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.’
‘Leave this matter,’ Dyrick said, his voice unexpectedly quiet. To my surprise his face looked almost haggard. ‘Let us go home.’
‘No,’ I answered. I went out and closed the door.