stood open and the cluck of chickens came from somewhere behind them.
The lawn before the house was carefully sculpted, sweeping down the slope to give a wide view over the river valley. The Constable paused, drinking it in with pleasure, and for a fleeting moment he envied Godlove the vista.
They dismounted and handed the horses over to a stable boy. Nottingham dusted off his coat and breeches before knocking on the heavy door.
‘Does he know we’re coming?’ Lister asked.
‘Never tell them that,’ the Constable advised. ‘You always want to catch people unprepared.’
A servant, looking with disdain at their old clothes, showed them through into a withdrawing room and loudly closed the door behind them.
‘And now we wait,’ Nottingham said wryly. ‘You might as well make yourself comfortable. The rich always take their time.’
It took almost half an hour for Godlove to appear and then he bustled in as if he’d been dragged from important business. He wore a suit of brown kersey, worn and creased, along with stout shoes and holey stockings. With no waistcoat, he looked as though he’d thrown on the coat to see his visitors.
‘Constable,’ he said, eyes alight. His face had taken on the pinched look of a man pummelled down by life. ‘I’m sorry, I came as fast as I could. I was out in the fields. You have news, I take it?’
‘I’m afraid not, Mr Godlove. But I do have some more questions.’
The man’s shoulders slumped. ‘You’ve asked me questions, your deputy’s asked me questions,’ he said, an edge of desperation in his tone. ‘Please, when are you going to start giving me some answers?’
‘As soon as we have them, sir,’ Nottingham replied evenly. ‘It’s taking us time to learn more things. The more we know, the better the chance of finding whoever murdered your wife.’ He made it sound perfectly obvious and reasonable.
‘Go on,’ Godlove agreed with a weary sigh. ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. If it helps find Sarah’s killer it’s worthwhile.’
‘Where did you meet your wife?’
The man looked up in surprise. ‘At the Assembly Rooms in Leeds. Why?’
The Constable ignored the question. ‘How long ago was that?’
Godlove had to think. ‘Two years, two and a half, perhaps?’ He paused. ‘She was sixteen, so two and a half years.’ As before, his gaze challenged the Constable to mention the difference in ages.
‘I’m told that your wife and her maid went out one day every week.’
‘Yes. It gave her a chance to get away from here for a few hours. She’d see friends, visit the sick among the tenants, go shopping.’ He sighed. ‘This is an isolated place, you can see that. I think she needed more of a social life than we had here.’
‘Of course,’ Nottingham agreed with a kind smile. ‘Did the two of you go to the assemblies together?’
‘Sometimes. Sarah was young. She had high spirits, she loved to dance.’ Nottingham watched carefully and saw pain flicker across the man’s eyes.
‘Do you know a man called William Jackson, by any chance?’
‘Jackson?’ Godlove frowned. ‘No, I don’t. Why, does he have something to do with Sarah’s death?’
‘It was just a question,’ the Constable assured him. ‘There is something that’s come up, though. About the time you announced your engagement, the Gibtons came into some money. I have to know, was that anything to do with you?’
Godlove dropped his head, then raised it again once he’d decided how to phrase his answer.
‘Once Sarah’s parents and I agreed to the betrothal, they felt that her new state required more money than they could provide. Theirs, too,’ he added carefully. ‘I have plenty of money, more than I’m ever going to spend, so I settled some on them. That way they could live more according to their title.’
‘Was that title important to you?’ Nottingham asked.
‘Sarah was important to me,’ the man replied carefully. ‘Who she was, not what she was.’
‘But she was the Honourable Sarah Godlove, wasn’t she? That can mean a great deal to a man.’
‘It can, Constable. I’ll admit that.’
‘Did it to you?’ Nottingham looked into the other man’s eyes. ‘I really do need the truth,’ he said quietly.
‘Yes, it did,’ Godlove answered finally. ‘Look at me. I’m wealthy. I have land. I give generously to charity. But the only way people like me can find that kind of respectability is by marrying it.’
‘So Sarah Gibton was an attractive proposition? A title and parents who had very little.’
‘At first. Once we were married I began to fall in love with her. I hoped that in time she might come to love me.’ He smiled wanly. ‘Hope and love can live a long time.’
‘How was she with you?’
‘A perfectly dutiful wife in every way,’ he replied carefully. ‘She had a great deal of freedom. I’m active on my estate, and I’m out all day.’
Nottingham nodded. He felt guilt at the questions he’d had to ask and what he’d forced the man to reveal.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘We’ve taken up enough of your time.’
‘Constable,’ Godlove said as a farewell, and left the room.
‘What did you make of that?’ Nottingham asked as the horses walked down the hill.
‘I felt sorry for him,’ Lister said.
‘So did I.’ He’d seen the awkwardness and embarrassment in Godlove’s manner, the pain behind his admissions. ‘Did you notice anything else?’
‘He never asked about the maid.’
‘Very good,’ the Constable said. ‘Not too surprising, though. It’s the way of the world. The rich never see the poor unless they need them.’
‘Why did you ask him about Will, boss? If he knew his wife had been seeing Jackson he wouldn’t have admitted it.’
Nottingham shrugged. ‘You never know, I’ve had stranger things happen.’
‘And why the questions about how he met his wife?’ Lister wanted to know.
‘Because he wasn’t expecting them. Catching people off guard is a good way to trip them up.’
‘Do you think he killed her?’
‘No,’ the Constable answered eventually. ‘I don’t think he could have hurt her. And I don’t think he knew about Will Jackson at all.’
‘What about the baby? Mr Sedgwick mentioned that.’
‘If there was a baby,’ he cautioned. ‘We don’t know about that.’
‘It would explain a lot, though,’ Lister countered. ‘Especially if the baby was Will’s.’
Nottingham frowned. ‘That’s too many ifs for my liking. Something we haven’t considered yet is the idea that Jackson might have murdered her and killed himself later.’
‘Will wouldn’t do something like that. He didn’t have any violence in him at all.’
‘Rob,’ the Constable said gently but insistently, ‘anyone can be violent in the right circumstances. The unlikeliest people commit murder if they’re pushed hard enough. You want ifs — what if Sarah told Will she was going to stop seeing him and be faithful to her husband? If he loved her passionately enough that could make him kill her.’
‘I suppose that’s possible,’ Lister admitted reluctantly.
‘There, you see. When we get back to Leeds, go to the stable and find out the last time she was there. The same at Jackson’s lodgings. If she was there when she was supposed to be on her way to Roundhay it could change things.’
‘Yes, boss.’
The clouds were thickening behind them and the smell in the air had changed, the promise of rain growing stronger on the breeze.
‘Come on,’ Nottingham said, nudging the horse into a canter, ‘we’ll beat the shower back to town.’
The first large drops fell as he walked up Briggate towards the jail, leaving spots the size of pennies. Glancing to the west he could already see blue sky in the far distance. This shower wouldn’t last long, but as a respite from the heat it would be welcome. By the time he turned on to Kirkgate the rain was a heavy veil, rapidly soaking his
