‘I’d need to see the land grant. But if there’s a defined area, that stands well for the villagers.’
‘If I go into the village while you’re away, maybe it’s time to tell them you are counsel at Requests. Then we might get some information.’
I considered. ‘Yes. Do it. See Ettis. Tell him if they write to chambers I’ll apply for an injunction as soon as I get back. On condition they say nothing to Hobbey.’ I smiled. ‘I can tell Hobbey about it on the day we leave.’
‘You are turning into a Machiavelli since becoming a Court of Wards lawyer.’
I looked at him seriously. ‘Ask Ettis to tell us in return all he can about Hugh. Something is going on in this house that we cannot see. I swear it.’
Chapter Twenty-one
SEVEN O’CLOCK the next morning found me riding north along the Portsmouth road, already a mile from Hoyland Priory. Once again I had taken Oddleg. He walked along rapidly, seeming happy to be on a long journey again. The weather was fine, a scent of dewy grass on the air which was still cool at that hour. It would be hot later, and I wore a doublet of light wool, grateful to have left my robes behind. As I rode I pondered the conversation I had had, just before I left, with Hugh.
I had asked to be called at six, and been woken by a knock on the door. Fulstowe put his head round. ‘There is some breakfast downstairs, sir,’ he said, adding, ‘I understand you are travelling to Sussex and will not be back until tomorrow afternoon.’
‘Yes. A piece of business for another client. Thank you.’ I had already told Hobbey that, and no more – I was not going to tell them anything about Ellen. I rose and dressed. Then I picked up Emma’s decorated cross from my bedside table and Hugh’s copy of Toxophilus. I stepped quietly into the corridor and walked along to Hugh’s room. I hesitated briefly, then knocked. I had gone there the previous evening, but either he was not there or was not answering. Here was a rare chance to speak with him undisturbed.
This time he answered the door, already dressed in shirt and doublet.
‘I am sorry to disturb you so early,’ I said, ‘but I am setting out for Sussex now, and I wanted to return your book.’
He hesitated a moment before inviting me in, as courtesy demanded.
The room was furnished with a bed, a chest and a table, and a wall hanging in green and white stripes, the Tudor colours. On a shelf above the table I saw, to my surprise, a collection of perhaps two dozen books. The room smelled strongly of wax and Hugh’s bow, unstrung, leaned against a corner of the bed. A box of wax and a rag lay beside it.
‘I am polishing my bow.’ He gave a little smile. ‘Mistress Abigail prefers me to do it outside, but at this hour who will know?’
‘It is early indeed.’
‘I like to rise before everyone else, have some time to myself before they are all up.’ I caught a note of contempt in Hugh’s voice and looked at him keenly. He coloured and put a hand to his neck. He is very conscious of those marks, I thought.
‘You have many books,’ I said. ‘May I look?’
‘Please do.’
There were Latin and Greek classics, a book on manners for young gentlemen, and copies of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, The Book of the Hunt and Boorde’s Dietary of Health, as well as Sir Thomas More’s Utopia. There were, unusually, no religious works save a New Testament.
‘A fine collection,’ I observed. ‘Few people your age have so many.’
‘Some were my father’s, and Master Hobbey fetched some for me from London. But I have no one to discuss them with since our last tutor left.’
I took down The Book of the Hunt. ‘This is the classic work on hunting, I believe.’
‘It is. Originally by a Frenchman, but translated by the Duke of York, who died at Agincourt. When nine thousand English archers routed a huge French army,’ he added proudly. He sat down on the bed.
‘Are you looking forward to the hunt next week?’ I asked.
‘Very much. It will only be my third. We do not socialize much here.’
‘I understand it has taken time for the local gentlefolk to accept the family.’
‘It is only the prospect of the hunt that is bringing them. So Mistress Abigail says at least.’ I realized how isolated Hugh was down here, David too.
‘At my last hunt it was I who brought down the hart,’ Hugh added proudly.
‘I was told you were awarded the heartstone, that you wear it round your neck still.’
His hand rose to his neck again. His eyes narrowed. ‘By whom?’
‘Master Avery.’
‘You have been questioning him about me?’
‘Hugh, the only reason I am here is to look into your welfare.’
Those unreadable blue-green eyes met mine. ‘I told you yesterday, sir, I have no complaints.’
‘Before I left London, Bess Calfhill gave me something for you. Something Mistress Hobbey gave to Michael. It was your sister’s.’ I opened my hand and showed him the decorated cross. At once tears started to his eyes. He turned his head away.