the drink was welcome as they sat in the shade of the room. Finally a short, stocky man arrived, rubbing at his hands with a dirty kerchief. His arms were well muscled from years of labour in the fields.
‘What is it, love? They said you needed me quick.’
She glanced at Nottingham. ‘This man here’s come out from Leeds about Annie. He’s the Constable.’
‘Oh aye?’ Taylor turned and Nottingham could see the anguish in his eyes, the prayer for good news that wasn’t going to come.
He stood up. ‘I’m sorry to have to ask,’ he said quietly, ‘but does Anne have a birthmark?’
‘She does,’ her mother said firmly, fingers reaching out to grip her husband’s hand.
‘Where?’
‘About here,’ she answered, pointing at her hip.
‘What does it look like?’
For a moment the woman seemed confused. ‘Not like anything, really. Just darker, I suppose.’
‘I’m very sorry.’
Taylor gathered his wife close, never taking his eyes off the Constable. She was huddled against him, her arms tight around his back, releasing the tears that had been building since the deputy’s visit. The man’s face remained stony.
‘Where did you find her?’ he asked.
‘In some woods, just outside the city.’
‘How long had she been there?’
‘A while,’ Nottingham admitted.
The man gave a short nod.
‘I’ll arrange to have her brought out here so you can bury her properly,’ the Constable offered. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Thank you.’
The man kept his wife tight against him. Nottingham stood. He had nothing more to say that they’d want to hear. Quietly he made his farewell and left them. Outside the heat wrapped around him like a blanket as he climbed back on the horse.
Should he go and see Gibton while he was out here?
‘Thank you for coming out yourself.’ Taylor was standing there, a man who moved silently, for all his bulk. ‘And for not saying she’d been killed.’
‘It was the least I could do.’ He looked at Taylor. ‘I lost a daughter myself earlier this year.’
‘The wife really believed she was still alive.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated.
‘Never a word of concern from them, of course.’ He inclined his head towards the distance, but there was no need; the Constable knew exactly who he meant.
‘To be fair, they’ve lost a daughter of their own,’ Nottingham said.
‘Aye, I know that.’ He coughed and spat on the ground. ‘And I went round to say how sorry we were when I heard. Him there didn’t even say he was grateful, never mind that our Annie had been Sarah’s maid for years.’
‘Grief can do that.’ He was surprised to hear himself defending the Gibtons.
‘Mebbe,’ Taylor conceded with a frown. ‘But then her comes out and starts shrieking at me, saying it must have been our lass who led Sarah astray.’
‘Led her astray?’
‘Aye.’ He stared up at Nottingham and shook his head in bitter exasperation. ‘Exactly what she said. Made no sense but she’s always been a shrew. Mad, some folk reckon.’
‘What about this money they got last year?’ He could see that the man needed to talk, to do anything to take his mind off his loss.
Taylor spat again. ‘No secret that the man paid for the lass’s hand. Annie told me that herself. Didn’t tell her mother much, mind, but we’d talk sometimes when she visited.’
‘And what about Sarah, how did she feel?’
‘Not too happy, from what Annie said. Seems she had a young man before, and she didn’t want to give him up.’
‘What did her parents say?’
Taylor stroked the horse’s head between the eyes and didn’t answer for a few moments. Then, ‘Told her to grow up, that they’d arranged a damn good marriage for her.’
‘How serious was all this romance?’
‘Strong, I reckon.’ Taylor moved, setting himself in the shade on the other side of the animal. ‘She’d been seeing him a little while. Loved him, Annie told me. He was just unsuitable for what her parents wanted for her marriage.’
‘Not rich enough, you mean?’
‘Aye, summat like that.’ He gave a cold smile.
‘Do you know if Sarah gave him up after she was wed?’
‘Annie never said she was still seeing him.’
Nottingham brushed the fringe off his forehead. The hair was damp and stuck to his skin. He debated telling Taylor what he knew. If Anne had confided anything in him, it might help.
‘From what we’ve been able to find out, Sarah was still seeing him regularly. They were planning to leave together.’
The man raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, I’m glad love meant more to her than money, any road,’ he said.
‘Did your daughter give you any indication?’
‘Not really.’ He scratched his head. ‘Last time she was here she did say Sarah might be with child.’
Nottingham’s eyes widened. ‘She told you instead of her mother?’
Taylor smiled wistfully. ‘She loved her mam well enough, but like I said, I was the one she talked to. Allus was that way.’ He sighed. ‘You think the child might be this other man’s?’
‘It could be,’ Nottingham agreed guardedly. If she was pregnant by Jackson, then this would be the perfect time to leave and set up somewhere new. They’d arrive as a couple with some money and a baby on the way. Who’d think twice about that?
Taylor looked thoughtful. ‘And what about Annie? Were they going to take her?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know,’ the Constable answered truthfully. The man had been forthright, and he deserved honesty in return. ‘If I had to guess, I’d say yes. She’d been privy to all Sarah’s plans, after all. She’d always gone with her mistress when she met her lover. They trusted her. So, for what it’s worth, I think Anne would have gone with them.’
‘You think our Annie and Sarah were killed because of all this?’
‘I don’t know why they were killed,’ Nottingham told him with a weary shake of his head. ‘I’m trying to find out. And that’s why anything I can learn is useful.’
‘When you find out, will you come and tell us?’ Taylor asked. ‘Just so we know why Annie had to die.’
‘I will,’ Nottingham promised. He pushed his heels against the horse’s flanks and the animal moved off. Perhaps it was time to see the Gibtons again, after all.
He rode along the drive to the house with his thoughts rolling and tumbling. A gardener was working, scything part of the lawn, arms moving in long, limber arcs. Even though high clouds remained teasingly in the sky, the heat was still gathering and Nottingham wiped the sweat from the back of his neck.
When he dismounted no one hurried out to greet him. He tethered the horse and walked slowly to the door, raised the polished brass of the knocker, warm to his touch, and let it fall against the wood.
It took a minute until he heard footsteps pattering inside and the serving girl opened the door, face flushed with running.
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ she said with a small curtsey. She was close to Emily’s age, hair gathered loosely under a cap, her eyes full of worry and work in a friendly, good-hearted face.
‘Is Lord Gibton in?’ he asked. ‘I’m Richard Nottingham, Constable of Leeds. I’ve been here before.’
‘I remember, sir,’ she replied. ‘Lord and Lady Gibton are gone for the day.’
‘Ah well. I wanted to tell them how things were moving in the hunt for their daughter’s killer.’
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ the girl repeated. ‘They’ll be back this evening, I think.’
