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

‘Sir, I’m all a-quiver. What’s the message? Tell me now!’

In truth, I was still taking it in. Only minutes ago, I had feared my world was soon to collapse; now, however… I took a breath, and faced him.

‘It seems I am to be knighted,’ I said. ‘The King bids me come to Windsor - and bring my wife.’ And when the other stared, I made haste to reassure him.

‘As for Thirldon, you may take heart – as may we all. By His Majesty’s good grace and favour, in reward for certain services rendered in the matter of… I’ll not quote the entire passage. In short, he’ll make other plans with regard to my estate, which he gives me leave to enjoy in perpetuity.’

I paused, then added: ‘What a generous monarch… good grace and favour. Do you mark that?’ And a smile came upon me then, as relief seemed to fill the very air about us. Childers, however, was almost speechless.

‘Bring your wife?’ He echoed vaguely. ‘How will that fadge?’

‘Come inside,’ I said. ‘And summon Mistress Hester, if you will. I suspect we’ll all need a strong drink.’

And at last, the tension seemed to drain from Childers, as if seeping into the very cobbles beneath his feet. A smile appeared; he heaved a sigh, then nodded. As we began to walk, he paused and lifted his face to the sky.

‘The Great Comet disappeared some days ago,’ he said. ‘I did think that our troubles might pass with it, though in truth I was losing hope. But I was wrong… and I swear, I’ll never lose hope again as long as I’m alive.’

Whereupon I patted his arm, and led the way indoors.

TWENTY-ONE

My plans were soon in train to ride to Windsor, where I would become Sir Robert Belstrang. It was a time of joy, even as October arrived with wind and showers of rain. And on a sudden there seemed a great deal to do: letters to write, people to inform, and not least a new suit of clothes to be ordered. In some haste, I called my tailor out from Worcester and spent a fraught hour or two agreeing styles as well as terms, with Hester in attendance. By the time the man had gone I was irritable, but calmed myself with a cup of Rhenish in my parlour.

And here at last, I made my proposal.

It had been on my mind for days, ever since the King had kindly invited me to bring my wife with me on the day of ceremony. Several other men were to be knighted along with me: the usual practice. How many of them had chosen to purchase their titles, of course, I could not know – again, a common practice. Hence, I confess to a degree of satisfaction in knowing that I had earned my reward, for services to the Crown. Clearly, Sir Samuel Sandys had been as good as his word and spoken well of me, with regard to what had occurred down in the Forest of Dean, and at Bristol and thereafter.

I had emerged from a nightmare: one filled with danger and devilry - or merely plain greed and deception. Such comprise the daily fare of magistrates, and I suspect they always will… but I digress. I must come to the last part of my tale, which warms my heart as I relate it.

There was never any doubt as to whether Hester would agree to becoming the future Lady Belstrang. She had never touched upon the topic, being most loyal to her late mistress; yet in my heart, I knew Margaret would have been glad. When I finally spoke to her alone, she accepted with good grace. She made no remark about the years she had waited to be asked – nor about the gossip that had swirled about us both during that time.

And so, in the end it was a matter of relief to us both. Moreover, although we knew our wedding must wait a while, I insisted upon her accompanying me to Windsor as my bride-to-be. Let tongues wag as they may, the future Sir Robert said. Meanwhile, the news was soon out at Thirldon, and not a soul was displeased - or even surprised very much. Whatever had been said behind closed doors, I chose not to think on.

But there is one matter of great importance yet to relate. On the very evening before our leaving to take the long ride to Windsor – the best part of a hundred miles, a journey we would break at Oxford – I received a letter from Ombersley, a few miles away. Knowing it to be from the Sir Samuel Sandys, I half-expected to be summoned as a witness in a trial, perhaps that of Francis Mountford.

But I was mistaken.

We were at supper - Hester, Childers and I – when the message was brought by my servant Lockyer. In some irritation at being distracted from a meal of celebration, I took a fortifying drink before opening it. Yet, when I finally perused the elegantly-written letter, I was confounded.

‘Nothing unfortunate I hope, Master Justice?’ Childers enquired warily. His resolve to be of better cheer these days, I might say, had proved as fleeting as I expected. With raised eyebrows, I dropped the letter on the table and met his gaze.

‘Not at all,’ I replied. ‘Indeed, I might say it’s most fortunate, save that fortune has played but a small part in it.’ And when both he and Hester waited in anticipation, I laid it forth.

‘You know that Matthew Standish left Worcester somewhat precipitately,’ I said. ‘Hence, I am invited to return to the magistrate’s bench in his place… temporarily, of course. It seems there’s been correspondence between the Chief Justice and the High Sheriff,