Heartstone (46 page)

‘I am not sure. I must see what Priddis has to say.'

Dyrick's face darkened. ‘Man, we are surely done. You are dragging this out—'

Hobbey raised a hand. ‘No arguments, gentlemen, please. Look, the boys have returned.'

Hugh and David had appeared in the gateway, their big greyhounds on their leashes. David carried a bag of game over his shoulder.

Abigail spoke sharply. ‘Those hounds. I've told them to take them in by the back gate—'

Then it happened so quickly that none of us had time to do more than stare in horror. Both hounds turned their long heads towards Lamkin. The little dog got to his feet. Then his greyhound's leash was out of David's hand, flying out behind the big dog as it ran straight at Lamkin with huge, loping strides. Hugh's hound pulled forward, jerking the leash from his hand too. Lamkin fled from the dogs, running towards the flower garden with unexpected speed, but few animals on earth could have outrun those greyhounds. David's hound caught the little spaniel just inside the flower garden, lowering its head then lifting it with Lamkin in its mouth. I saw little white legs struggling, then the greyhound closed its jaws and the spaniel's body jerked, blood spurting. The greyhound loped back to David and dropped Lamkin, a limp pile of blood and fur, at its master's feet. Abigail stood, hands clawing at her cheeks. A terrible sound came from her, less a scream than a wild keening howl.

David and Hugh stared down at the bloody mess on the ground, which the dogs had started to pull apart. David looked shocked. But I had seen the tiny flicker of a smile as he let go the leash. Hugh's face was composed, expressionless. I thought, was this something they both planned, or only David?

Abigail's grief-stricken wail stopped abruptly. She clenched her fists and marched across the lawn, the hem of her dress making a hissing sound on the grass. David stepped back as Abigail raised her fists and began pummelling at his head. She screamed, ‘Evil, wicked brute! Monster! Why do you torment me? You are no normal creature!'

David lifted his arms to protect his face. Hugh stepped forward and tried to pull Abigail away, but she slapped his arm down. ‘Get away!' she screamed. ‘You are as unnatural a creature as he!'

‘Abigail!' Hobbey shouted. ‘Stop, in heaven's name! It was an accident!' He was trembling. I exchanged a glance with Dyrick. For once we were in the same position, not knowing whether to intervene.

Abigail turned to us. I have seldom seen such anger and despair in a human face. ‘You fool, Nicholas!' she yelled. ‘He let go the leash, the evil thing! I have had enough, enough of all of you! You will blame me no more!'

Fulstowe walked quickly towards Abigail and took her by the arm. She turned and smacked him hard on the cheek. ‘Get off me, you! Servant! Knave!'

Hobbey had followed the steward. He seized Abigail's other arm. ‘Quiet, wife, in God's name quiet yourself!'

‘Let go!' Abigail struggled fiercely. Her hood fell off, long grey-blonde hair cascading round her shoulders. David had backed against a tree. He put his head in his hands and began to cry like a child.

Suddenly Abigail sagged between Nicholas and Fulstowe. They let her go. She raised a flushed, tear-stained face and looked straight at me. ‘You fool!' she shouted. ‘You do not see what is right in front of you!' Her voice was cracking now. She looked at Fulstowe and her husband, then at Hugh and the weeping David. ‘God give you all sorrow and shame!' she cried, then turned her back on them and ran past Dyrick and me into the house. There were servants' faces at every window. Hobbey went to David. The boy collapsed in his arms. ‘Father,' I heard David say in an agonized voice.

Hugh looked expressionlessly at the greyhounds, their long muzzles red as they growled over a scrap of bloody fur.

PORTSMOUTH

AN HOUR LATER I was sitting in Barak's room.

‘It was only a lapdog,' he said. ‘Are you sure it wasn't an accident?'

‘You didn't see David's smile when he let go the leash. Abigail is his mother, yet he seems to hate her, while Hugh treats her with indifference.'

‘Hugh's greyhound attacked the spaniel too?'

‘I think he lost hold of its leash. Abigail loved that dog. David couldn't have done anything worse to her. But what did Abigail mean, calling me a fool, saying, “You do not see what is in front of you”?
What
don't I see?'

Barak considered. ‘Something to do with Fulstowe? He is such a haughty fellow, you'd think he owned the place.'

‘Whatever it is, I don't think Dyrick knows. When Abigail shouted that out he looked completely astonished. Oh, in God's name, what is going on here?' I pulled my fingers through my hair, as though I could drag an answer from my tired brain, then groaned and stood up. ‘It is time for dinner. Jesu knows what that will be like.'

‘I'll be glad to get out of here tomorrow. Even to go to Portsmouth.'

I left him and returned to the house. The sun was starting to sink behind the tall new chimneys of the priory. A servant, supervised by Fulstowe, was wiping a patch of grass with a cloth; removing Lamkin's blood, that his mistress might not see. The steward came across.

‘Master Shardlake, I was about to look for you. Master Hobbey asks if you would see him in his study.'

HOBBEY SAT in a chair by his desk, looking sombre and pale. He had upturned his hourglass and was watching the sand trickle through. Dyrick sat opposite, frowning. I guessed the two had been conferring. Whatever the outcome it had not pleased Dyrick. For the first time I saw anxiety in his face.

‘Please sit, Master Shardlake,' Hobbey said. ‘There is something I would tell you.'

I sat. He said quietly, ‘My wife has not been truly well for years, ever since poor Emma died. She has unaccountable fears, fantasies. Please discount her outburst earlier. I confess I have concealed how - how agitated she can become.' His pale skin reddened. ‘Master Dyrick, too, was not aware of her - state of health.'

I looked at Dyrick. He frowned at the floor. Hobbey continued, ‘Abigail loves the boys. But how strange she can be sometimes - that explains Hugh's distance from her. David's, too. This afternoon - I think she really believed David set Ajax on Lamkin deliberately.'

I stared at him. Had Hobbey not seen David's smile? I turned to Dyrick. He looked away and I thought, you saw it. I asked Hobbey, ‘What do you think your wife meant, saying I was a fool for not seeing something before my eyes?'

‘I do not know. She has - such fantasies.' He sat up and spread his thin white hands wide. ‘I ask you only to believe she has never touched Hugh in anger, nor my son until this afternoon.'

I thought, that is probably true, judging by David's shock when his mother set about him; though, given what he had done, her reaction was hardly surprising. ‘She said both Hugh and David were unnatural creatures. What could she have meant?'

‘I do not know.' Hobbey looked away, and I thought, you are lying. He turned back to me, the sad look settling on his face again. ‘It is because of Abigail we mix so little with our neighbours. She does not want to see them.' He set his lips. ‘But we
will
go ahead with the hunt.'

‘I am sorry, sir, that she is so unhappy. The loss of her dog will distress her greatly.'

‘Oh yes,' Hobbey said with a touch of bitterness. ‘Lamkin had become the centre of her life.' He stood up, something heavy and reluctant in his movements. ‘Well, dinner is ready. We must eat. And preserve appearances before the servants. Abigail will not be joining us, she has gone to her room.'

IT WAS A sombre meal. Fulstowe joined us at table. For the steward of a substantial house to join the family at dinner sometimes was not unusual, but the way his eyes kept darting between Hobbey, Hugh and David, as though monitoring their behaviour, was strange. I remembered Barak saying Fulstowe acted as though he owned Hoyland Priory.

There was little conversation. I looked between them all, searching for something that was before my eyes but which I had not noticed before; there was nothing. David's eyes were red-rimmed and he looked crushed, somehow smaller. Next to him Hugh concentrated on his meal, eyes downcast and face expressionless, though I sensed the tension in him.

Towards the end of the meal David suddenly laid down his spoon and put his face in his hands. His heavy shoulders shook as he began, silently, to cry. His father reached across and took his arm. ‘It was an accident,' Hobbey said gently, as though to a small child. ‘Your mother will realize that in time. All will be well. You will see.' On David's other side, Hugh looked away. I wondered, was he jealous that Hobbey favoured David? But no, I thought, he does not care about any of them.

After dinner I went to Dyrick's room. I knocked, and his sharp voice bade me enter. He was sitting at a little desk, reading a letter by candlelight. He looked up, his thin face unwelcoming.

‘Is that the letter from your wife, Brother?' I began civilly.

‘Yes. She wants me home.'

‘That was a horrible scene earlier. The killing of the dog, and Mistress Hobbey's reaction.'

‘She didn't touch Hugh,' Dyrick answered sharply.

‘She said some strange things. Calling Hugh and David unnatural creatures, saying I could not see something before my eyes.'

He waved a hand dismissively. ‘She is deranged.'

‘Did Hobbey tell you something, Brother, before he called me in? You seem worried.'

‘I worry about my children!' he snapped. ‘But what do you know of a parent's affection?' He smacked angrily at the letter. ‘I should be at home with them and my wife, not here.' He glared at me, then said, ‘I have watched you on this journey. You are a soft man, always looking for some poor creature to rescue. You dig and dig away at this matter, though you find nothing. You would do better to cease this obstinacy and go home. Look for another widow to chase.'

I stiffened with anger. ‘What do you mean?'

‘It is common gossip around the courts that you doted on Roger Elliard's widow after he died, and would bark and bite at everyone for months after she left London.'

‘You churl, you know nothing—'

Dyrick laughed, an angry bitter laugh. ‘Ah, at last I have drawn a manly response from you! Take my advice, Brother, marry, get a family of your own to worry over like an anxious hen.'

I stepped forward then. I would have struck Dyrick but I realized that was what he wanted. He had distracted me from my questioning, and if I assaulted him he would report it to the Court of Wards and I would be in trouble. I stepped back. I said quietly, ‘I will not strike you, Brother, you are not worth it. I will leave you. But I believe you know what Abigail meant. Your client told you.'