Deliverance: A Justice Belstrang Mystery by John Pilkington (top 10 most read books in the world .TXT) 📗

only by seeing the harshest of penalties dealt out. The previous night, March and I had agreed on a strategy of sorts, though the outcome was in some doubt. Among other things, I feared for Sir Richard when he learned what wickedness had been done in his name, if without his knowledge – indeed, on that score, it was quite likely he may not even be believed.

It was one of the gravest predicaments I have faced. And by late afternoon, having broken my journey at Tewkesbury, I was in turmoil when I at last reached Upton and crossed the river. I could only hope I had judged aright, and that Maria Mountford might provide me with a means of getting the truth out of her husband. I see now that it was a somewhat tawdry strategy, yet I saw no other. For if Francis learned what had occurred down in the Forest of Dean, I expected that he would flee at once; what choice had he, when his life would be forfeit?

Moreover, I wondered, might he have had news already?

Troubled by these thoughts, I rode a tired Leucippus through the gates of Foxhill and drew rein in the courtyard, to find that all was tranquil. Men were at work in the nearby rose garden, a maid was gathering clean sheets from a hedge, and a lively young stable boy soon appeared to attend to my mount. I then walked heavily towards the doors of the manor, to be greeted by Mountford’s servant. A short time later I was escorted to a pleasant chamber overlooking the nearby woods, where Maria Mountford herself stood up to greet me. She had been sitting with a companion, who rose and made her curtsey.

‘Master Belstrang… what an unexpected pleasure.’

Mistress Mountford’s voice was languid as ever… indeed, she appeared somewhat heavy-lidded and slow in her movements. With an effort I made my greetings, before asking how she fared.

‘We are all well, sir… though I regret I cannot say the same for Sir Richard.’ And when I tensed, she added: ‘He’s taken a turn for the worse, since you were last here… alas, we fear the end will not be long.’

‘That’s grave news,’ I managed to say. ‘Might I be permitted to see him?’

She appeared to consider, while avoiding my gaze. I glanced briefly at the servant: a very pretty young woman, standing with eyes downcast. A moment passed, before her mistress turned to her.

‘Katherine, will you take word to my husband that a guest is come?’

As Katherine went off to obey, the lady faced me and invited me to sit close by her. Striving to appear at ease, I did so, then asked after Francis, which produced a sigh.

‘Much weighed down with business, sir. The foundrymen are troublesome down in Dean. It pains me to see him so occupied.’

‘Cannot Sir Richard advise him?’ I asked, somewhat abruptly. ‘Surely his knowledge and experience would be invaluable.’

‘As I said, sir, my father-in-law is unwell,’ came the reply. Was there an edge to her voice? I murmured some words of condolence.

‘Very kind… now, Master Belstrang, might I enquire what brings you here? Though you are of course most welcome… was it fishing, or hunting we spoke of last time? I forget.’

My mind busy, I sought to compose an answer. Meanwhile Mistress Mountford allowed a yawn to escape, before stifling it without much effort – whereupon I blinked: I had caught the whiff of strong spirits on the woman’s breath. Just then, however, footsteps sounded from the hallway, and Francis walked in. He wore a perfunctory smile of welcome… but at sight of me, it faded quickly.

‘Belstrang… why, you take me by surprise, sir. I thought… but no matter.’ Turning to the mistress of the house, he added quickly: ‘Katherine spoke of a guest, without providing me with a name. Somewhat remiss of you, was it not?’

‘Was it?’ his wife answered vaguely. ‘Your pardon, sir… what a silly girl I am become.’

At once there was tension in the room, which caused me some embarrassment. And yet, I thought, might this not afford me an opening, sooner than expected? Having risen at Francis’s arrival, I followed him in sitting again, girding myself for some verbal sparring. To the man’s polite enquiry, which echoed his wife’s, I made a reply that startled both of them.

‘In truth, I come to bring news,’ I said. ‘But first, a confession: I did not ride here today from my estate by Worcester. I came up from Gloucester, and before that I was down in the Forest of Dean.’

The result was a silence, and a look of alarm on both faces, though Francis quickly mastered his.

‘I went down there at the request of your father, sir,’ I added, eying the man without expression. ‘He asked me, as an old friend, to make enquiries into the death of his brother.’

‘He did what?’ With a frown, Francis Mountford sat bolt upright. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘You will,’ I replied. ‘Indeed, I’m somewhat surprised that word has not yet reached you from Lydney. Are you not aware that Cricklepit Foundry has been deserted, and that production of ordnance has ceased?’

My answer was another stunned silence. But I shifted my gaze to Maria Mountford, and saw a look of horror appear. Seizing my advantage, I pressed on.

‘Moreover, your foundry-master Tobias Russell is dead. He was slain while resisting arrest, on the Lydney marshes. Before he died, however, he made confession of his crimes.’

That last item was pure invention on my part, but to my satisfaction it had a profound effect: Francis Mountford rose from his chair, facing me with suppressed anger.

‘You are bold, Belstrang,’ he said quietly. ‘Not to say, a man of surprises… is there anything more you wish to tell?’

‘As it happens there is,’ I answered, tapping my chest. ‘I have in my