Pat McIntosh - The Rough Collier

Michael shook his head. ‘He’ll not listen to me, madam. I’ll write to my father, and hope he does something, but, well, seems to me the damage is done.’

‘You are right,’ agreed Alys, tucking her hand into Gil’s. ‘The ideas are loose in his head now.’

‘At least we know where they came from,’ said Gil. ‘Michael, for pity’s sake, eat that. You must be starved of hunger. Did you learn anything the day?’

‘No,’ said Michael indistinctly as Lady Egidia rose and went out into the hall. ‘Not a lot,’ he qualified, swallowing. ‘I started at the near end, wi’ Lockhart at the Lee. Their steward was from home, but I got a word wi’ the under-steward who looked up the accounts for me, and it seems the coal was paid the same day Murray set out from the Pow Burn. As you’d expect,’ he added. ‘That would be the eighteenth of March, as I recall. One night’s hospitality writ down at the same time. Then he went on to Waygateshaw, I suppose on the nineteenth, they paid him and he collected a couple more fees while he was there, and rode off on the twentieth for Jerviswood, his two men wi’ him.’

‘So far, so good,’ said Gil. ‘These are all close at hand,’ he added to Alys, who nodded.

‘Aye. Well, after Jerviswood,’ Michael went on, ‘the next on the list is Lanark town, two houses. I decided I’d not go into Lanark yet, but went on to pick up the trail at Ravenstruther. Their steward looked up the accounts and said they lay there on the …’ He paused, reflecting. ‘Aye. The twenty-third and — fourth of March. Likely Lanark was more attractive, that they’d stayed longer there in between. I turned for home then, since it was well through the afternoon and I didny fancy my chances pressing on to Carnwath and getting back before dark.’

‘And all was as usual?’ Gil asked. Michael shrugged. Instead of his narrow scholar’s gown, today he was wearing a handsome doublet of soft tawny leather, faced with green velvet at the cuffs and neck, the sleeves and throat of his shirt embroidered in green and tawny thread to match. He seemed five years older and far better looking; Gil suddenly saw what might have attracted his youngest sister.

‘This was four or five weeks ago,’ he was saying. ‘I asked, but nobody minded aught that was out of the ordinary.’

‘Just Murray and his two men,’ said Alys. Michael nodded, and half rose as Lady Egidia returned.

‘Sit still,’ she said, crossing the chamber to her own chair. ‘Alan will bring more food in a little space. This has been good work, godson, even if you learned nothing. Tomorrow you can go on to the next houses on the list.’

Michael went scarlet with what might have been gratification, and Gil sat back, stretching out his legs.

‘So all was well for a good week after they set out,’ he summarized. ‘And meantime, I’m no nearer finding a name to the corp, nor learning just why Fleming brought such a charge against Mistress Lithgo. What about your day, sweetheart?’

‘I found out more than that, I think,’ said Alys diffidently. Alan Forrest entered, with a fresh platter of bread and cheese and a bowl of rather withered apples, which he set on the table by Michael’s elbow. ‘Though none of it may be to the point. Did you say Fleming admitted to having consulted Mistress Lithgo?’

‘Under pressure.’

‘Ah. Only under pressure. That is interesting. He did not say why?’

‘No,’ Gil admitted, ‘though he mentioned ointment which didn’t work. No reason why he should, I suppose, though it might have been more corroboration if he’d told me what way the ointment didn’t work.’

‘Yes,’ said Alys. ‘Phemie told me she had seen him slipping into her mother’s stillroom after they all thought he had left for the day. But Mistress Lithgo never mentioned it today when I spoke to her, nor yesterday when it might have helped her cause.’

‘Ah!’ echoed Lady Egidia. The steward paused in the doorway, half-watching the company. ‘You think …’

Alys exchanged a very woman-to-woman glance with her across Gil.

‘It seems possible,’ she agreed. ‘Some problem he might not wish discussed. She is a good woman, and a good healer, I think she would be discreet as a matter of course.’

‘Oh, she would. I wonder what it is? I suppose it could be anything he keeps under his hose. A carbuncle on his hinder end, emerods, trouble with his water. Alan, what are you waiting there for?’ demanded his mistress. ‘Have you aught to add to this?’

‘Aye, well,’ admitted the steward, grinning sheepishly. ‘In a manner o’ speaking. It’s Davy Fleming ye’re discussing, madam, is it?’

‘You ken very well it is,’ she said tartly. ‘What’s the word, then? Have you something Maister Gil should hear?’

‘I’m no just certain. For all you’re saying Beattie Lithgo can be discreet, mistress, I think there’s some word going about among the lassies — the young lassies. The way they laugh when his name’s mentioned, there’s something they’re no telling the men.’

Another of those significant glances passed, and both women nodded triumphantly. Gil, catching up with their thought, looked from his mother to his wife, and objected: ‘Michael’s just told us he’s putting it well about — what, three lassies last summer, two the year afore — that doesn’t sound like what you’re suggesting.’

‘But none since then,’ said Alys.

‘What is it you’re suggesting?’ Michael asked blankly. The steward grinned again, and made an inelegant gesture. Michael went scarlet. ‘Oh! D’you mean he canny get — like some kind of retribution? A judgement on him?’

‘It might be,’ agreed Alys, ‘though I have never heard of it happening so appositely.’ Gil looked down at the top of her head where she leaned against his shoulder, wondering yet again at her capacity to surprise him.

‘I have,’ said Lady Egidia. She paused, considering her household. ‘The lassies would tell me what the joke is, but I’d have to press them to it likely. They’re by far more like to share it wi’ you, Alys. Would you care to have a try at one or two of them?’

‘I should be honoured,’ said Alys.

‘Alan will furnish you wi’ likely names. And did you learn anything more at the coal-heugh?’

Alys nodded, her head shifting against Gil’s shoulder, and put up a hand to straighten her French hood.

‘Much of it was shadows,’ she qualified. ‘Nuances. The man Murray was much disliked — I think all of the women had some reason to wish him ill — but the most interesting was that Joanna is to have her first husband’s share of the inheritance. A half share in the business.’

‘Is she, now!’ said Gil.

‘Is that right?’ said Alan, still hovering in the doorway. ‘I kent the auld — Mistress Weir was daft for her, but I never heard that.’

‘Alan, you may as well be seated,’ said his mistress resignedly, ‘and tell us what you know about the folk at the coal-heugh and all.’

‘Well, it’s maybe no that much,’ said Alan, seating himself primly on the nearest stool. ‘They keep theirsels to theirsels up there.’

This proved to be the case. Few facts emerged, but a picture of a community viewed with suspicion, known to be violent, said to be feckless. The heugh was thought to be haunted, possibly by Mistress Lithgo’s husband, which Alan thought must be right, for else why would the colliers not work at night? Mistress Lithgo herself was well known and well liked, her daughters regarded warily — ‘They’re bonnie lassies, but nobody kens how they’ll be placed,’ said Alan. Gil recognized the reference to the girls’ dowries.

‘And the old woman?’ he prompted. ‘What’s said of her?’