Day of Wrath (8 page)

‘Landstock and the Coroner say he was murdered, but we don't know who by, and for what reason.'

‘Murdered?' said Mortimer, rousing himself from his gloomy introspection. ‘I am surprised. Who'd want to murder your steward? I would say he was a man absolutely without enemies. He must have disturbed thieves at work and they attacked him. I've suffered from break-ins too. Only recently they emptied my lake of carp. Prime carp, too, ready for the table. I've had to re-stock. The Prior kindly gave me permission to help myself from his own fishponds. I'm most grateful to him. Fortunately he always keeps a good supply; he's very partial to a fat carp.'

‘Yes, you're probably right. He could have disturbed thieves and tried to stop them. I shall miss him. He was a good man, and I'm glad he found some happiness in your household.'

‘He loved Bess,' said Margot moving the baby from one shoulder to the other. ‘She's now quite beside herself with grief. She keeps to her room and won't see anyone. I've tried to persuade her to come down into the garden for some fresh air, but she refuses. I've sent for Mistress Jane to come and see her this afternoon. She's the only person Bess lets near her.'

‘Jane Warrener coming here?' said Nicholas, feeling his heart miss a beat at the mention of her name.

‘Yes. Jane's been a good support.'

‘I can't think how that misery of a father produced such a delightful girl,' said Mortimer. ‘He and that devil of a Vicar are a real menace, praising the King to high heaven and stirring up the villagers against the monks. As soon as the monks are kicked out, Warrener will be up at the Priory with his wheelbarrow and pickaxe. It's monstrous, Lord Nicholas. You must stop it. You've got the ear of the King.'

‘I'm sure Lord Nicholas is doing his best,' said Margot evenly. ‘Your family's been patron of the Priory since Duke William came over from Normandy. You'll not see it pulled down without a protest.'

‘I shall certainly try to dissuade the King when next I see him. But he's a very determined man.'

‘Then if you don't succeed we shall have to take action ourselves.'

Nicholas looked at him sharply. ‘Have a care, Sir Roger. The King doesn't like criticism. It's a small step from opposition to treason as far as he's concerned.'

‘So we should all submit to the tyrant's will?'

‘I refuse to listen to any more of this. Remember my position as a Justice. Do you want to be arrested?'

‘Are you threatening me?'

‘Just warning you. That's all. Now, Lady Margot, is it possible to have a word with Bess? She might be able to tell me more about Matthew. Whom he associated with – that sort of thing. Everything can be helpful in a murder investigation.'

Nicholas saw a look pass between Mortimer and his wife. She shook her head. ‘Not yet, my Lord. She's still in a state of shock.'

Nicholas saw Margot's face close down, and he knew he wouldn't see Bess that day. But the Mortimers knew more than they let on. How much did they know? And how could he find out?

‘The funeral's tomorrow. Bess will be there, of course? Maybe I can speak to her then.'

‘I'll see to it that she's there. But she'll not be up to any questioning,' said Margot firmly.

‘I wouldn't want to upset her any more. But there is one thing that puzzles me. I understand my under-steward, Giles Yelman, has been coming to see you. Now why does he come? Is he courting one of your dairymaids?'

‘Your under-steward, Lord Nicholas?' said Mortimer. ‘He's never been here, not to my knowledge anyway. Have you seen him, my dear?'

‘Your under-steward? No, he's not been here, I'm sure of that,' said Lady Margot, looking down at her baby, who was becoming fretful.

They were lying, thought Nicholas, as he picked up his riding gloves. Jane had told him that Giles had been here. Jane wouldn't have made it up. Now what were the Mortimers trying to hide? He must talk to Giles.

Outside in the courtyard, the groom brought Harry out of the stable. Mortimer looked at Nicholas.

‘We must talk some more about these things, my Lord. Come and dine with us soon. We are all interested to know the King's mind.'

‘If I knew that, Sir Roger, I would be a magician, not a man. He goes his own way.'

‘But I'm sure he'll listen to you. After all, you come from one of the oldest families in the land. Your ancestors have always been close to the King. As for myself, I'm only a nonentity. My family only goes back to the days of the Black Prince.'

‘And by all accounts, your ancestor did him a great service at the Battle of Poitiers?'

‘He saved his life, yes, but it only earned him a knighthood.'

‘And he was given this house. One of the royal hunting lodges. Not a bad reward for services rendered.'

More to the point, thought Nicholas as he rode away, your wife is related to the Yorkist King Edward. And it's best to keep quiet about that. Henry Tudor doesn't take kindly to anyone with Yorkist connections.

Chapter Five

‘She's in her room, Jane, my dear,' said Lady Margot, who was in the kitchen supervising the stuffing of a brace of woodcock. ‘She's very upset. Nothing we can do or say seems to have any effect on her. I'm glad you've come; you might be able to rouse her. She won't eat anything. Hannah takes her up some water in the morning and she only takes a tiny sip. You might be able to persuade her to eat something. Matthew certainly wouldn't want her to starve herself for his sake. She'll listen to you, I know. You've always been such good friends; she's waiting for you to come.'

Jane went upstairs to the small room tucked under the eaves which had been Bess's room ever since she'd come to Mortimer Lodge with Lady Margot twelve years ago. She knocked and went in.

Bess was sitting in a chair by the casement window, which looked out over the commons to the manor of Dean Peverell. Jane was shocked at her appearance. Bess had always been slim but that morning she looked gaunt, and her sweet, oval face was haggard. Her dark eyes, her best feature, usually glowing with mischief, were dull and lifeless. She looked the picture of desolation, and Jane went over to her, wrapped her arms round her painfully thin shoulders and buried her head in her dark hair.

‘Bess, my dear Bess, I am so sorry. I know how much you loved him. But please don't give up. He wouldn't want to see you like this. Is there anything I can do to help? Forgive me, I know that sounds stupid but we're all so worried about you.' Bess shook her head, but Jane could feel her begin to relax. She pulled over a footstool, put it beside Bess's chair, sat down and waited.

‘Yes, I loved him, Jane,' Bess whispered. ‘We were planning to get married, you know. Lady Margot was happy about it. Next month, after the feast of Corpus Christi. Our baby would be four months by then. Yes, I am carrying his baby,' she said as Jane looked up at her in surprise. ‘What's wrong with that? We loved each other. Why should we have waited for a priest to make us man and wife? I was so glad when I knew, but now … I think I ought to leave this place, and go back to Guisborne. There's nothing for me here. I'm sure Lady Margot wouldn't want to be bothered with an unmarried mother with a fatherless child.'

‘I'm so pleased about the baby, Bess, and I'm sure Lady Margot will be very supportive. After all, she's like a mother to you. Have you told her yet?'

‘She's guessed. I've been very sick in the mornings and haven't been much use in supervising the children's breakfast.'

‘Then nothing's changed. Lady Margot will love your child. So why go back to Guisborne? Those days are over. You've been here twelve years, ever since you were a child. You were just six years old.'

‘It's where I was born. Someone will remember me and take me in.'

‘But you told me you never knew your father, and your mother's been dead these five years. We all love you and if Lady Margot dismisses you, which I'm sure she won't, then there will always be a place for you and your child with us.'

‘Jane, how wonderfully kind you are. But I'm sure your father…'

‘Oh, he'll not mind. Besides, he always does as I say.'

A smile lit up Bess's wan face for a brief moment. ‘Jane, you're wicked. But I love you all the same. I don't want to be a burden to anyone. Just look how weak I am.'

She stood up slowly, levering herself up out of the armchair like an old woman. Then she tottered over to the bed, and sat down on the edge of it, breathing heavily.

‘See how it is? I couldn't possibly go downstairs. I can hardly walk. Jane, what's the matter with me?'

‘You're weak, and ill. I'll tell Lady Margot you need a doctor, some fortifying soup and a long, sound sleep.'

Gently, Jane eased Bess back on her pillow, and pushed the strands of her dark hair back from her face.

‘Please don't trouble Lady Margot any more. One of the monks has already been to see me. He brought me a fortifying potion yesterday and he said he'll be back today. It hasn't done me much good so far, but I'll probably feel better later on today. But Jane, I feel so frightened, and I don't know why. I don't seem to understand anything. Why should anyone want to murder Matthew? They tell me thieves did it, but why are they so sure? Sir Roger refuses to discuss it with me; he just frowns and walks away, and Lady Margot changes the subject when I ask if the thieves have been caught. Something's horribly wrong, Jane; and it's all so confusing and my brain goes round and round in circles.'

‘Don't worry about catching Matthew's murderers, Bess. Lord Nicholas is leading the investigation and he's doing all he can. The Sheriff will soon catch them. He knows all the rogues in the district. He'll soon have them under lock and key. But it's you I'm worried about; even more so now that I know you're carrying Matthew's child. You must get better so that you can give birth to a fine, healthy baby. Think how much Matthew would have wanted this child. I'll see if Agnes Myles has a strengthening tonic for you.'

‘Oh you and your old witch! I don't expect she can do anything for me.'

‘Hush, Bess, she's not a witch. She's a herbalist and knows more about how our bodies work than all the apothecaries in the south of England.'

‘Then I do hope she can do something for me. I really don't feel well; and I have a feeling that the child's not well either. Can a baby share his mother's grief and die in the womb, Jane?'

‘I'm not a doctor, Bess, but as far as I know, babies survive most things. He's quite safe in there,' she said, patting Bess's abdomen which was still flat as a board. ‘But now there's even more reason why you must start eating again. Let me get you some bread and soup.'

Jane left Bess and went down to the kitchen where Mary, the Mortimers' stout cook, was stirring the big iron pot which always hung over the fire. She asked if she could have a bowl of soup and some bread, and Mary, her large, plain face flushed and perspiring, scooped some soup out of the pot with a huge iron ladle and told her to help herself to bread.

She took the food up to Bess, who'd curled up on to her side, and seemed to be asleep. She put the bowl down and roused her. Then, after propping her up on a pillow, she gave Bess the spoon, but Bess was too weak to hold it so Jane fed her like a child. After only one mouthful, Bess pushed the spoon away.

‘It's no use, Jane. I can't eat it; I'll only be sick, and that makes me even weaker. I really would like to go to sleep, so don't stay with me much longer. You've got your father to look after and a house to run. By the way, when are they going to bury Matthew?'

‘Tomorrow; but unless you're a lot stronger, you shouldn't even think of coming. It would only upset you. I'll tell you everything when it's all over. But now, sleep well and I'll come back later on this evening.'

‘Jane, you're such a comfort to me. You'll take me to the graveyard, won't you, when it's all over, and show me where they bury him?'

‘Of course I will. Sleep now. Don't think about anything, except the child you're carrying.'

‘I'll try not to worry, but things go round and round in my head. That day when Matthew and I hid behind the sofa and we heard all those terrible things about the King, what did it all mean? And now Giles Yelman has been coming here and he talks with Sir Roger for a long time, locked away in the study. What are they talking about, Jane? And why does Lady Margot turn away when I ask her?'

‘Has Giles been here lately, Bess?'

‘I don't know. But he was here on the day Matthew died, when Lord Nicholas was away.'

‘Perhaps he came to complain about something; Sir Roger's cattle straying across to Lord Nicholas's land, for instance.'

‘Then surely the bailiff would come, not Giles. He's nothing; just a slimy toad of a man, always peering under stones. Jane, I'm so frightened. What will become of Lady Margot and the children if anything should happen to Sir Roger?'

‘I'll speak to Lord Nicholas, Bess, when I next see him. He'll soon sort this out. But now you mustn't think about Giles Yelman. Just close your eyes and sleep.'

The effort of talking had exhausted Bess and she sank back on her pillow and closed her eyes. Jane watched as Bess's body relaxed and she sank into a deep sleep. Then she picked up the bowl of soup and the bread and went down to the kitchen.

Mary looked at the uneaten food and shook her head. ‘She can't live on air, Mistress Warrener. The poor child's already as thin as a reed.'

‘She's very weak, Mary, and I'm worried about her. She was always so full of life; it's dreadful to see her like this.'

‘I can remember you both as small girls playing together out in the garden. You picked peas for me, and shelled them, eating more than you put in the bowl. You helped yourselves to strawberries, too, stuffing them into your mouths until the juice dribbled all down your smocks. You were always the forward one, mind. Bess got all her ideas from you.'