Edward Marston - The Devil's Apprentice

Nicholas was ahead of her. ‘The third child was stillborn.’

‘Yes, sir, but she was never told. The dead baby was taken away and she was given a live one in its place, thinking it was her own.’ She lowered her head. ‘My son, Davy, had been born a few days earlier. They took him from me.’

‘They?’

‘Doctor Winche and the midwife.’

‘Where was the baby delivered?’

‘In a cottage on the other side of Stapleford,’ she said, distressed at the memory. ‘They hid me away until my time came then I was sent off to Lincoln to start a new life.’

‘And did Master Stratton’s wife ever learn the full facts?’

‘No, sir. She loved Davy as her own son, poor woman. But he was a bad father. As soon as his wife died, Master Stratton turned on Davy. Then he heard that I’d been taken on at Oakwood House and looked for a way to get rid of him altogether.’ A pleading note sounded. ‘I didn’t come back to cause trouble, sir, truly I didn’t.’

‘How did Davy find out that you were his mother?’

‘He defied his father and sneaked off to play with Master Enderby’s sons. Davy saw me at the house. There are some things a woman can’t hide, sir. Davy soon guessed. We were drawn together. He came whenever he could slip away.’

‘Let’s go back to the birth itself,’ he said gently. ‘You told me that the baby was taken from you by Doctor Winche and the midwife.’

‘That’s right, sir. Mother Pigbone.’

Nicholas was shocked. ‘ She helped to bring Davy into the world?’

‘Mother Pigbone was much younger then and kind to me at first.’

‘But what about the legal side of things?’ asked Nicholas. ‘Two people can’t lose their own child and simply reach out for someone else’s. A doctor is supposed to record all stillbirths. How was it hushed up?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Davy must be Master Stratton’s heir yet he’s not legally his son. Were no questions asked at the time? How were you persuaded to part with him?’

‘They forced me to sign a document, renouncing my claim to Davy. Everything was to be kept secret. Doctor Winche knew a lawyer who arranged it all.’

Nicholas guessed his name. ‘Robert Partridge?’

‘I couldn’t tell you that, sir. They kept me out of it.’ She turned to him in quiet despair. ‘What’s going to happen to Davy, sir? He’s apprenticed to your company, I know, but his heart is not in it. He hates being taken away from me. Will you force him to go back to London with you?’

‘It’s not up to me, Kate. It’s something we’ll have to discuss very carefully. But there are other things to be resolved first,’ he said, rising to his feet. ‘Thank you so much for what you’ve told me. I can see how much it’s cost you.’ He pointed to the kitchen door and smiled. ‘Go back to your son.’

‘But there’s something I haven’t told you, sir.’

‘Is there?’

‘The name of Davy’s father.’

‘I think I know that.’

Jerome Stratton was furious. He stamped around the room and waved his arms wildly. During an acrimonious debate, his voice was the loudest and most bitter.

‘Why on earth wasn’t I told about this earlier?’ he demanded.

‘Because you would’ve tried to stop me,’ said Romball Taylard.

‘That’s certainly true.’

‘I wasn’t party to this either,’ said Doctor Winche defensively. ‘Romball acted of his own accord and I had to cover for him.’

Stratton rounded on the doctor. ‘You’re as much to blame as him. Why didn’t you tell me the full truth when you called at my house? Damnation!’ he exclaimed. ‘You were there yesterday when Nicholas Bracewell told me that poison had been used to kill Robert Partridge. You assured me that he was wrong.’

‘What else could I do, Jerome? This has to be kept quiet.’

‘How?’

‘Quite easily,’ said Taylard, trying to take control of the discussion.

The three men were in the steward’s private apartment. While the other guests were still mingling down below, Stratton and Winche had slipped upstairs for an urgent conference with Taylard. Alone of the spectators, they had not enjoyed the performance.

‘All that we have to do is to stick together,’ insisted Taylard.

‘We can’t do that if you keep me in the dark,’ growled Stratton.

‘There was no need for you to know. If that meddling Nicholas Bracewell had not interfered, this whole business would have blown over. Robert Partridge would have gone quietly to his grave and,’ he said pointedly, looking from one man to the other, ‘nobody in this room would have mourned him.’

‘That’s certainly true.’

‘Yes,’ added Winche. ‘Robert was becoming a problem.’

‘He won’t bother us any more,’ said Taylard smoothly. ‘His secrets will be buried with him. I thought to kill two birds with one stone. That’s why I procured the poison from Mother Pigbone. You know how fond Robert was of wine. He drank so much of it before the play that he didn’t notice when I slipped a powder into his cup.’

‘But why ?’ asked Stratton.

‘And why not forewarn me?’ bleated Winche.

‘What were you trying to do, man?’

‘Disrupt the performance in the middle,’ said Taylard, ‘and stop it in its tracks. That would have taken the shine off Westfield’s Men. Who would want to come to see them play when they heard about a violent death in the audience? Their visit here might have been brought to a premature end. But,’ he added with a curl of his lip, ‘Robert Partridge had a stronger constitution than I bargained for. The poison was too slow to take effect. By the time he fell, the play was almost over.’

‘Yes,’ said Winche irritably, ‘and I was left in the awkward position of lying about the cause of death.’

‘It’s not the first time you’ve done that, doctor,’ Taylard reminded him. ‘We’d have got away with it if Nicholas Bracewell hadn’t poked his nose in.’

‘He knows too much.’

‘That’s why I tried to silence him as well.’

Stratton was appalled. ‘It was you who shot at him in the forest?’

‘Killing him is the one sure way to evict the company from Silvermere.’

‘But you didn’t succeed, Romball,’ said Winche anxiously, ‘and the fellow’s still on our tail. He’s been hounding Mother Pigbone about the poison.’

‘I want no part of this,’ declared Stratton, heading for the door. ‘I can’t condone murder. You two can dig yourselves out of this hole on your own.’

Winche took his arm to stop him. ‘You’re in this with us, Jerome.’

‘Not any more!’

Stratton flung him aside and stormed out of the room, leaving the door wide open. Winche began to lose his nerve. He moistened dry lips with his tongue.

‘We’re done for, Romball,’ he decided. ‘I’m going to make a run for it.’

‘No!’ shouted Taylard.

‘The truth is going to come out.’

‘Not if we get rid of Nicholas Bracewell.’

‘How can we possibly do that?’

‘I was about to ask the same question?’ said Nicholas, appearing on cue in the doorway. ‘I was hoping to find you here, Master Taylard. I wanted to talk to you about your son — Davy Stratton.’

‘You see?’ cried Winche in alarm. ‘I told you that he knows too much.’

Nicholas smiled. ‘I know everything.’

Taylard reacted with speed. Grabbing hold of the doctor, he pushed him hard in the direction of Nicholas. The collision gave him vital seconds to make his escape into the bedchamber. Nicholas went after him but found the door locked. He tried to force it with his shoulder. When it would not give way, he snatched up a stout chair and used it to pound away at the door. When the lock finally sprung open, he dashed into the room only to find that Taylard was not there. Cold air blew in through an open window. Nicholas ran over to it and was just in time to see a tall figure, making his way across a flat section of the roof towards the tower. He did not hesitate. Clambering through the window, he picked his way carefully across the slippery surface. Taylard disappeared through a door in the side of the tower. By the time that Nicholas reached it, the steward was several yards above him, struggling towards the edge of the parapet with a cannon ball in his hands. Had the stone missile hit him, Nicholas’s head would have been smashed to a pulp but he just managed to dodge it, flinging himself through the door as the cannon ball crashed down through the roof.