‘That is quite right. It would be what is called a Ravishment of Wards,’ I said quietly. ‘But Master Hobbey still wanted to tie her share of your father’s lands to his family.’
‘Emma and I made plans.’ Anger entered Hugh’s voice. ‘If Master and Mistress Hobbey persisted with their pressure we would threaten to take them to their precious Court of Wards. Master Calfhill had researched the law, he told us that although boys cannot come out of wardship till they are twenty-one, girls can inherit their lands at fourteen.’
‘Yes, unless they refuse a suitable marriage.’
‘A suitable marriage. We planned to wait a few more months till Emma was fourteen, then we would take her lands, sell them, and run away together.’
‘Did you tell Master Calfhill your plans?’
‘No. Perhaps we should have trusted him,’ Hugh added sadly.
‘It would have been complicated, you would have needed a lawyer.’
Hugh gave a high-pitched, bitter laugh. It startled me. ‘It was never put to the test, was it? My sister died, and then it did not matter any more.’ His face twitched again; for a second I thought he would cry but his expression settled into blankness again. I thought, if only Michael Calfhill and Reverend Broughton had known of David’s condition before the wardship was granted. Hugh sighed, then scratched his chest in sudden irritation.
‘I hope you do not have fleas,’ I said. ‘I brought some back from Portsmouth, but thought I had got rid of them.’
‘No, I have more scars there, they itch.’ He scratched again, but carefully.
‘Do you wear Emma’s cross there?’ I asked gently.
He looked up. ‘No, Master Shardlake, I keep it in my drawer. I find it hard to look at.’
‘That is sad.’
‘Perhaps you should not have brought it. No, I still wear my heartstone. You are right, I do not love the Hobbeys. You are good at getting people to talk, sir. But if I cannot go to war, then I will stay here. That is my wish, and you may say so to the Court of Wards.’
‘Why, Hugh?’
He spread his long-fingered hands, gave another bitter laugh. ‘Where else would I go? I am used to the life here, and I do not want a court battle with Master Hobbey. In three years I can sue out my livery and leave.’
‘And then what will you do? Go for a soldier?’
‘Perhaps.’
‘If I can help you then, Hugh, you will find me at Lincoln’s Inn.’
He smiled sadly again. ‘Thank you, Master Shardlake.’ He looked at me intently. ‘In three years – yes, then I may need a friend in the world beyond this place.’
SOME BIRDS flapping their wings in one of the trees surrounding the glade brought me back to myself. I stood and walked back through the wood to a big clearing; there were about thirty people there. Hobbey and the huntsman Avery, together with Fulstowe and Sir Luke Corembeck and two other well-dressed middle-aged men, were bent over a plan of the park set on a sawn-off tree trunk. Large white cloths had been set on the grass, strewn with cushions. There Lady Corembeck sat with two middle-aged ladies. All were dressed for company, the women’s dresses silk and satin, fashionable hoods covering their hair, faces and necks powdered with whitelead. Servants brought glasses of wine and plates of bread and cheese. A little way off some twenty men, those from Hoyland village recruited to help with the hunt, stood with half a dozen horses and the hunting dogs, held on leashes. Barak was talking to them. I was pleased to see Oddleg among the horses.
Hugh and David, with two other boys who looked to be sons of the guests, stood talking with Dyrick. The boys were dressed in different shades of green, as were the villagers. The men with Hobbey wore pinked or slashed doublets, but in pale shades, the usual bright colours of fine clothes absent. The four boys held their unstrung bows and had arrowbags at their belts. I saw swan and peacock feathers on the arrows’ fletches, marks of status, and all wore gloves and wrist guards of horn or embossed leather. David showed no sign of his attack the previous day, but cast worried glances at the two young guests, no doubt wondering if they knew.
The hunt breakfast was the prelude; the ladies would stay here while the menfolk hunted the stag, hopefully returning with it in the large wheeled cart that stood nearby, next to the cloth set with knives and clamps where the animal would be dissected before the company. Sometimes ladies hunted, but not today. I remembered Princess Elizabeth and the Queen telling me she already accompanied the hunt.