Part 12 (1/2)
”Nay.”
That was odd. Susanna was certain Grimshaw had said in his first letter that the other servants had seen it, before Appleton Manor was closed up and they went their separate ways.
”There seems to be some question as to who is haunting Appleton.” Susanna told her. ”And I wish I knew who would want to. In any event, the appearances are as contrived as a players' spectacle.” She described what she'd been told and what she had seen herself, adding, ”What I saw lacked only trapdoors and flashes of light.”
Mabel nodded and sipped and sipped again. ”Just so. Well, there's many a la.s.s might have liked to see Sir George meet his maker, but none, I do think, who'd try to hurry him along. And as for John Bexwith, what harm did he ever do?”
”That is my exact question,” Susanna told her, ”though there are those who say the master and his man were both threats to womankind.”
Mabel's hearty laugh boomed forth. ”Aye, but is that such a bad thing? I knew them both well, if ye do take my meaning, and I came to no harm from it.”
”There's a difference between willing and unwilling,” Susanna commented dryly. ”Tell me about Edith Ince.”
The story was the same one Susanna had already heard. Mabel and the other servants had gone to the fair. Bexwith had found the body on his return. Since everyone knew what Sir George was like, it was immediately clear that his death was an accident. Besides, no one had wanted to make a fuss.
”No one questioned Edith?”
”No need. If it had not been Edith, 'twould have been some other young wench. And by the look of it, she suffered enough.” Mabel winked. ”Had his codpiece unlaced, he did, when he fell.” Then she chortled. ”Died as he lived, and that be the Lord's own truth.”
”You've little pity for the girl.”
Mabel sobered instantly. ”Aye, and I do see that a young la.s.s might think Sir George a ripe old horror. But in his youth, ah, there were a man. Is his son like him?”
”In appearance, or so I surmise. In his profligate ways, I do hope not. Can you tell me how John Bexwith came to be steward here?”
”He and Sir George did know each other as lads. They shared a wildhead youth and managed to take it well into their middle years with them. Why, I remember me once, and it must have been after Sir George had taken him his third wife, he and Bexwith put on masks one night and entered a neighbor's house. Sir George had a quarrel with the fellow but he weren't at home so they plucked his children out of their beds and tossed up the bedding and bedstraw and told the fellow's wife that they'd come to kill him. It was all a great jest, prompted by overindulgence in fancy French wine, but the family were proper terrorized before they'd done.”
”Can such antics have gone unpunished?”
”He were charged in Chancery. Not the first time, either. But Sir George never did more than pay a fine. Had the magistrates in his pocket, he did, and that's the Lord's truth, too.”
Susanna shook her head, dismayed by this further proof that Robert's father had been a lawless and irresponsible sort, p.r.o.ne to go his own way without regard for others.
”Most times when he entered a man's house and that man were not at home, Sir George had other things on his mind. He'd tear up the bed, all right.” Mabel was laughing again. ”Terror of the neighborhood, he was.”
”I am surprised the Denholms agreed to his marriage with their daughter.”
Mabel shook her head solemnly from side to side. ”A pity, that were. Sweet young thing. Brought music and laughter into this house . . . for a time.”
”And her parents? What did they think of this elderly son-by-marriage?”
Mabel just shook her head, reluctant to guess. ”Never once did they come here when she were Lady Appleton. And 'twas rare she went to them.”
Susanna frowned. She needed to think about all Mabel had said. There would be time for more questions later. ”I will send the cook Master Grimshaw provided back to Manchester this very day,” she declared. She had to wonder now if he'd been sent as a spy. No doubt Robert's profession made her overly suspicious, but she would not be sorry to see the last of that particular retainer.
”I were housekeeper, too,” Mabel said. ”Sir George did keep but a small staff.”
”Then you shall be housekeeper again. I've household staff you have not met and some few from Manchester that you may know already.” She named them, but was not surprised when Mabel had heard of none of them, not even the girl Bess. Grimshaw had apparently been careful to hire only servants who had no prior connection to or knowledge of Appleton Manor.
Briefly, Susanna wondered if she should dismiss all the new staff and let Mabel find replacements, but she rejected the idea at once. Help had been hard to come by. She would simply have to be careful what she did and said in front of Bess and the others.
As she'd promised, Susanna led Mabel to the kitchen, gave the cook a generous bribe to be on his way quickly, and introduced his replacement to the rest of the staff. Jennet looked the newcomer over thoroughly, her manner suspicious, and Mabel returned the examination in kind.
It did not surprise Susanna that her tiring maid sought her out within the hour. She found her in the stillroom she had set up since coming to Lancas.h.i.+re, grinding basil to use in a poultice to treat workmen's blisters.
”Madam, are you certain you want that Mabel Hussey back?”
Susanna smiled to herself, unable to resist baiting the girl. ”Why should I not, Jennet? She claims to be an excellent cook.” Susanna pretended to concentrate on the rhythm of mortar and pestle.
”Aye. I do remember how she cooks,” Jennet muttered. In a louder voice she asked, ”Is she not the one who made the marrow-bone pie?”
”I am convinced we've naught to fear from Mabel Hussey's cooking.”
”Did the ghost kill Master Bexwith, then?”
Exasperation made Susanna's voice sharp. She wielded the pestle with greater vigor. Would she never be rid of this superst.i.tious nonsense? ”No, Jennet! Ghosts do not kill.”
Her maidservant looked puzzled for a moment, but then her expression cleared and delight underscored her words. ”Oh, excellent, madam! You have reasoned out that there was no murder at all!”
Jennet's relief was so intense that Susanna did not have the heart to contradict her. And how could she admit to a girl who admired her mistress's cleverness that she was more uncertain of what was true and what was not at this moment than she'd been before Mabel's return to Appleton Manor?
Chapter Twenty-Two.
”There was a rumor,” Pendennis reported, ”that La Renaudie was here in Paris last week, lodging with a Calvinist lawyer, but we were unable to confirm it, or to make contact with him.”
”An elusive fellow,” Sir Robert remarked. He'd already given Pendennis an account of his adventures in Blois, though he'd omitted Queen Catherine's final gesture. An hour after the queen mother's departure from his rooms, a l.u.s.ty Scotswoman from Queen Mary's retinue had appeared at his door.
”La Renaudie is a man I grow more and more loath to trust,” Pendennis admitted.
”What have you learned?”
”That he was convicted of forgery and fled France for Geneva. There he began to recruit malcontents: students, artisans, unemployed soldiers, and mercenaries. By some mysterious means he obtained a pardon from Henri II just before that monarch's death. Thus he has been able to return to France with his new followers and reclaim his estates in Perigord.”
”But he still foments rebellion?”
”More than ever. He seems to target the landless younger sons of n.o.ble families.”
”I mislike the sound of this,” Sir Robert said.
”You have no choice but to meet with him.”
”Aye. The queen commands it. Does it strike you we've too many queens these days, Pendennis? Catherine wants to be regent in France. Marie of Guise, Queen Mary's mother, is already regent in Scotland. Elizabeth controls England.”