‘Did you think then that romance might be in the air?’
‘It was the last thought to cross my mind. She was twenty-four years old and plain. She had nothing to recommend her to a man like Gideon.’
‘Except her money and the fact that her father was a goldsmith in West Cheap,’ Philip said, unable to resist the temptation to say his piece yet again.
‘Philip! Hold your tongue!’ Jeanne was before me with her admonition. ‘Nevertheless,’ she went on, smiling apologetically at Master Ford, ‘you must admit that there is some truth in what my husband says.’
‘Well . . .’ Won over by her charm, the apothecary wavered. ‘Maybe Gideon was a little flattered at being singled out by a woman of standing and fortune. But I’d be willing to swear to his sincerity when he told me that he was extremely fond of her. He said she had a sweet and pious nature, and that in his estimation that was of far greater importance than her lack of physical beauty.’
I could see that Philip was about to make some jibe or other, but Jeanne forestalled him.
‘Indeed, I must confess to feeling precisely the same way when I married my husband,’ she said, causing Philip’s jaw to drop open in astonishment at such an unexpected broadside. But her remark, cruel as it may have been, had the desired effect of ensuring his silence.
I carefully avoided looking at Adela, who was shaking with suppressed laughter, and kept my eyes fixed firmly upon the apothecary, who had obviously seen nothing amusing in Jeanne Lamprey’s remark.
‘Did you remain friendly with Master Bonifant after his marriage?’ I asked.
‘We were always on speaking terms,’ the apothcary answered slowly. ‘If we met one another in the street, we exchanged more than the time of day. Gideon would enquire after my health, and I after his and that of Mistress Bonifant. And in the first year or so succeeding the wedding, he would occasionally visit my shop, rather than the one in Gudrun Lane, if he or his wife needed any medicaments. But, understandably, as the years went by, those visits grew less and less until they ceased altogether. Latterly, I saw nothing of him unless, by chance, we met out of doors.’
‘Why do you say “understandably”?’ I wanted to know.
Master Ford shrugged and once again regarded me as though I were slightly simple.
‘Because,’ he explained slowly and clearly, ‘Gideon became a part of the Babcary household. He was learning the goldsmith’s craft from his father-in-law and had no more interest in the apothecary’s trade. I didn’t blame him. He didn’t wish to be constantly reminded of his lowlier past.’
‘Did it surprise you that he and Isolda had no children?’
‘No, it didn’t!’ Master Ford exploded angrily. ‘I never thought upon the subject. It’s God’s will that many couples remain childless. It was His will that my dear wife and I should have no progeny. Really, Master Chapman, your curiosity gets the better of you and I think, if you and your friends will excuse me, that I shall be going.’ He rose from the bench and made courteous bows to both Adela and to Jeanne. ‘Thank you for a very fine dinner, but now I must be on my way.’
He was gone before I could do anything to stop him. I heard his voice upraised in the passageway as he took his leave of Reynold Makepeace.
‘Well,’ remarked Philip with great satisfaction, ‘you can’t pretend that it was
my
fault Master Ford went away. That was entirely your doing, Roger! You asked one question too many as you always do. That long nose of yours is still getting you into trouble.’
I nodded in vexation. ‘I should have guessed that he and Mistress Ford were childless when there was no mention of a son or daughter.’
‘You weren’t to know,’ Adela soothed, patting my arm. ‘So! Did your questions yield anything apart from the fact that Master Bonifant had been married before?’
I considered her question. ‘Oh, I think so. I know now that Gideon was a pious, God-fearing man––’
‘Or passed as one,’ Philip sneered, his experience of life before he met and married Jeanne not having made him think very highly of his fellow creatures in general.
‘Or passed as one, as you say,’ I agreed. ‘And he certainly showed very little gratitude to the man who had given him both shelter and employment when he was destitute in London. Master Ford should surely have been treated as a friend after the marriage put Gideon on an equal footing with him.’ I sighed. ‘But apart from his accusation against his wife and her cousin, I know as yet of no other reason why anyone should wish to murder Gideon Bonifant.’
W
e spent the rest of the day in the company of the Lampreys, sitting for a while longer, after Master Ford’s departure, over our ale at the Voyager, and then, when the weather improved still further and the afternoon became dry and bright, we went for a walk at Adela’s request.
‘For I shall be nothing but a bladder of wind if I sit here any longer,’ she protested, ‘like one of those footballs that boys kick around in the streets.’ She eyed me with mock severity as she rose to her feet. ‘Here I am, barely three months pregnant, and already this child is causing me more discomfort than Nicholas did in nine. He’s going to take after his father, a restless soul.’
‘As long as he isn’t as nosy,’ Philip said, and I forced myself to laugh, although I could feel my hackles rising. My old friend was becoming a regular source of irritation to me.
We walked the length of Walbrook and down Dowgate Hill to the Baltic Wharf, where the great foreign ships from that northerly region of Europe drop anchor near the Steelyard to unload their cargoes of timber and furs and dried fish. There were plenty of people about, some still dressed in their church-going clothes, ready to be pleased by the unexpected and fragile burst of good weather.
A couple standing near to us on the dockside, and talking loudly enough for the woman’s part in the conversation to be easily overheard, had apparently made the journey to Saint Stephen’s church at Westminster that morning in order to see the little Duke and Duchess of York at Mass. It seemed, however, that the newly-wed children had been the two persons of least interest to the lady, whose discourse was all of fashion and of what had been worn by which dame of consequence, with disparaging remarks falling as thick as leaves in autumn – much to the fascination of my wife and Jeanne Lamprey who had edged closer to the couple in order not to miss a word.
The speaker, although she was at present swathed in the concealing folds of a dark woollen cloak, plainly considered herself enough a woman of the
beau monde
to pass such strictures, and oozed self-satisfaction. Her companion, whose back was towards me, also seemed happy with her company if his over-zealous attentions were anything to judge by. From where I was standing, I could just make out his companion’s features beneath her hood: a handsome, world-weary face, the thin cheeks too pale even for the January cold, and undoubtedly daubed with the white lead used by the more sophisticated women of our society to conceal the effects of sun and wind on their complexions.
Eventually, Philip and I, weary of contemplating the ships, gestured to our still eavesdropping wives that we should move on and, as they reluctantly obeyed our summons, the couple also decided that they had remained stationary long enough. The man swung round, offering the woman his arm, and I came face to face with Christopher Babcary.
‘Master Chapman!’ He greeted me without enthusiasm, but, at the same time, was obviously gratified to be seen with such a companion. He made no effort to introduce the lady, however, and was beginning to walk away when he paused and turned back. ‘We shall meet again tomorrow then, in West Cheap, unless, that is, you’ve changed your mind.’ Abruptly, he released himself from the woman’s clasp and stepped closer to me, lowering his voice so that only I could hear his words. ‘And wouldn’t it be wiser if you did so? All these questions can do no good: they only stir up trouble for Isolda. She’s had enough to bear since Gideon’s death, with all the hints and whispers and rumours circulating amongst our neighbours.’ He suddenly turned aggressive and added violently, ‘Leave us alone, Chapman, or you may live to regret your interference.’
He spun on his heel and rejoined his companion who had been waiting for him with ill-concealed impatience. She said something to him that I could not catch, but from his hangdog expression, it was plainly a reprimand.
‘Bad-tempered harpy!’ Philip grunted sourly, staring after their retreating backs. ‘But there! If the lad fancies that sort of woman, what can he expect? Who is he? One of the Babcary family I should guess.’
‘You would guess correctly,’ I answered, also watching the couple’s progress towards Dowgate Hill, the lady still visibly incensed and refusing, with much head tossing, to take her escort’s hand. ‘That’s Christopher Babcary, the goldsmith’s nephew.’
Adela came to stand beside me, slipping her hand into the crook of my arm.
‘So that’s the man accused by Gideon Bonifant of cuckolding him, is it?’ she enquired, having overheard my answer. ‘Well, if that’s the kind of woman young Master Babcary prefers, I can’t imagine, at least not from your description of Isolda, that he would entertain anything but a cousinly affection for her.’ My wife went on thoughtfully, ‘Of course, that doesn’t mean to say that Gideon was wrong in his assumption that his wife was betraying him with another man. He might simply have picked on the wrong person. You’ll have to bear that in mind when pursuing your investigations, Roger.’
I bit my tongue and maintained my composure with an effort. First, I had been forced to endure Philip’s jibes about my ‘nosiness’, and now here was Adela telling me how to conduct my business, instructing me in what I should do well to remember. It only needed Jeanne Lamprey to add her mite for my cup of humiliation to run over.
Jeanne was busy keeping an eye on the weather, which was changing yet again, black clouds piling up the Thames from the east, bringing with them a freshening wind and a smell of sleet and rain in the air.
‘We’d better make for shelter,’ she decided, pulling up the hood of her cloak and holding it firmly together under her chin. ‘Adela shouldn’t be out in a storm, Roger, not in her delicate condition.’
I made no answer, except to put an arm around my wife. It seemed that I was not to escape advice on how to be either a solver of mysteries or a good husband, and I found myself looking forward to the morrow when I could once more be my own man.
We parted from the Lampreys on the corner of Bucklersbury, Philip having promised to fetch Adela early next morning and to escort her to their shop. There, in return for all their kindness, she would spend the time before dinner helping Jeanne to sort and mend the old clothes collected by Philip over the past few days and now ready for reselling.
‘And after we’ve eaten,’ Jeanne said, reaching up to kiss Adela’s cheek, ‘provided that Philip can manage on his own for a while, and if you feel fit enough, I’ll take you to see the wild animals in the Tower.’
Adela thanked her, returning the kiss, and a few moments later, we were hurrying along Bucklersbury, making for the inn as fast as we could, the icy spears of rain already beginning to sting our faces. Once within the comfort of our room, we lit the candles and closed the outer shutters against the cold, shaking the dampness from our cloaks and hanging them from the wall pegs to dry.
‘And now,’ said Adela, seating herself on the edge of the bed and eyeing me accusingly, ‘what was Christopher Babcary whispering to you on the quayside, there? And you needn’t think to lie to me, either, Roger. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I could see by the expression on his face that he was giving you some kind of warning.’
‘Not a warning exactly,’ I muttered. ‘But I admit he was trying to persuade me to change my mind. He thinks that my questioning could do Mistress Bonifant more harm than good. And he’s right, of course, if she should prove to be guilty of her husband’s murder.’
‘Was that all he said?’ My wife regarded me with her clear, unwavering gaze.
I sighed. I had discovered very early on in my married life that it was almost impossible to lie to Adela. ‘No, he advised me to leave the family alone or I might live to regret my interference.’
‘But you won’t take his advice, of course.’ It was a statement, not a question.
‘My dearest, I can’t,’ I protested, sitting beside her on the bed and putting my arms around her. ‘I can’t possibly disoblige the Duke.’
‘Can’t or won’t?’ she asked, but immediately turned to plant a kiss on my lips. ‘Forgive me, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what’s got into me lately. It must be my condition, I’m allowing myself to become a prey to odd humours and fancies and doing what I said I’d never do. I’m interfering.’
I held her closer, murmuring endearments. I knew that I was at fault, that I should have refused the Duke’s commission. I ought not to be abandoning her in a strange city, dependent for amusement on two comparative strangers. But I was as selfish then as I am today (or, at least, so my children tell me). Once presented with a mystery, I could no more leave it unresolved than I could grow wings and fly.
The next morning, after breakfast, I saw Adela off to Cornhill in the company of Philip Lamprey, and then, with an uncontrollable lightening of the heart and a spring in my step, set out myself for West Cheap.
The sky was leaden grey, there was a sprinkling of snow on the ground and the wind was bitter, but nothing could diminish my spirits at the sheer pleasure of being on my own again, of being my own master, of being able to order my own actions exactly as I chose. The world about me was already humming with activity: church bells were tolling, street cleaners shovelled yesterday’s steaming refuse into their carts, traders took down shutters and opened up their shops, pedlars and piemen shouted their wares, lawyers, in their striped gowns, hurried past on their way to Saint Paul’s. As I was caught up and borne along on this tide of humanity, I was prodded into the realisation of just how good it was to be alive, and I thought with sudden poignancy of those prisoners, like the Duke of Clarence, languishing in prison, many under sentence of death. But it also reminded me of how wrong it is to rob another human being of the life that God has given to him or her; the life that is our pathway to heaven.