9

M argaret says Daniel is at the forge today,’ Sam announces the next morning.

‘Did she mind you going into the kitchen?’ Alice asks him. That part of the house is usually very busy at this time of day, and a small boy asking questions might not be welcome. ‘You must not keep her from her work, Sam.’

‘She doesn’t mind, she likes me,’ Sam says. A friendship was forged between Sam and this kitchen maid of Ursula’s during visits in the short period before Alice was married in the spring, and Alice is aware that Margaret used to save up small edible treats for Sam. ‘Can we go and see Daniel, Alice?’

‘I don’t see why not,’ she replies. ‘We’ll take him his cherry tart.’ Ursula, she thinks, might welcome the notion of having fewer guests to divert. Mistress Goldwoode remained in her chamber yesterday after Ursula brought her and the baby back from the inn, but she has apparently indicated she will be downstairs today. Martyn and Helena Sprag did not come down for breakfast and are possibly taking the opportunity to sleep late after their difficult journey. Alice feels she and Sam will not be missed.

The walk into Hillbury takes them up the rise in front of the mansion. The top is crowned with trees, and the track passes straight through the woods for several hundred paces before dropping down into the village by the inn. Some of Mistress Ford’s children are playing football in the road, kicking around a pig’s bladder stuffed with sheep’s wool that bulges through the crudely stitched opening. They wave to Alice and Sam as they pass. At the bakery, smoke rises from the chimney where a knot of women is gathered in gossip with their baskets of dough, waiting their turn to have their bread baked. Alice and Sam pass on up the road and cross to the other side where a haze rising from the smithy chimney testifies that Daniel is at his forge today. As they approach, Alice wonders whose restive stallion Daniel is shoeing, a beast of quality. The owner is nowhere to be seen.

The blacksmith straightens as they walk into the yard, Alice holding firmly onto Sam’s hand to prevent him running to Daniel and possibly alarming the finely bred horse.

‘Give ye good day Alice, good day Sam,’ Daniel greets them. ‘Ah, what’s that you carry?’

‘The tart I promised you,’ she tells him. ‘Sam, why don’t you take it and put it on the table indoors?’

‘And Sam, you’ll find something for you on the table,’ Daniel tells him. He turns to Alice. ‘I’m just finishing here, if you’ll give me a minute. How did you know I’d be here, by the way?’

‘Margaret up at the mansion told Sam.’

‘Margaret? Ah.’ Daniel says no more.

Sam comes running out holding up a wooden figure. ‘It’s a horse, Alice! It’s a horse!’ He squats down in the yard to gallop the horse here and there amongst the stones, logs and clumps of grass.

‘It’s to replace that faggot he was using,’ Daniel tells her. ‘I whittled it yesterday.’

‘It’s perfect, Daniel,’ she says. ‘See how delighted he is. Still, you do realise you may have made further work for yourself, don’t you?’

‘How so?’

She tells him what happened to Sam’s two wooden toys that Daniel whittled for him back in the winter. ‘I’m afraid there was no hope of mending Samuel and Zachariah after the bailiff’s men trod on them.’

‘Well,’ he says with a grin, ‘long light evenings, what else would I be doing?

‘Fine beast, Daniel.’ Alice indicates the horse.

‘The Justice’s.’

‘As in, Sir Thomas Harcourt?’

‘The same.’

‘He’s asking questions at the inn, is he?’

‘You heard about that, then?’

‘We were there,’ Alice explains how Sam’s sickness brought them to stay the night, how Margery asked her to check Master Goldwoode’s body. ‘What has the coroner said?’

‘Don’t think he’s here yet. They’ve taken the body to the church. Sir Thomas said to me the coroner will ask him to be the investigating justice, so he wants to sniff around a bit in advance. Merchant from Bristol, they’re saying.’

‘He was, he dealt in dye stuffs and he’d come to see Mistress Cazanove about supplies. Who do you think they will call to the coroner’s court?’

‘Anyone who was in the taproom and saw anything, I suppose.’

‘Do you know where it will be held?’ Alice asks.

‘Up at Woodley Court, perhaps?’ Daniel says. ‘Sir Thomas says Coroner will want to stay at his place when he comes.’

‘I hope they get to the bottom of it quickly. As well as the widow, we have relations of the dead man staying at the mansion, and one of them is unbelievably exacting. He suggested to me that Mistress Cazanove is only offering him shelter under her roof because she wants favours from him as Goldwoode’s heir.’

‘Heir to a Bristol merchant?’ Daniel smiles. ‘What favours can she possibly want from him?’

‘He thinks she can’t run her dye houses without his influence!’ Alice says. ‘The worst of it is, he will take over Goldwoode’s business and she will be obliged to deal with him in the future. What a prospect.’

A booted tread behind her and Alice turns to see a middle-aged man of prosperous girth approaching. ‘Mistress Jerrard!’ He sweeps off his tall, narrow-brimmed hat and makes a leg, displaying a shapely calf clad in silk, and indigo hose buttoned with silver at the knee. More silver buttons close the front of his indigo doublet, and silver buckles decorate his pointed shoes. The whole complements the silvering of his hair at temple and nape. She responds with a dip of curtsey. ‘Sir Thomas.’

‘My dear Alice, this is most pleasant. Patten’s wife at the inn told me you were visiting.’ Sir Thomas Harcourt places himself alongside her, facing Daniel. ‘Checking on your lands, are you? I hope Bunting here is giving a good account of himself at your place?’

Alice cringes within. ‘I count myself fortunate that Master Bunting agreed to take on the lease, sir,’ she says, adding, ‘In fact he and I were just discussing business.’

‘Of course, of course.’ Ignoring the hint, he extends an indigo sleeve, curving it a hand’s width from her, obliging her to turn and walk with him away from Daniel. ‘I’ll return her to you in a moment, Bunting,’ he calls back. ‘Now tell me, my dear, why is that handsome husband of yours not escorting you? What’s he doing that is so vital he cannot discuss business himself instead of leaving it to his little lady?’

‘Sir, I should advise you…’ Alice is beginning to regret her resolve not to broadcast Henry’s fate. Why did she not just let the news leak out? She takes a deep breath and as briefly as possible enlightens Sir Thomas.

He stops, a grave look on his face. ‘My dear Alice! My poor dear Alice! You have my gravest condolences. Devastating news! Devastating indeed.’

‘Your sympathy is of great support to me, sir,’ she answers, and wonders what on earth those words mean. She finds herself almost apologising. ‘You understand, I am staying very quietly with Mistress Cazanove and did not expect to be in the village. I only came down here today to see Daniel.’

‘As owner of Hill House farm, yes, of course you want to speak with your tenant,’ Sir Thomas says. ‘And he’s looking after it for you?’

‘I could not be blessed with a better tenant, sir,’ Alice answers.

‘Good, good. And you have your late husband’s place in Surrey to run as well, eh?’

‘I do, sir.’

‘Difficult for such a young person. A woman. On your own.’

‘We manage, Sir Thomas.’ Olivia’s words come back to her, and Alice adds, ‘They all know their work and understand what is to be done.’

‘That’s the spirit, my dear. For the time being that will do very well.’ He leans confidentially. ‘And I’ll look in on Bunting here for you, now and then. Keep an eye on him, you know, keep him up to the mark.’

‘It’s most generous of you, but I’m sure there is no need for you to go to the trouble, Sir Thomas.’

‘In fact, Bunting said to me earlier that as long as it stays set fair he expects to start cutting the hay tomorrow. I’ll send my sons over to help. Bunting!’ he calls. ‘I’m sending my two lads over in the morning to help with the cut. Just use them for whatever you need.’ He turns back to Alice, ‘There, my dear, least I can do.’

‘Thank you, Sir Thomas, I’m sure that will be a great help.’

‘Not at all, not at all. They’ll be able to report back to me. I’ll let you know if there are any problems. We should like to show our respect for, er… for your late husband.’

‘I feel sure Henry would have been touched by your thoughtfulness, sir. As am I.’

‘Henry, yes. Fine fellow, Henry. We’ll all miss him. And if Lady Harcourt or I can do anything to alleviate your distress, we are at your service.’ After the briefest pause, he continues, ‘In fact, I feel sure my lady will not forgive me if I do not invite you to a small supper with us. You would be doing us a great favour,’ he adds as Alice starts to decline. ‘My wife and the boys only. Just a small, private supper.’

‘You are most kind, Sir Thomas,’ Alice says, ‘but as I say, I am here very quietly.’

‘My wife and the boys only,’ he repeats. ‘You cannot refuse us this one small favour. You know my boys well, it wouldn’t be a roomful of strangers, now would it? Mmm?’

‘You are right, sir, it would not.’

‘It’s many long months since we had the pleasure of seeing you at Woodley Court. Let us get to know each other again.’

‘Thank you, Sir Thomas, perhaps I may have time to think about it?’ The message has been received. Alice Jerrard, young, widow and owner of two properties, is back on the market, whether she likes it or not.

Time to change the subject. ‘Daniel tells me you are looking into Master Goldwoode’s death,’ she says.

Having said and done as much as a gentleman with an eye to his profit can be expected to say and do at this stage, Sir Thomas smiles on his prey. ‘Between you and me, Alice, it’ll be open and shut,’ he says. ‘These merchant rivalries, messy affairs. I have my eye on a particular fellow. As soon as Coroner Dallier has pronounced, we’ll root him out and pull him in.’ He pats her shoulder. ‘Don’t you lose any sleep over it, my dear.’