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

‘What tidings?’ I asked. ‘Has anything occurred in my absence?’

‘Tidings?’ He scratched his head. ‘No… well, one of the mares lost a shoe. I meant to get the farrier in…’

But seeing me walk off, he ceased his prattle.

I entered the house and found everything serene; not the homecoming I had feared. Was this to the good, or not? Stiff from riding, sweaty and dusty, I made my way to the kitchens. Here at least, there was activity: two or three wenches started at sight of me and bobbed quickly. Finally Henry appeared, a look of surprise on his face.

‘Welcome back, Master Justice. We didn’t know when you would come, so…’

‘I’m thirsty,’ I told him. ‘Will you get me a drink? And would someone run and tell Mistress Hester I’m here?’

One of the maids went out at once, whereupon I slumped down at the big table, cluttered with bowls and knives and vegetables to be chopped. I needed to wash and change my attire… likely I stank, I realised. When Henry brought me a mug of ale, I drank it down in one gulp.

‘Any news, while I’ve been gone?’ I asked.

‘Nothing of any moment, sir. I’ve some trout and a goose for supper, if you will… and a tansy pudding, and-’

‘Excellent,’ I said, without interest. I got to my feet and moved towards the door, just as the maid came hurrying back.

‘Mistress Hester awaits you, sir… she’s most happy that you’re returned safe.’

I nodded and went out. Still in my boots, I tramped towards my private closet, whereupon Hester appeared at once. I halted, searching her expression, but saw only a smile of welcome. We embraced warmly, and for longer than was our habit. But when I released her, her face was grave.

‘There’s a letter from George,’ she said quietly. ‘It came more than a week ago… I didn’t dare to open it.’

I drew a breath and followed her into the room. There were papers on my table, bills requiring attention. But Hester had been discreet: the letter from George was shut in my iron coffer, away from the eyes of any servant who might come in to sweep the floor. I brought it forth, and we both sat down. Whereupon I opened it hastily, unfolded it and read.

‘Well?’ Even Hester could barely contain her impatience. ‘What has he to say?’

I did not answer, but read the whole letter again before lowering it… and shook my head.

‘Nothing good,’ I said, my spirits sinking. ‘He has tried his utmost to petition the King, as I knew he would. Badgering courtiers and secretaries… he even rode into Surrey to waylay the Royal Progress, but was unable to gain audience. All he could discover was that the King appears set on purchasing Thirldon. Needless to add, nobody has any inclination to try and persuade him otherwise.’

I looked aside, a great weariness upon me; just then I could have cursed James Stuart and his preening favourite Buckingham to the very devil. Then footsteps sounded outside, and Childers entered.

‘Master Justice…’ he managed a smile. ‘What a relief to see you returned. Not having much news, we feared…’ But seeing my expression he stopped short, his eyes going to the letter. Then he faced Hester, who merely shook her head.

And thereafter the three of us were silent, taking in the stark reality in our own ways: as I had feared all along, Thirldon must be given up. It was merely a matter of when.

***

The days that followed were suffused with gloom; I know no other way to put it. While I spent much of the time in my closet dealing with correspondence, Hester went about her business of managing the house. But our despondency grew difficult to conceal: quite soon, we both knew I must call the entire household together and tell them what would happen.Childers, meanwhile, appeared his usual dour self, which attracted no attention at all.

But I knew what a burden he bore, and it seared my heart. The Sabbath came and went, and I knew he prayed fervently for some change of fortune; being a sceptic, I held out no such hope. On the following day, accepting that I could delay no longer, I was taking a turn in the garden before dinner when a horseman arrived. Suspecting the worst, I hurried to the courtyard to find Childers speaking with the messenger, who had dismounted.

‘It bears the royal seal,’ Childers said, somewhat hoarsely. He pointed to an important-looking packet, which the horseman had produced from inside his coat. As I approached, the man made his bow and held it forth. He was indeed wearing royal livery.

‘It comes from Windsor, sir,’ he said, ‘where His Majesty has retired after his Progress. I was ordered to make haste, and deliver it into your own hands.’

I exchanged a glance with Childers, then took the packet. Yet, being almost certain of what its contents were, I was loth to open it. Delaying shamelessly, I bade the messenger go to the kitchens and relay my instruction, that he be given food and drink. But the man shook his head.

‘I would first see you open it, sir – you, and no other. Those are my orders.’

‘Indeed?’ Now as tense as Childers was, I hesitated further, but it was no use. There in the courtyard I broke the seal, unfolded the paper and read… and read again, blinking… then looked up.

‘Master Justice?’ Childers looked aghast; naturally he assumed all was lost, until:

‘It’s good tidings,’ I said, somewhat shakily. ‘Indeed, it’s surprisingly good tidings… as welcome as they are unforeseen. We’ll go indoors…’ I turned to the messenger, and drew a breath.

‘Take your dinner now,’ I urged him. ‘And when you’re ready to leave, I’ll have a reply ready for you to carry.’

He bowed again, and when Childers pointed the