Выбрать главу

I thanked him again. He adjured me to visit the beauties of the Rhineland if it were ever in my power to do so, and we parted the best of friends; he, presumably, to continue checking his newly delivered consignment of salt, I in search of Richard Manifold.

I ran him to earth eventually in Redcliffe, where he, Jack Gload and Pete Littleman had been despatched to quell a minor apprentices’ riot in one of the weaving sheds. Everything was under control by the time I arrived, and the two ringleaders were being marched away for a spell in the stocks, so he was perfectly willing to stop and chat (particularly as it turned out Adela had just that afternoon invited him to supper). He gave his prisoners into the heavy-handed charge of his henchmen and walked with me down to the wharves where we could look at the ships riding at anchor, the cranes unloading their various cargoes, and where we could admire the bright summer morning, the clouds high and thin, the sharp, salt tang of the sea borne up river on the faintest of breezes, the shadows ruffling the surface of the water in patterns of grey and gold.

‘So what did Master Wedmore want with you?’ Richard enquired, adding before I could reply, ‘As if I couldn’t guess! Heard about you, has he? Your wonderful reputation as a solver of mysteries come to his ears?’ Even in his present mellow mood he couldn’t resist the jibe. ‘Wants you to help him, does he?’

I nodded. ‘He has asked for my assistance, yes.’ I had no intention of mentioning the blood tie between us. For the present that would remain a secret known only to my half-brother, myself and, in due course, Adela. I had never kept anything from her during our married life. If she had any advice, she would give it and I might even follow it. I had the greatest respect for her opinions.

‘And what do you intend, then? Is there anything you can do?’

‘There might be. I’ve already called on Alderman Foster to learn something about this Dame Bellknapp. He’s a distant kinsman of hers.’

‘You’ve called on John Foster?’ Richard was frankly incredulous. ‘You had the temerity …?’

‘He was extremely pleasant and told me all I wanted to know,’ I interrupted. ‘Or as much as he could. I’m his neighbour, after all.’

‘You’re his neighbour on sufferance, because Mistress Ford left you the old Herepath house. However, I’ve always thought him a tolerant sort of man. One of the richest men in Bristol, for all he lives so modestly. Does a lot of charitable works.’ There was a brief silence while we both watched the sunlight dancing on the river; then Richard asked again, ‘So what do you intend to do? Why did you want to speak to me?’

‘Alderman Foster’s of the opinion that Dame Bellknapp would have returned to Wells yesterday if she could. Did she?’ My companion nodded. ‘In that case,’ I went on, ‘what about Master Wedmore? What happens to him?’

‘It’s been agreed that we hold him for thirty days. If, at the end of that time, Dame Bellknapp has not returned to the city with evidence or witnesses to corroborate her accusation against him, then he will be released.’

‘Thirty days!’ I exclaimed in disgust. ‘You’re going to keep that poor boy locked up for thirty days while some vindictive old crone browbeats her dependents into backing up her story? If he were-’

Richard sighed wearily. ‘I know! I know! If he were the son of a belted earl, or even of a city alderman, it would be different. Of course it would. Grow up, for heaven’s sake, Roger! See the world for what it is, not as you think it ought to be. And, furthermore, Dame Bellknapp is not a crone. A little long in the tooth, perhaps — I doubt she’ll see forty again — but a handsome woman for all that.’

‘I can see she’s won you over,’ I accused him furiously, and stormed off home without giving him a chance to answer.

I barged into the kitchen, where Adela was seated at the table with Nicholas and Elizabeth, trying to teach them their numbers and letters, took off my boots and threw them across the room. My spirits lifted a little, however, when I realized that my former mother-in-law was no longer present.

Adela relieved the children of their hornbooks, patted them on the head and told them to run along. ‘Your father’s present mood is unfit for your little eyes and ears.’ They needed no second bidding, and after casting me a leery glance, disappeared upstairs, where they were soon to be heard charging around like Hannibal and all his elephants. ‘Well? What’s the matter?’ she demanded.

I told her, calming down as I did so, soothed by her presence and by that rare ability of hers to listen without interrupting. But even when I’d finished, she still said nothing for a full minute, one hand pressed to her mouth, while she assimilated the most important part of my story.

At last she asked, ‘And you’re certain, sweetheart, that this John Wedmore isn’t lying? That he is your father’s son? Your half-brother?’

‘I have no doubt whatsoever. I knew he reminded me of someone the moment he walked into the Green Lattis. He’s my father, as I remember him, to the life. And other memories confirm the truth of what he says. He’s blood of my blood, I’m sure of it.’

She took a deep, trembling breath. ‘Then you must help him. Of course you must. You have no choice in the matter. You … You don’t think he could be who this Dame Bellknapp says he is?’

‘He swears he was in Ireland at the time of the murder. I see no reason to disbelieve him, and until I do …’ I let the sentence hang.

‘In which case,’ Adela said quietly, ‘if you believe him innocent, then you must do your best to prove him so.’

I sighed, drawing her up into my arms and holding her tightly. ‘It’ll mean going to Croxcombe Manor,’ I said. ‘I can’t tell how long I might be away. I’ll take my pack, of course. The journey will take me the better part of two days; longer if I stop at the intervening villages to do some selling. Here!’ I let her go and emptied the contents of my purse on the kitchen table. ‘Is that enough to keep you and the children while I’m away?’

Adela counted out the coins and nodded. ‘A week perhaps, if I’m careful.’ She added reproachfully, ‘You haven’t been very busy these past few days.’

‘I know.’ I was contrite. ‘I’ll take Hercules with me. He’ll be one less mouth to feed.’

‘Oh, you’ll certainly take Hercules with you,’ Adela answered cheerfully. ‘I had no intention of keeping him here with me. Three children are hard enough work for any woman.’

‘A good job it isn’t four, then,’ I said without thinking.

The moment I’d spoken, I could have bitten out my tongue. How, I asked myself, could I have been so crass, so cruel? It was only a little over four months since our baby daughter had died within a few days of her birth, leaving Adela totally devastated. One glance at her face told me that my mindless remark had done more than reopen a wound still raw and bleeding; it had confirmed her in the belief that, far from sharing her grief, I had been relieved to be spared the extra responsibility of another dependent. Moreover, I had a daughter, Elizabeth. Adela wanted one who was truly her own.

‘Sweetheart!’ I gasped, trying to take her back into my arms. ‘Forgive me! I wasn’t thinking.’

‘No,’ she answered in a flat voice that chilled me to the bone. She didn’t repulse my embrace, but endured it in a way that was more indicative of her lacerated feelings than any storm of abuse would have been.

‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered. ‘I didn’t mean it.’ I kissed her passionately on her unresisting mouth.

She raised one hand and stroked my cheek. ‘I know you didn’t. It doesn’t matter.’ But of course we both knew that it did. She gently pushed me away. ‘I must prepare the evening meal. Richard’s coming to supper.’