‘I’ve told you! I never thought about the man at all. I don’t waste my time thinking of stable lads or kitchen maids or even Mistress Wychbold.’ Again, he shrugged. ‘Why should I? They’re nothing to me.’
I could see that I was wasting my time, so I gave up. I didn’t suppose Simon Bellknapp had ever seriously considered the thoughts and feelings of anyone except himself in the whole of his life. I detached myself from the bedpost against which I had been leaning, and gave a curt nod of my head. (I certainly wasn’t prepared to give the little monster the courtesy of a bow, whatever the difference in our stations.)
‘I’ll wish you goodnight once more then, Master.’
‘And don’t come bothering me a second time,’ he hissed viciously, jerking himself forward, away from the pillows, to emphasize his words.
For a moment, his head was haloed by the candlelight, and I was taken aback by his unexpected resemblance to his brother. The shadows had temporarily aged a face that was normally young and immature, giving it the same saturnine expression that I had occasionally noted on Anthony.
‘What are you gawping at?’ he demanded ill-naturedly, irritated by my fixed, unblinking stare.
I ignored the question, briefly inclined my head again and left the room.
I judged it too late by then to interrogate any more of the household, most of whom would have already sought their beds, although it was possible that the maids had not yet retired to whatever corners they inhabited during the watches of the night. So I made my way to the kitchens and was rewarded by finding two of the girls still hard at work, one busy damping down the fire with sods of peat from a pile which stood at the side of the hearth, the other stacking bowls and plates on the table ready for use in the morning. And by a lucky chance, the first girl was the one I was looking for.
Both maids were plainly startled by my late appearance, but were immediately all smiles when they realized it was no one in authority come to spy on them.
‘Goodness! You made me jump,’ the fair-haired one complained, rising from her knees and brushing the residue of peat from her hands on the sides of her skirt. ‘I thought you were Mistress Wychbold come to check on us. She does that sometimes.’
Her darker-haired companion agreed, nodding her head vigorously. ‘The old dragon doesn’t trust us. She suspects us of letting the stable lads in for a bit of you-know-what.’ She giggled. ‘She’s never caught us at it yet, though. We’re too clever for that.’ The girl eyed me provocatively. ‘Is that what you’ve come for? To try your luck?’
I grinned and gave her back look for look. ‘Unfortunately, no. I don’t think my wife would approve.’
‘Oh, wives!’ was the dismissive answer. ‘What the eye doesn’t see …’
‘Bridget, behave yourself,’ the first girl admonished her friend. ‘What will Master Chapman think of you?’ She glanced at me and asked shyly, ‘Can we help you?’
‘It’s you I was hoping to see,’ I answered.
‘Your lucky night, Anne,’ the girl called Bridget giggled.
Her friend blushed to the roots of her hair, but maintained a dignified silence, merely raising her eyebrows at me and waiting patiently to hear what I had to say.
‘When we spoke at breakfast this morning,’ I said, ‘you told me that twice during the night you heard people moving about. I wondered if, by any chance, you knew who they were.’
She frowned a little in puzzlement, then her brow cleared.
‘I remember. You were off your food and when I asked you why, you admitted to feeling queasy. And I thought it might have been something you ate at supper because I’d been woken by the noise of someone scuffling along the passageway. I usually sleep in the dairy in the summer,’ she added by way of explanation. ‘It’s nice and cool in there.’
‘And do you have any idea who it was?’
She shook her head regretfully. ‘But it was a man. I heard him cough. That was the first time.’
‘And the second?’
‘It was just someone mounting the stairs to the bedchambers. The bottom two creak, and I remember thinking that perhaps now we had a new master, he’d get the treads replaced. Dame Audrea’s been talking about doing it for ages, but so far nothing’s happened.’
Bridget, irritated at being left out of the conversation, asked mockingly, ‘You’re sure you didn’t dream all this, Annie? You’re usually such a heavy sleeper.’ She transferred her gaze to me. ‘It takes me and another of the girls to wake her every morning.’
‘I did hear it, just as I said,’ Anne protested indignantly. ‘If you don’t believe me, you can ask Master Steward. He looked into the dairy a few minutes after I’d heard whoever it was go upstairs. He wanted to know if we were all right, as he’d heard someone creeping about, too. You wouldn’t have known that, though,’ she finished triumphantly. ‘You were sound asleep and snoring!’
Honours now being even, the girls forgot their animosity and became firm friends again, both begging me to sit down and have a cup of ale.
‘It’s not very late yet,’ Bridget urged.
‘And no one’s likely to come in and find you here,’ Anne added. ‘Mistress Wychbold said she was so worn out after the terrible events of the day, she didn’t expect to stir all night.’
I declined their offer, tempting though it was, giving it as my opinion, based on experience, that it was when people were overtired and overwrought that their rest was most fitful. I wished them both a good night and pleasant dreams — although in the present unhappy circumstances this seemed like mere politeness — and returned for the second time that evening to the bedchamber I continued to share with Humphrey Attleborough. I was prepared to find him asleep, but he was still sitting just as I had left him, on the edge of his truckle-bed and fully clothed. He had not even bothered to light a candle, so, cursing, I fished in my pouch for my tinder box, made my way to the four-poster and lit the one standing on the chest beside the bed.
‘For heaven’s sake get undressed,’ I said crossly.
‘I’m not tired,’ was his morose reply, whereupon I let rip with one of my more colourful oaths.
‘Well, I am!’ I roared, making him jump.
I was immediately contrite, particularly as he looked as if he might burst into tears.
‘Shit! I’m sorry,’ I said, going over to sit beside him. ‘I know you’re upset and worried, lad, but you ought to try to get some rest. You’ve important decisions to make tomorrow.’ He still made no move, and I sighed wearily. ‘Would it help to talk about Master Bellknapp? You seem to have been fond of him.’
Humphrey nodded and a tear trickled down his cheek. ‘He was kind to me. Mind you,’ he added fair-mindedly, ‘he wasn’t kind to everybody. He could be very unpleasant to people he didn’t like. In fact, more than just unpleasant. We were in an inn in Cambridge once, and a man annoyed him. I can’t even recall now what the argument was about, but it grew very heated until the master lost his temper good and proper. The man had a dog with him, a thin, mangy-looking creature, but the man was obviously very fond of it. Kept pulling its ears and petting it. Master Bellknapp just picked up a knife off the nearest table and stuck it straight into the animal’s throat. We had to get out of there in a hurry, I can tell you, or the other drinkers would have torn him limb from limb. In fact, we got out of Cambridge altogether for a while until we judged people wouldn’t recognize us and it was safe to go back.’ He must have seen the expression on my face, because he added apologetically, ‘It was only a dog. A mangy cur. The master didn’t kill a person.’
Even so, it struck me as a pretty ruthless thing to do, and I recollected Dame Audrea’s statement — which I had dismissed at the time as a sign of her prejudice against Anthony — that her elder son had an evil streak in him. An uneasy suspicion was beginning to form in the back of my mind, only to be rejected as impossible. Or, then again, perhaps not …