Wheel of Fate (21 page)

‘Father!' I exclaimed thankfully. ‘You haven't by any chance seen Celia pass this way any time today, have you? She's been missing from the Arbour since this morning, after breakfast.'

He smiled tolerantly. ‘She's a grown woman, Roger. There's probably a perfectly simple explanation for her absence. But yes, now you ask, I think I may have seen her earlier today, before dinner in fact. She was wearing that blue cloak of hers and going towards the city.'

TWELVE

I
caught my breath.

‘You saw her? You're sure of that?'

‘I'm not absolutely certain, no. But as sure as I can be. As I said, she was walking towards the Bishop's Gate. I was just on my way to ring the bell for sext, or I would have tried to attract her attention. That's how I know it was before dinner.'

I frowned. ‘I thought sext was at noon.'

‘Not in the summer,' he reminded me gently. ‘The office is said earlier once the warmer days arrive.'

‘I'd forgotten,' I answered vaguely, my mind only half on what the priest was saying. I laid a hand on his arm and shook it. ‘Can you recall if she was alone, Father, or was there someone with her?'

Sir Berowne shook his head. ‘Now that I couldn't tell you. There were so many people abroad this morning. What with it being May Day and then folk crowding into the city to hear the Duke of Gloucester's proclamation at Paul's Cross as well as all the usual traffic of a normal day, the track was very crowded. Mistress Godslove might have been accompanied, it's true. There was a man close on her heels, but that could just have been coincidence. I've told you, the roadway was busy. Even busier than normal. But for sweet heaven's sake, my son, why are you so concerned? At the risk of repeating myself, Celia is a grown woman; even, some might think, a little long in the tooth. Oh, don't misunderstand me.' He threw up his hands, grimy as always from digging in his garden. ‘An attractive enough woman, but long past the age when she should be wed. And she's not a prisoner. Surely, she can come and go as she pleases?'

Impatiently, I pulled him into the side of the track where we were less likely to impede the progress of others. We had already given offence to more than one person in a hurry and caused at least three carts to swerve to avoid us.

‘You don't understand, Father,' I said. ‘Celia went out without leaving word for anyone as to where she was going or who she was going to visit, and has not been seen since early this morning. She joined the children in the garden, just after breakfast, to play hide-and-seek . . .'

‘Oh, was that all the noise I heard, then?' my companion interrupted with an air of enlightenment. ‘I had occasion to visit one of my parishioners who lives further up the track, a poor childless widow who has been unwell, and as I passed the Arbour I could hear the children laughing and shouting. Such a merry sound I thought it, and just what that old house needs, so sombre and gloomy as it always seems. And good for Mistress Celia, I should—'

I cut in ruthlessly on these happy reflections. ‘For heaven's sake, man, Celia hasn't returned from wherever it was she was going and it's nearly suppertime! Her sisters are frantic with worry after all that's occurred these past two years. They are beginning to believe that something terrible has happened to her. So try to remember, I beg of you, what exactly you saw this morning.'

The blue eyes widened in sudden comprehension. ‘Dear me! Dear me! How very stupid of me not to have thought of that. But do you know, Roger, I've never really believed in this mysterious stranger who is trying to kill them all, one by one. Nobody has that sort of time and patience. People's sense of injury cools, you know. All right!' Once again he flung up his hands, but this time in a gesture of submission. ‘I accept that the Godslove family believe it, so naturally they are worried about Celia's absence. But I'm afraid I've told you all that I can regarding my sighting of her this morning. There was a man behind her, it's true, near enough to make me think that he could have been accompanying her. Then again, he could have been a stranger walking a little too close, in a hurry, trying to get past. Why? Do you think there might have been someone with her?'

I explained about Adam and what he had overheard. Father Berowne remained unimpressed.

‘There you are, then! Somebody came for Celia's help. It was urgent and all she had time to do was to grab a cloak. She probably thought it wouldn't take long and that she would be home again in time for dinner. But, as I know from my own experience, these cries for assistance are not always as simple and straightforward as they seem. She'll be back eventually telling you all not to be so foolish.'

But plausible as his words sounded, and much as they chimed with my own ideas on the subject, I wasn't entirely convinced. A nagging worry was beginning to eat away at my common sense.

‘Can you recollect anything at all about this man?' I persisted.

The priest sighed and shook his head. ‘No, nothing,' he said, ‘except that he wasn't young and was smartly dressed.'

My thoughts went at once to Adrian Jollifant, but after a moment's consideration, I rejected the possibility. Coming from Cheapside, he would hardly have travelled on foot. And the same reasoning applied to the doctor. Indeed, we knew for certain that Roderick Jeavons had been on horseback, so where would he have stabled his mount? And why would he have left it behind? No, the whole idea was ridiculous. No one had been following Celia, who was about some business of her own.

I smiled wanly and clapped Sir Berowne on the shoulder. ‘Just one last question, Father. Can you tell me the names of any persons hereabouts who might ask for Celia's help if they were in trouble of any sort? Mistress Rokeswood did mention that Celia occasionally took food to one or two of the families near the Gate.'

The priest seemed vaguely surprised to hear this and said austerely he was unaware that the Godslove family had ever assisted any of the poor in the vicinity. I think it was the first time I realized that, taken as a whole, he did not like them very much. Until then, I had thought him their friend – and no doubt there were some members he preferred to the others – but his tone of voice was suddenly cool and even a little hostile. He must have been aware of it himself because he became anxious to make amends.

‘I'm not saying that they don't,' he added hurriedly. ‘It's just that I've never heard it mentioned.'

I wanted to reassure him that I didn't care for the Godsloves myself and could hardly blame him if he didn't either. They were not, in my estimation, a lovable family, but somehow I was unable to say the words. I was a guest in their house and they were, however tenuously, related to my wife. So I thanked him for his help and said I would make enquiries in the cottages and at the Bedlam and St Mary's Hospital before returning to the Arbour to tell them what he had told me.

As I turned away, I heard my name shouted yet again and saw Oswald Godslove riding like a madman towards me. He drew rein and fairly fell out of the saddle, his face white, his limbs shaking. He clutched at my sleeve.

‘Celia,' he croaked. ‘One of the girls came to find me at the courts. Says she's missing.' He could barely get the words out. ‘S-say it's not true!'

‘I'm afraid it is,' I said, supporting him about the waist. ‘She hasn't been seen since this morning, but we don't know for certain that any harm has befallen her. Indeed,' I went on bracingly, ‘it's more than probable she'll turn up again soon, alive and well.'

Oswald made no answer, and, with a little moan, burst into tears.

The priest aimed an ineffectual pat at his back, missed, then stood looking at me, faintly embarrassed. I tightened my grip on Oswald and urged him to complete his journey.

‘Your sisters will be glad to see you,' I said. ‘They'll tell you all that's happened. Meantime, I'm going to make a few enquiries of my own, but I'll join you at the Arbour just as soon as I've done so. Pull yourself together, man.' Oswald's noisy sobs were beginning to attract unwelcome attention. ‘Father Berowne and I are both agreed that there is probably nothing to worry about. Celia may have gone on an errand of mercy and will return of her own accord shortly. But, as I said, Clemency and Sybilla will explain everything to you.'

Oswald knuckled his eyes like a child and, also like a child, turned on me viciously, transmuting his fear into anger and venting it on my innocent head.

‘Of course you're not worried! What's Celia to you? Or him?'

He flung out a hand, catching the priest a painful blow on the side of his jaw. I wondered if it were as accidental as it appeared to be, and I saw the same thought flicker at the back of Father Berowne's eyes, but his expression of concern didn't alter, nor did he raise a hand to rub his face.

‘You're overwrought, Master Godslove. Go home,' he said, adding his voice to mine. ‘While Master Chapman, here, knocks on a door or two, allow me to walk as far as the Arbour with you. I'll lead the horse. Short as the distance is, you're in no fit state to ride.'

This kindly offer was spurned, not in words but in action. Oswald flung himself back into the saddle and galloped off up the track, at a pace which forced all oncoming traffic out of his path, with a total disregard for anyone else's convenience.

The priest sighed. ‘We must make allowances for a very frightened man,' he said magnanimously, at the same time tenderly feeling his jaw. ‘Now, away you go, my son, and make your enquiries. And God grant that you discover something useful as to where Mistress Celia might have gone, or even where she is, and put her poor family out of their misery.'

An hour later, footsore and weary, hoarse from asking the same question over and over again, and depressed from receiving the same negative answer each and every time, I returned to the Arbour no wiser as to Celia's whereabouts than when I set out. I did not see Father Berowne, but I heard vespers being sung as I passed St Botolph's church, a reminder that I had been lax in my attendance of late. I couldn't remember the last occasion on which I had been to confession.

As I passed the almshouses, I overtook a small, weary figure trudging up the road and recognized it as one of the Godsloves' kitchen maids; the one, presumably, who had been sent to Westminster to fetch Oswald home. I offered her my arm to which she clung gratefully.

‘Couldn't your master have taken you up behind him?' I asked indignantly.

The girl looked shocked. ‘Oh, no, sir! He'd never do that. He would never overburden his horses, and besides—'

‘Besides what?'

‘Well, he wouldn't want to be seen with the likes of me, now would he, sir? Him a smart lawyer and all.' She turned her head to look at me, taking in my brown hose and green tunic with its silver gilt buttons, and finally my hat with its fake jewel on the upturned brim. ‘And you're looking very fine, sir. Are you sure you don't mind being seen with me?'

‘Of course not! You're a very pretty girl.' I felt suddenly angry with Oswald and was made sharply aware of how much I disliked the man. Perhaps, after all, it was not impossible that someone, somewhere, wanted to harm him and his.

‘Is there any news of Mistress Celia?' my companion asked as we left the houses behind and rounded the bend into open countryside, the Arbour, set in its rambling garden, coming into view.

‘No, nothing, I'm afraid. I've been making enquiries around the Bishop's Gate in the hope that she was visiting one of the cottages there, but no one's seen her. I even asked at the hospital and the Bedlam, but to no avail. Everybody knows her by sight, of course, but very few know her to speak to. Mistress Rokeswood said she took soup and bread to the poorer families, but I don't think it was true.'

The girl shook her head. ‘I've never seen her do so. Master Godslove wouldn't let her, for one thing. He'd be too frightened she'd catch something nasty off one of 'em. He's that fond of Mistress Celia, you wouldn't believe.' There was nothing in her tone to suggest she found this circumstance in any way odd, and she went on, ‘I suppose it's because of that terrible secret they all share.'

I caught my breath. ‘What secret?' I asked, my voice coming out as a croak.

Our feet had been dragging for the past few yards, and now we both came to a halt. The girl turned her head and regarded me with concern.

‘Are you getting the rheum, sir? You really ought to be careful. You only got up out o' your sickbed yesterday. You shouldn't be running about like this.'

‘No, no! I'm quite all right,' I answered hurriedly. ‘What terrible secret do they all share?'

‘Sir?'

‘You just said that Master Godslove and his family share a terrible secret. What secret?'

She laughed, taking my arm once more as we slowly resumed our walk.

‘Lord, sir, if I knew that it wouldn't be a secret, now would it?'

‘Well, then—' I was beginning impatiently, but she interrupted me.

‘It was just something I overheard once when nobody knew I was by. Mistress Rokeswood had sent me to fetch a bowl she needed from the big cupboard in the dining parlour, and the window was open into the garden. Master Oswald and Mistress Clemency were outside, talking about the attack on Master Martin. Him that was killed when he was set on by footpads,' she added by way of explanation.

‘Yes, yes! I know about that! Go on, girl! Go on!'

She eyed me curiously, and I could see her wondering if she ought to say anything further. But she continued, ‘Well, Mistress Clemency was saying she thought the attack hadn't been footpads at all. Leastways, not real ones. She thought they were people who'd been paid to murder Master Martin, and that someone was trying to kill the lot of them, one at a time. Master Oswald wouldn't have it. Said she was talking nonsense. Who'd want to do such a thing, he said. And why?'