The Witching Pool: A Justice Belstrang Mystery (Justice Belstrang Mysteries Book 2) by John Pilkington (love letters to the dead .TXT) 📗

But neither of us could have had an inkling of what would unfold.

NINE

Ebbfield was still a house in mourning. And as Boyd and I rode out from Worcester under a blue sky, I confess I had misgivings as to what now seemed a bold, if not rash course of action. In truth I had few expectations of learning much, and more of finding my presence unwelcome. I should add that I had said nothing, back at Thirldon, either about my meeting with Standish or of my further intentions. I had no desire to hear further doubts expressed by Hester or Childers.

We were both wary as we approached the manor, slowing our mounts as the house came into view. But no sooner had we crossed the moat than we heard noises: stamping hooves, the barking of dogs and raised voices. Passing under the arched gatehouse, I was surprised to see seven or eight horsemen gathered in the courtyard, with servants milling about and several dogs off the leash. And there was Giles Cobbett on a fine coursing-horse, in conversation with others: men of his own standing, to judge from their clothes. Whereupon their business was at once plain: this was a hunting party.

I reined in, Boyd doing the same beside me. I confess I was at a loss for words: did Cobbett truly mean to entertain guests so soon after his daughter’s burial, and in this manner? There was a restlessness about the man, as if he were eager for the chase - and at once Hester’s words at the graveside came to mind: I never saw a father so unmoved… My eyes moved across the group, to settle on one of the horsemen. For a moment I wondered if I were mistaken - then saw that I was not.

Close to Cobbett, his gaze now upon Boyd and I, was Thomas Woolland, the parson who had conducted the funeral. He had swapped his vestments for hunting attire, though his demeanour was as I remembered: stern and forbidding. And the next moment, having caught the man’s eye, Cobbett himself turned in the saddle and saw us.

For a moment he appeared confounded. Then, even from some distance away, I saw a flicker of anger cross the man’s features, to be replaced by a look of bemusement. After murmuring a few words to those nearest to him, he shook the rein and eased his horse forward, to halt but a yard or two from Boyd and I. As if sharing my unease, Leucippus gave a snort and tossed his head.

‘Belstrang?’ Cobbett eyed me, his gaze far from friendly. ‘What’s this – were you hoping to join my hunt?’

‘No… in truth, sir, I’ve always been a fishing man first and foremost,’ I answered, summoning a faint smile.

‘What of your friend?’ He looked sharply at Boyd. ‘Your face seems familiar, sir… do you have business here?’

‘Not as such, sir,’ the doctor answered. He gave his name and station, to which Cobbett barely nodded. Without troubling to conceal his impatience, he faced me again.

‘Well now, if this is another sympathy visit, I’m most grateful,’ he said, in a flat tone. ‘But you see I have guests, and our quarry awaits. Perhaps we might postpone our conversation for another day.’ He raised his brows. ‘I assume it was a conversation you desired?’

‘It was,’ I answered. Glancing past Cobbett, I found the eyes of every horseman upon me – especially those of Woolland. His expression was more than one of curiosity: it was one of plain hostility. Looking away, I was about to make reply to the master of Ebbfield, when my attention was caught by a slim figure on a pale-grey mare… and it was all I could do not to give a start.

Jane Cobbett, the only member of the female sex present, was also looking at me - as intently as she had done but three days ago, at her sister’s burial. With an effort I turned back to the girl’s father, realising he was addressing me.

‘As I’ve said, though it pains me greatly, I fear we must leave it for another time.’ Cobbett’s voice was heavy with sarcasm. ‘I beg pardon if your ride was wasted… then it’s a fine morning, is it not?’

To his irritation, however, feeling a surge of Belstrang stubbornness, I failed to heed the rebuff.

‘It is indeed. Yet I’ll admit I’m surprised to see you venturing out to hunt, given the short time that’s elapsed since your recent loss. Your middle daughter, too… I formed an opinion that she was most grief-stricken, and likely to remain in mourning for a time.’

At that, the man fairly bristled with anger. I had gone too far… but then, I have often found this a way to get at the truth. Beside me, I knew Boyd had tensed; his horse felt it, and shifted restlessly.

‘I think I’ve heard enough from you just now, Belstrang,’ Cobbett said icily. ‘In fact, now I think upon it, I’ve seen and heard enough of you to last me a year. Whatever your business, I suggest you take it away with you - now.’

He jerked the rein harshly, then turned in the saddle to deliver his final words.

‘I’ve heard things of late, about your sudden interest in my affairs,’ he snapped. ‘Ill-judged and meddlesome, some call it, even discourteous – which matches your reputation, as I recall. But I say this: if you truly intend to take up the case of that cunning-woman, you make an enemy of me. And I give you warning: that is something no man who knows me well would ever wish to do.’

He turned his back and walked his horse back to his companions. Words were spoken – seemingly a jest of some kind, for the response