Heartstone (37 page)

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Authors: C. J. Sansom

BOOK: Heartstone
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He looked me straight in the eye. ‘None, sir.'
A triumphant smile crossed Dyrick's face. ‘Well,' I said, ‘let us see. Tell me, what do you remember of the time when you and your sister became wards?'
‘Very little. We were so grief shot we scarcely cared what went on around us.' Despite his words Hugh's tone remained unemotional.
‘Michael Calfhill had been your tutor then for over a year. Were you close to him?'
‘I liked and respected him. I would not say we were close.'
‘Did you know that Michael tried to prevent Master Hobbey from obtaining your wardship?'
‘We knew there were some arguments. But we did not care where we went.'
‘You barely knew the Hobbeys.'
He shrugged. ‘We knew they were friends of Father's. As I said, we did not care.'
‘Did you care whether Michael Calfhill came with you?'
He considered the question for a moment. ‘He was good to us. But Emma and I thought only of each other then.' His voice wavered and he clutched his hands together. I was sorry for the pain my questions must bring, though the boy tried not to show it. He said, very quietly, ‘Emma and I could communicate by looking across a room, without words, as though we had been taken to our own private sphere of the universe.'
‘We are upsetting Master Curteys,' Dyrick said. ‘Perhaps we should adjourn—'
‘No,' Hugh said with sudden fierceness. ‘I would have this over and done.'
I nodded. ‘Then can I ask, Hugh, were you and your sister well treated by Master and Mistress Hobbey?'
‘They gave us good food and clothing, shelter and learning. But no one could replace our parents. No one could feel that loss save Emma and I. I wish people could understand that.'
‘It is indeed understandable,' Dyrick said. This deposition was going his way.
‘A last word concerning your poor sister,' I said quietly. ‘Michael Calfhill said you had a fight with David over some improper words he used to her.'
Hugh smiled tightly and humourlessly. ‘David is always saying improper words. You have met him. Once he made a coarse suggestion to Emma. I struck him for it and he learned not to do it again.'
‘Was there ever talk of Emma marrying David?'
A fierce look sparked in Hugh's eyes for a moment. ‘That would never have happened. Emma never liked him.'
‘Yet you and David are friends now?'
He shrugged. ‘We go hawking and practise archery together.'
‘Michael Calfhill's mother said Michael first taught you and your sister to pull the bow.'
‘He did. I am grateful to him for that.'
‘Yet Master Hobbey dismissed him. He says he feared impropriety between him and you.'
Hugh met my look, then shook his head slowly. ‘There was nothing improper between us.'
‘But Master Hobbey must have thought he had reason to dismiss him,' Dyrick put in sharply.
‘Perhaps Master Hobbey believed he saw something. But I have no accusations to make against Michael Calfhill.' Hugh looked at Dyrick, and now there was a challenge in his eyes.
‘Perhaps you do not care to remember,' Dyrick suggested.
‘I have nothing to remember.'
‘I think that is quite clear, Brother,' I said. ‘Now, Hugh, after Michael left you had other tutors. They seem to have come and gone.'
He shrugged. ‘One got married. One went to travel. And David did not make life easy for them.'
‘And then this Easter Michael suddenly reappeared, running up to you in the garden?'
Hugh was silent for a long moment. He looked down. ‘That I do not understand,' he said at length. ‘He appeared like a thunder-bolt. He must have been hiding among the headstones in the old cemetery, watching David and I shoot our arrows. He pulled at my arm and demanded I come away with him, said I did not belong here.'
‘Master Hobbey says he told you he loved you as no other,' I said quietly.
The boy looked up, challenge in his eyes again. ‘I do not remember him saying that.' He seeks to protect Michael, I thought. Is he speaking the truth or not?
‘You were upset,' Dyrick said. ‘Maybe you did not hear.' He smiled encouragingly. Hugh stared back at Dyrick with a cold dislike that discomfited even him for a moment. Then Dyrick said lightly, ‘Master Hobbey tells us you would go for a soldier?'
‘Truly I would.' Hugh stared at him, emotion entering his voice. ‘Less than ten miles from here our ships and men make ready to fight. What Englishman would not wish to serve in this hour? I am young, but I am as good an archer as any. But for my wardship I would serve.'
‘You forget, Master Hugh, you are responsible for a large estate. A gentleman with responsibilities.'
‘Responsibilities?' Hugh laughed bitterly. ‘To woods and badgers and foxes? I have no interest in those, sir. David has his family to consider. But I have none.'
‘Come,' Dyrick said reprovingly, ‘you are part of the Hobbey family.'
Hugh looked at me. ‘The family I loved are all dead. The Hobbeys -' he hesitated - ‘can never replace those I lost.'
‘But you are young,' Dyrick said, ‘and quite rich. In time you will marry and have your own family.'
Hugh continued to look at me. ‘I would rather defend my country.'
Dyrick inclined his head. ‘Then I say, young man, thank heaven for the Court of Wards, and Master Hobbey's authority over you. Do you not agree, Brother Shardlake?'
‘I applaud your honourable nature, Master Hugh,' I said quietly. ‘But war is a matter of blood and death.'
‘Do you think I do not know that?' he answered scornfully.
There was silence for a moment. Then Dyrick asked, ‘Are there any more questions?'
I repeated my formula. ‘Not for now.' Hugh rose, bowed, and walked from the room. Dyrick looked at me triumphantly. Hugh had not accused Michael, but neither had he accused the Hobbeys
of anything, anything at all.
AFTERWARDS I invited Barak to my room to talk. ‘Well,' he began, ‘so much for our main witness.'
I paced up and down, frowning. ‘I don't understand it. Hobbey and Fulstowe were practised, but Hugh—'
‘It was almost as though he did not care.'
‘Yet he did not endorse what Hobbey said about Michael. Neither that Michael behaved improperly when he was a boy, nor that he said he loved him this spring.'
‘He said nothing against the Hobbeys. You can see he thinks David a fool, but who could think otherwise?'
‘Why does he care nothing for his estates?'
Barak looked at me seriously. ‘Maybe he just never got over his parents and sister dying.'
‘After all this time? And if he despises David, why spend so much time with him?'
‘There is no one else his age here. We don't choose our families, nor our adopted ones.'
‘There is more to it than that,' I insisted. ‘He bit down hard on his feelings when I mentioned Michael.'
‘Maybe he is trying to protect his memory. For Mistress Calfhill's sake.'
‘He barely knew her.' I looked at him. ‘I swear he is hiding something. They all are. It is just a feeling, but a powerful one.'
Barak nodded slowly. ‘I feel it too. But if Hugh will make no complaint, there is nothing to be done.'
‘I must think. Let us go for a walk after dinner. I'll come to your room.'
‘Meantime I suppose I'll have Feaveryear arguing every dot and comma of the deposition again.'
Barak left for his quarters, and I lay down to rest. Yet my mind was too agitated for me to settle. After a while I decided to go and see if dinner was ready. A little way up the corridor a door stood open. It was dark within, the shutters must be drawn. I heard quiet voices, Nicholas and Abigail.
‘He will be gone soon,' Nicholas was saying in impatient tones.
‘I can't stand the sight of his bent back.' Abigail sounded utterly weary. ‘And that snarling cur Dyrick is loathsome. And I still don't want to have the hunt.'
‘Wife, I cannot stand this isolation any longer,' Hobbey replied angrily. ‘I tell you, it is safe.'
‘We are never safe.'
I started as a little face appeared at the bottom of the doorway. Lamkin came out and waddled towards me, tail wagging. I stepped quickly back into my room, quietly closing the door on the dog. I stood there, thinking hard.
ALTHOUGH the birds taken by the boys were served in more rich sauces from the Hobbey kitchen, dinner was a miserable meal. Abigail was last to arrive, pale and obviously still in pain from her headache. As she entered, Fulstowe, positioned behind Hobbey's chair again, bowed. Dyrick and I stood and Hobbey half-rose, but neither Hugh nor David troubled to rise for her. It was an insult to the mistress of the house, but Abigail seemed hardly to notice. She had taken no trouble over her appearance today, her long grey-blonde hair drooping from the back of her hood. She said nothing during the meal, picking at her food and wincing at the clatter of plates. Hobbey engaged Dyrick in talk about the conversion of the nunnery. He tried to draw David into the discussion, but the boy seemed to have no interest in the house. I saw Hobbey look at him both lovingly and sorrowfully. Hugh sat opposite me. I took the opportunity to lean forward and speak quietly. ‘I am sorry if my enquiries stirred sad memories, Master Hugh. Unfortunately asking difficult questions is a lawyer's lot.'
‘I understand, Master Shardlake,' he said sadly. He hesitated, then added, ‘I promised to let you see my copy of
Toxophilus
. I will have a servant fetch it to your room. I would welcome another view on it.'
‘Thank you. That is kind.'
I saw David had been listening to us, caught a strange look on his heavy features. He met my eye and said loudly, ‘Where were you and your servant coming back from earlier, Master Shardlake? Was it the village?'
‘Yes.'
Hobbey gave me a sharp look.
‘Did you see any of those jumped-up serfs?' David asked with a laugh.
‘We just went for a walk.'
Ursula, the old servant, was reaching forward just then to pick up an empty dish. David leaned back and his shoulder caught her arm, making her drop the dish on the table with a clatter. Abigail wailed at the noise and put her hands to her ears. ‘Will you be careful?' she screeched. ‘You foolish booby!'
‘Abigail,' Nicholas said warningly. A smile of cruel amusement crossed Fulstowe's face, instantly suppressed. Abigail glared at her husband, then rose from the table and left the room.
‘I am sorry,' Nicholas said quietly. ‘My wife is unwell.'
I looked at the boys. Hugh's face was expressionless again. David looked crushed.

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