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

also know such counsel is probably fruitless. I see how the matter has affected you. And I will aid you if I can, but I suspect it is beyond us both. The inquest report will be used in the Mason woman’s trial. Whatever transpires, I fear she’s doomed to die.’

‘And yet,’ I said, as the notion sprang up, ‘I have a mind to attend the funeral tomorrow.’ And when my friend showed surprise: ‘As another landowner, if not quite a neighbour, it would be but a matter of courtesy to pay my respects.’

The doctor said nothing; he was familiar enough with the Belstrang stubbornness.

‘I’ve not seen Cobbett for some time,’ I added. ‘And though the circumstances are not of our choosing, I’m curious to see how the man conducts himself, in the light of his dreadful loss.’

‘Well now…’ Boyd peered at me from beneath his untidy eyebrows. ‘I do believe you’ve taken up the accused’s cause already.’ And as another thought struck him: ‘I’ve no desire to go myself, if that’s the way your mind moves,’ he said with a frown. ‘I’ve said I will aid you, but-’

‘Be at ease,’ I replied. ‘Call it a whim, call it what you will, but this is something I should undertake alone.’

My friend gave a sigh. ‘Then again, I’ll admit that your curiosity is contagious,’ he said. ‘I’d be interested to know of any movement… will you inform me?’

I nodded, and rose to take my leave.

But as to the matter of attending the funeral of Susanna Cobbett alone, on my return to Thirldon I would learn that Hester was of a different opinion.

***

Supper was a quiet affair that evening, as my preoccupation with events weighed upon me. My steward Childers, far from being his usual dour self, was at pains to lighten matters, speaking of the birth of a foal that was somewhat late, but had passed without difficulty. More, the fruit trees were in health, and those in the know predicted a bounteous harvest. He continued in this vein for some time before deducing that I was barely listening, and ceased his prattle. It fell to Hester to draw me into speech.

‘You’ve been silent long enough, sir,’ she murmured, taking a sip of malmsey. ‘Would you care to tell us what kept you in Worcester all day?’

I nodded, and pushed aside my pudding; I had but small appetite. Sharing my news with those closest to me would perhaps help me review the matter, as it had often done in the past. So, after fortifying myself with a gulp of wine I gave my account, though I confess it was somewhat brief in regard to my meeting with Agnes. Having ended with my leave-taking of Boyd, I sat back and allowed my listeners to digest at leisure. Naturally enough, Childers was first to speak.

‘God in heaven, sir, this is a tale most terrible,’ he exclaimed, with a shake of his head.

‘It is,’ I agreed, with a glance at Hester.

‘Witchery, but a few miles from where we sit?’ His face clouded. ‘I haven’t heard the like in years.’

‘I don’t believe it’s anything of the sort,’ I said, somewhat curtly.

‘So, what will you do?’ He asked. And when I made no response: ‘If you care to hear my opinion, it would be most troublesome to you, if you-’

‘Indeed so,’ I broke in. ‘Doubtless you’ll counsel me as Boyd did, to withdraw from the business and leave Agnes Mason’s fate in the hands of a hostile jury, come the Midsummer Sessions. That would be prudent, would it not?’

‘A hard man, Giles Cobbett,’ Hester observed, on a sudden. ‘I knew his late wife Mary… as did my mistress.’

‘I remember,’ I said.

‘Mary Cobbett was so small,’ she continued. ‘Some called her a mouse. She feared her husband – I’ve heard it said he beat her as if she were an errant servant.’

‘I recall hearing that too,’ I said, as the memory surfaced.

‘The daughters were very alike… three peas in a pod. I expect they are still - the two that remain, that is.’

We were distracted by some chair-scraping from Childers, who stood up and excused himself. For once he was unwilling to be part of the discussion, though his disapproval was plain. But he left the table courteously, saying he had matters to attend to. Hester waited until he had gone before turning to me.

‘I intend to go to the funeral at Ebbfield tomorrow,’ I said, to forestall her. ‘Beyond that, I’ve made no firm resolve. Yet you saw the condition of Edward Mason. Had you seen his mother, you might…’ I left the sentence unfinished.

‘I’d like to come with you,’ she said. ‘If you’re willing.’

I took another drink. ‘I doubt you’d be welcome, any more than I will. Cobbett’s not a friend.’

‘Yet, despite the circumstances of Susanna’s death, I say we should both go. You as a landowner and a former Justice, I to represent my mistress. You know she would have gone.’

‘That’s true,’ I allowed.

‘And while you’re exercising your powers of observation, I might have opportunity to speak to others about the girl’s tragic demise. For there are clearly some loose ends to be tied – do I hit the mark?’

In spite of everything, I allowed myself a smile. Little escaped Hester - which thought engendered a pang of unease.

‘Well, mayhap the ride would suit you,’ I said, somewhat quickly. ‘And the mare could do with the exercise.’

‘Good, then it’s settled.’

Soon after, we rose from table, she to go to her embroidery and I to my private parlour to attend to my letters. Only then did I realise that no mention had been made of the household accounts. It was unlike Hester to forget - had I seemed so preoccupied, I wondered, that she thought it best to postpone the matter?

That