sir, is against you!”
“Oh, really?” said Nicholas coldly. “Well, if you insist on satisfaction, we will settle it in the time-honoured manner.” He tapped the hilt of his sword. “And as you proclaim yourself to be the injured party, you may choose the time and location. Whenever you please, I’m not fussed.”
Twissleton seemed to shrivel as quickly as he’d inflated. “No, not that way!” He stepped backwards. “I never fight with weapons. Our dispute must be settled in a court of law, sir, a court of law.”
Nicholas laughed. He had gambled on the solicitor’s cowardice, not that there had been much risk of loss. “There is a maxim that runs, ‘he who is his own lawyer has a fool for a client’.”
“No maxim will change the facts,” said Twissleton defiantly. “I have a clear case of assault against you, perhaps even attempted murder.”
“Murder?” repeated Nicholas, his temper rising. “And what of your attempted murder of Nancy Redfern, or does her innocence count for nothing!”
The two men glared at each other as Sir Howarth asked, “Nicholas, did you throw Master Twissleton into the river?”
“I did.”
“And were there witnesses?”
“Hundreds, but after his appalling treatment of Nancy, I doubt anyone will speak for him.”
“It seems to me,” said Roger, looking at the solicitor dubiously, “that there are more details to the event than you supplied.”
“Sir,” said Twissleton in an injured tone, “are you suggesting that in recounting the event to you, I fabricated the facts?”
“Of course not, but there is another maxim that runs, ‘there are two sides to every coin’, and it would be unfair, not to say remiss of me in my capacity as magistrate, not to hear Nicholas’s side of the story.”
Twissleton considered for a moment. “No provocation can justify the treatment I received. However, to show that I harbour no resentment, I am willing to forgo legal action provided…”
“…provided Nicholas offers you a handsome consideration?” suggested Richard sarcastically.
“Provided he offer me a handsome apology,” rejoined Twissleton, resenting the interruption. “And delivered in the same manner as my humiliation - in public.”
Nicholas grasped his sword in earnest. “You go too far, sir.”
“Calm down, Nicholas,” said Roger. “Whilst I agree the Master Twissleton was acting within the law, his zealousness and haste are grounds for provocation. I suggest you shake hands and have done with it.”
Sir Howarth looked meaningfully at his son. “Which he will not refuse,” he said with parental authority.
“Then I am satisfied,” said Twissleton, holding out a hand. Nicholas grasped it so tightly that it brought tears to the little man's eyes.
“Good,” said Roger, who was beginning to regret engaging Twissleton as an arbiter. Whilst he could not stop the solicitor from pursuing the law, he thought it prudent to issue a cautionary note. “I suggest in the interests of harmony, that you should forego any search for witches until the boundary matter is settled.”
Twissleton could not have looked more shocked if he’d been ordered to fight a duel. “Sir, are you suggesting that I abandon my office? That I relinquish a duty that is incumbent on all good and loyal citizens? As a magistrate, you of all people should know…” but Roger had had enough.
“You were brought here for a specific purpose, and it was not to catch witches. Now, either fulfil that purpose or you can leave.” Roger was a fair and just magistrate. Even so, he could not resist adding, “And without pay.”
There was a tense silence in which Nicholas looked from one man to the other. Twissleton - ambitious and with little power but which he wielded to the nth degree. Roger - fine and stately, respected and favoured, and with a great deal of authority. He was everything the solicitor was not. The discussion had settled one point at least, namely, that Roger was not complicit in Twissleton’s desire to catch witches. This was seemingly confirmed when the solicitor next spoke, albeit with bad grace.
“Naturally I will obey your commands, even if it is at the cost of my reputation.”
“Reputation? You dare speak of your reputation after what you did today?” Roger was furious. He made to step forward but Sir Howarth restrained him.
“Gentlemen, we have just settled one dispute, pray do not instigate another.”
“Master Knowles,” said Nicholas, taking the lead from his father, “we were examining the maps as you entered. There certainly seems to be a discrepancy.”
Just then, the door opened and Alice Nash entered. She seemed more disappointed than surprised to see so many people present. “Oh, I do beg your pardon. I did not mean to interrupt.”
Nicholas took her hand and led her to the table. “We were just talking about you.” He pointed to the disputed territory on her map. “There’s the stream, t
he two fields, and the line of stones. From memory, they’re set about a hundred yards apart. Now, look at Metcalf’s map. He claims that the stream is on the other side of the stones, thus giving him about 100 acres more property.”
Alice snorted. “And how much ale had his surveyor consumed before he drew the map?”
“I must admit that my knowledge of that area is rusty,” said Roger. “I have not been up that way in some considerable time. Is it possible that the stream, through damming or natural phenomena, has divided and formed two seemingly separate streams?”
“There is only one stream,” said Alice brusquely. “At least, there was when I left the manor three days ago. I concede that a heavy downpour might form a rivulet, but not to the extent Metcalf is claiming.”
Roger leaned over the desk. It was the first time he’d seen the maps side-by-side. “This area here, it’s a limestone quarry is it not?”
“Yes,” said Alice, “and very profitable too.”
Roger traced the disputed boundary with a finger. “Metcalf’s line runs clear through the middle of it.”
“Which is totally absurd. The manor and the quarry were in my late husband’s possession long before Metcalf came along.”
“Somebody has made a considerable mistake,” said Twissleton, fearful that the dispute might be settled there & then. He looked at Alice significantly. “Perhaps the fault lies with your late husband, perchance even earlier.”
Alice stood up abruptly, her mouth little more than a thin white line. “Master Twissleton, I did not come here to be insulted, nor to hear the memory of my husband desecrated in such a tawdry fashion. Lavinia, please come with me. I wish to speak to you alone.”
Twissleton bowed as they exited the room, though there was little respect in the gesture. He returned to studying the maps again, though in truth, his mind was focused in another direction.
The Sisterhood:: Curse of Abbot Hewitt Page 8