‘Penny for them,’ Mary said, touching his arm.
‘Sorry,’ he apologized, knowing she was used to this by now, never prying when he turned quiet, but always understanding. She pulled herself tighter to his arm and smiled up happily at him.
‘It doesn’t matter. I just like being with you.’
They continued in companionable silence, relishing the small joy of togetherness as they walked up Marsh Lane and he put the key in the door. While Mary bustled in the kitchen, he stared out of the window, looking out to the fields. Maybe it was time to give Sedgwick more responsibility, he pondered. To think of spending less time at work and more of it here. Who knew how long he’d live?
Maybe he and Mary really would grow old and bent together, but in his heart he knew it wasn’t likely. He’d seen too many die, men and women his age and younger. It could happen at any time, in any way.
Twenty-One
He heard Emily moving around even before he pushed off the bedsheet. Quietly, he dressed and washed then tiptoed down to the kitchen. She was waiting, all prepared, her books gathered in a parcel, her face shiny and eager for the day to start.
‘Can I walk in with you, papa?’ she asked, and he could hear the excitement in her voice.
‘Of course you can, love. I’d be proud to be seen with the best teacher in Leeds.’
She came and hugged him, something she’d rarely done in a long time, just once after Rose had died and she’d needed the comfort.
‘Thank you,’ she told him.
‘For what?’
‘Making Mr Hartington write that letter. I was so scared when I came home that day.’
Nottingham stroked her cheek. ‘All I did is what any father would do. Me being Constable carries a little more weight, that’s all.’
He poured some small beer and pulled some bread from the loaf. ‘Do you want something to eat?’ he asked her.
‘I can’t.’
He understood. She was nervous, pacing the floor, impatient for him to finish. She’d arrive far too early at the school, but that was what she needed today. Give it another fortnight and she’d be dashing down the road to reach the place in time.
After they left the house her feet moved quickly, and he laughed silently to himself as he kept up with her; any quicker and she’d be running to school. As they approached the jail he took her arm.
‘You need to be ladylike, you’re in town now.’
‘Yes, papa,’ she said, then giggled like a little girl when he grinned.
Lister was waiting outside the door, soberly dressed, a tricorn hat perched high on his head. He bowed to Emily, showing a bandage wrapped neatly around his skull as he doffed the hat. The Constable smiled as she blushed beetroot.
‘You’ll do fine,’ he told her, placing a small kiss on her forehead. ‘I’ll see you tonight and you can tell me all about it.’
He watched as she walked away, and he sensed that she was trying not to run.
‘Your daughter, boss?’
‘Yes,’ he said proudly. ‘She starts teaching at the Dame School today. How’s your head?’
‘I feel like I’ve spent three days drinking, but without any of the fun,’ he replied wryly.
‘It’ll wear off.’ He looked in the cells and saw Hughes sleeping on a bench. Give him one more day, he thought. Tuesday would be soon enough for him. ‘You’re in luck, there’s not much to do, Rob,’ he advised. ‘Look after things here. I’m going up to Roundhay with Mr Sedgwick, if he ever arrives.’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘Your friend Edward Hughes is locked up. Give him a little food and ale when he wakes. Don’t tell him how long he’ll be here.’
‘What about the other man?’
‘I’ll be dealing with him later. If anything comes up, find one of the men. There shouldn’t be much.’
He was finishing his instructions when the deputy pushed the door open.
‘Morning, John,’ Nottingham said. ‘I see you got him. Did he give you any trouble?’
‘Nothing to worry about.’
‘Good. Now you can come with me. We’re off to Roundhay.’
He took the knife that had killed Sarah Godlove from the drawer and handed it to Sedgwick. ‘See if there’s a match for this when we’re there.’
For the first mile as they rode out, Sedgwick complained. The Constable had expected it, a list of objections about the animal, the saddle and stirrups, even the feeling of being on a horse. He listened patiently, knowing it would trail away in time.
‘Why are we going to see the Gibtons again?’ the deputy asked finally.
‘Too many unanswered questions,’ Nottingham told him. ‘I’ve let this Sarah Godlove business drag on too long. There’s something very wrong with the Gibtons. I’m going to push them and see what happens. I want you with me since we’re dealing with people of quality.’ He uttered the words in a cutting, sardonic tone.
A full five minutes passed before Sedgwick spoke again.
‘Boss?’
‘What, John?’
‘Is there any chance of more money?’
‘More money for what?’ He suspected he knew the reason but he wanted to be certain.
‘For me,’ the deputy said hesitantly. ‘It’s just that with the baby coming we’d like to be able to afford somewhere bigger.’
Nottingham turned in the saddle. Sedgwick looked ill at ease.
‘I think I can manage that. It won’t be much, mind, but a little more each week. Would that help?’
Sedgwick grinned widely, and for a moment he looked just like a young boy who’d been given an unexpected treat.
‘Thank you, boss. Lizzie’ll be happy now.’
‘You’d better keep her sweet. You’re going to be with her for a long time.’
‘I bloody well hope I am,’ the deputy said.
‘She’s a good lass. She’s certainly got the measure of you, no mistake.’
They left their horses tied in the shade of a tree, panting and wanting water. Nottingham knocked on the large front door and waited until it was answered by a maid, different from the one he’d seen last time.
‘You’re new?’ he asked.
‘Yes, sir.’ She coloured and gave a full curtsey. ‘It’s my first day, sir.’
‘What happened to the other girl?’
‘The master let her go, sir.’ The blush on her face grew deeper.
He smiled at her, but wondered why the other girl had been dismissed and whether it had anything to do with him.
‘I’d like to speak to Lord Gibton. I’m the Constable of Leeds.’
‘Yes, sir.’ She scurried away, glancing nervously over her shoulder several times, a questioning look in her eyes.
Within a minute Gibton was striding down the hall. This time he was wearing clothes made for a country man, but certainly not for work; the material was fine, the riding boots lovingly polished to a high shine. His mouth was set, eyes hard.
‘What do you need now, Constable?’ he asked dismissively.
‘Some more questions, sir.’
Gibton stood and waited. ‘Well?’
