10
“Keep me company while I eat.” Reiko invited the maid at the Hosokawa estate.
The maid eagerly scrambled closer. “Thank you, mistress.”
“I sensed that Lady Hosokawa and Tama aren’t on very good terms,” Reiko hinted.
That was all it took to open the floodgates. “They hate each other,” the maid said with relish. “When Lord Hosokawa brought Tama in as his concubine, Lady Hosokawa was so jealous. He gave Tama her own servants and her own rooms. When he’s here, he spends his nights with her. He only went to Lady Hosokawa’s bed to get children. After he had enough, he stopped going.”
A daimyo needed one legitimate son to be his heir, others in case the first didn’t survive, and daughters to use as political pawns in the marriage market, Reiko knew.
“Tama put on airs. She acted as if she were the lady of the house.” The maid grimaced in distaste. “Lady Hosokawa was furious. But Lord Hosokawa made her be nice to Tama.”
It was a story Reiko had heard often. How cruel the custom of taking concubines could be to wives! Again, Reiko felt lucky to be married to Sano.
“Lady Hosokawa got back at Tama,” the maid said gleefully. “She put mouse dung and dead flies in Tama’s food. Tama got sick and didn’t know why.”
Another spell of queasiness lapped at Reiko as she thought of the poisoned incense. Had Lady Hosokawa done worse than contaminate food to make her rival sick? Reiko drank more tea, combating the nausea that came with her knowledge that there were even better suspects than Lady Hosokawa within the clan.
“How did Myobu and Kumoi get along?” Reiko asked, duty-bound to bring Sano the truth even if it wasn’t what he liked to hear.
The maid shook her head regretfully. “They were the sweetest little babies, and I loved them both. But the rivalry between Lady Hosokawa and Tama increased after they were born. Myobu had nicer clothes and more toys than Kumoi. She had teachers to teach her how to read and write and arrange flowers and play the koto and sing. Kumoi didn’t. Because Myobu was Lord Hosokawa’s legitimate daughter.”
Whereas Kumoi was only his bastard, even though he’d recognized her as his own and professed to Sano that he’d loved her. The custom was cruel to children, too.
“It didn’t help that Kumoi was prettier than Myobu,” the maid went on. “Myobu was jealous. Their mothers were always comparing them. Kumoi was their father’s favorite. They were born to hate each other. They fought all the time.”
Had their hatred been great enough for one to have poisoned the other and, by accident, herself? Reiko’s suspicion tended even more strongly toward the Hosokawa family.
“Things got even worse when they grew up,” the maid said. “Myobu was the elder, so Lord Hosokawa looked to marry her off first. She got a proposal from the daimyo clan that has the estate across the street. They’re allies of Lord Hosokawa. The daimyo ’s second son needed a wife. He was young and handsome and rich. A perfect match for Myobu.
“The trouble started at the miai.” That was the first formal meeting between a prospective bride and groom and their families. “Kumoi was there. The young lord couldn’t take his eyes off her. He barely looked at Myobu. And Kumoi couldn’t take her eyes off him. They fell in love.”
That was trouble indeed. “Did the marriage go through?” Reiko asked.
“Oh, yes. Both families wanted it. And Myobu liked the young lord.”
There was a sound of small feet padding down the hall. The maid looked toward the door and smiled. Reiko turned to see a toddler with fat, rosy cheeks. The maid held out her arms. He ran to her, and she sat him on her lap. He sucked his thumb while he soberly studied Reiko.
“This is Myobu’s son.” The maid’s eyes welled.
Pitying this child who’d lost his mother, Reiko said a quick, silent prayer for her own unborn baby. “What did Kumoi do after Myobu became engaged?”
“She accepted it. Or so we thought.” The maid peeked out the door and continued in a whisper: “A few months later-the day before the wedding-we found out that Kumoi was with child. The father was her sister’s fiance.”
Reiko’s mouth opened in shock.
“Kumoi confessed that she and the young lord had been secretly meeting. Oh, you should have heard the uproar! Lord Hosokawa scolded Kumoi. Lady Hosokawa called her a whore and blamed Tama for not raising her properly. Tama had a fit because Kumoi had ruined herself. Myobu cried because Kumoi had seduced her fiance. And Kumoi begged Lord Hosokawa to let her marry the young lord. She said he wanted her for his wife, not Myobu.”
“I never heard this,” Reiko said, amazed because something this big, involving two such important clans, should have created a scandal.
“It was hushed up,” the maid whispered. “The young lord’s parents forced him to marry Myobu, even though he didn’t want to. Lord Hosokawa sent Kumoi to the countryside to wait for her baby to be born.”
At least her family hadn’t disowned her, as often happened in cases when a woman became pregnant out of wedlock. Reiko said, “So Kumoi was allowed to come back home to live afterward.”
The maid nodded. “Tama couldn’t bear to be parted from her. And Lord Hosokawa loved her too much to cast her off.” She added, “Lady Hosokawa didn’t like it, though.”
Reiko could imagine. “Why didn’t they find a husband for Kumoi?” That was the common, practical solution.
“They tried. A lot of people want to marry into the Hosokawa clan. They didn’t know she was spoiled goods. And she was beautiful. She got lots of proposals. But whenever she had a miai, she acted rude and ugly. She chased all the men away. She didn’t want to marry anyone except the young lord.”
“But she knew she couldn’t have him.”
“Well, she did have him, in a way. She was his concubine. She lived with him and Myobu, in their house in town. He still loved her. He barely paid any attention to Myobu.”
“I see,” Reiko said. The contentious relationship between Lady Hosokawa and Tama had been reenacted by their daughters.
“Where is Myobu’s husband?” Reiko asked. Sano would want to talk to him.
“In Higo Province. He helps take care of things there while Lord Hosokawa is in Edo. He’d been there four months. A message was sent to tell him that Myobu and Kumoi were missing. I don’t know if it got through.” The maid blinked away fresh tears and hugged the little boy. “He’ll have to be told they’re dead.”
His absence cleared him of any role in the crime except furnishing a possible reason for it. Reiko remembered Sano telling her that the sisters had sneaked out of the Hosokawa estate to go to their fatal incense lesson. “What were Myobu and Kumoi doing here on the day of the earthquake? Why weren’t they at their own home?”
“They lived here when Myobu’s husband was away. They couldn’t be alone together-without him to keep them under control, they’d have torn out each other’s throats.”
“What became of Kumoi’s baby?” Reiko expected to hear that it had been given to a family retainer to raise.
“He’s right here.” The maid bounced the little boy on her lap. He chortled. “Myobu adopted him. She got back at Kumoi for taking her husband, you see. She became the baby’s mother. When he got older, he would have been told that Kumoi was his aunt.”
What a cruel revenge! Reiko was appalled.
“Myobu didn’t do it just to be mean, though,” the maid went on. “She couldn’t have a child of her own, because her husband never touched her after their wedding night.” He’d have had relations with her then, to consummate the marriage and make it legal. “He needed an heir, the boy was his, and she wanted a baby. Adopting the boy was the best thing for everybody.”
Reiko tried to imagine a rival stealing her child. She felt a stabbing sensation in her womb. She felt antipathy toward Myobu but also pity for the wife, forced to witness the love between her husband and sister, doomed to barrenness. She also felt repugnance toward Kumoi for selfishly sabotaging her sister’s marriage. Reiko couldn’t imagine a scenario more likely to lead to murder.