Part 1 (2/2)
”I do not know, although 'tis certain I will be dispatched soon. To France, as you must already have guessed. Matters are grave in that benighted land. There are some who think I can help right them.”
”I see.”
”Why not think of my next absence as an opportunity to pursue the scholarly endeavors you began the last time I was away.” Robert made the suggestion in an offhand manner that offended Susanna all over again.
”While you were on that last royal errand,” she informed him in lofty tones, ”I exhausted our entire supply of reading matter and added Spanish to the languages I already speak.”
Their eyes met.
Her lips twitched first.
Laughter followed, full-bodied and cleansing. For all their differences, they had always shared this unexpected sense of humor.
”You now mangle Spanish as badly as you do French?” he asked, still chuckling.
The one ability Susanna had not inherited from her father was his fluency in languages. She could read Latin, Greek, German, and French, but her attempts to communicate aloud in any tongue but her own were haphazard at best.
”Here's a thought,” Robert proposed. ”You might follow the example of another learned lady of our acquaintance and fill your free hours by translating Latin texts into English and thence into Greek.”
Susanna sniffed contemptuously, though she knew he was only teasing her. ”In my opinion, the gentlewoman in question has become quite unsettled in her mind as the result of too much study.”
Closing the distance between them, Robert rested one hand on his wife's shoulder while he used the other to catch her chin and lift her face toward his own. ”Today's letter was not a summons to serve the queen.”
”No?”
”No.”
”Then what was in it? Whence came it?”
”From Lancas.h.i.+re. John Bexwith, my steward at Appleton Manor, is dead.”
Susanna frowned, surprised that this news should have affected him so strongly. ”The man was quite elderly,” she said hesitantly, ”was he not?”
Robert looked surprised that she would know. He'd never taken her north with him to visit his late father's estates. Although she was the one who disbursed monies to pay for the upkeep of Appleton Manor, Susanna had never met John Bexwith. Robert had, however, mentioned the fellow once or twice, referring to him as Old John.
”Your memory is excellent,” he told her, absently tucking an unruly lock of dark brown hair back up under her brocaded cap. Then, releasing her, he moved a little apart and drew the letter out of his doublet, perusing the message it contained one last time while Susanna waited, her eyes alight with curiosity. ”He was found face down in a marrow-bone pie.”
With that incredible statement, Robert placed the letter in his wife's outstretched hand.
Susanna blinked at him. Marrow-bone pie? She was not familiar with the dish. A natural curiosity a.s.serted itself and was quickly repressed. A man had died. This was no time to collect recipes.
”Did his heart fail him?” she asked.
”A logical conclusion.”
But other alternatives occurred to Susanna. How could they not when she was presently engaged in the writing of a cautionary herbal, a book designed to warn cooks and housewives what ingredients to avoid? She knew of at least a dozen poisonous herbs that could accidentally find their way into any dish, or be deliberately added with little fear of detection. Any odd taste could be masked by a generous use of spices.
”Do not let your imagination run away with you,” Robert warned, just as though she had spoken aloud. In some few ways he knew her well.
”The news of his death troubled you for some reason,” she argued. ”What else am I to conclude but that you suspect he did not die of natural causes?”
”I am annoyed only. I have too many other matters to concern me to need yet another distraction. It is only your extensive knowledge of poisonous plants that leads you to jump to erroneous conclusions. Read the letter for yourself, Susanna.”
She did so, then skimmed its contents again, just as he had in his reluctance to believe what was written there. ”I am not the one you should be chiding for too much imagination. What nonsense this is!”
”I agree, and for that very reason I mean to let my man of law deal with the situation.”
According to the letter, which had come from that very Manchester lawyer who handled Robert's legal affairs in the north, the serving wench who had found John Bexwith's body was insisting that he had been frightened to death . . . by a ghost.
”Country folk are often superst.i.tious,” Susanna mused, ”but not without reason.”
Robert frowned. ”I'd hoped you'd dismiss the incident as too absurd to pursue. I should have known better.”
As she scanned the missive a third time her interest increased with a force that was almost palpable. ”Master Grimshaw writes that the apparition is female and quite young, and that she was seen again by several other servants after John Bexwith's death. Grimshaw also claims he is having difficulty finding anyone willing to replace Bexwith as your steward.”
”It will take a bit of time for such rumors to fade, but we pay our servants well. Someone will eventually agree to take the post.”
”Perhaps we need to show a more personal interest in your Lancas.h.i.+re holdings,” Susanna suggested. ”A visit to Appleton now would-”
”You would not care for the place.”
”What has that to do with anything? It is only good business to inspect the premises of any property we own. You have not been there since just after your father's death. Two years. That's far too long to neglect your-”
”Grimshaw is perfectly capable of hiring a new steward. There is no necessity for either of us to make a long and very uncomfortable journey north.”
”If you were not here at Leigh Abbey to receive your orders from the queen, you might not have to go to France after all.”
”An excellent reason not to leave.”
”So, you are content to wait on the whim of a-”
”She is the queen of England, Susanna.”
”I will go north alone, then.”
”There is no need, and if you do not have enough to occupy you here while I am gone, then pay a visit to London. Look for new tapestries. Buy books, if you wish.”
She continued to argue, but Robert remained adamant. Clearly, he had no desire to return to the place of his birth, but what Susanna could not understand was why he did not want her to go there, either.
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