A Moorland Hanging by Michael Jecks

Author:Michael Jecks
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: Detectives, Crime & mystery, Fiction, Great Britain, Popular English Fiction, Crime & Thriller, Murder, Puttock, Furnshill, Revenge, Historical fiction, Traditional British, Extortion, Mystery, Historical - General, Devon (England), Historical, Nobility, Fiction - Historical, Mystery & Detective - General, Mystery & Detective, Tin miners, 20th century, Simon (Fictitious character), General, Suspense, English fiction, Sir (Fictitious character), Historical mysteries, Baldwin
ISBN: 9780747250715
Publisher: Headline
Published: 1996-10-02T03:00:00+00:00

–13–

S upper that evening was a dismal affair, though John Beauscyr found it amusing. Simon, Baldwin and their men sat at the table on the dais with the family, and servants filled the hall beneath them, but there was a stilted quality to the atmosphere. Sir Ralph, John saw, was sullen, and moodily chewed his food scarcely aware of the others near him, as if he was already marked out as a coward or murderer. On the few occasions when he caught John’s glance, he looked away hurriedly, almost guiltily. Matillida was snappy, and short with the servants, at one point flinging a pot at a man’s head and screeching at him when he spilled wine on her dress, while Sir William ate quietly with a determined concentration, trying to avoid the gaze of his guests and family alike.

For his part, John was carefree and enjoying himself. His only cause for concern was Robert, his brother. He sat quietly but with a degree of nonchalance as he fastidiously pulled shreds of meat apart and ate them, which John found disturbing. If I were the bailiff, he thought, I’d want to know why he seems so free of all worries now. Out of the corner of his eye he kept a surreptitious watch on his older brother, looking for any signs which might explain his evident easiness, but as the meal finished and his father and mother made their way into their solar, the servants leaving for their rooms and the guards going to their duties or barracks, he was still no wiser.

Baldwin could see the boy’s interest in his brother, and wryly acknowledged his own fascination with Robert’s demeanor. The latter was apparently finding it hard to contain his amusement or joy. Something must have happened this afternoon, he thought. As the room emptied, Baldwin rose. Seeing Robert making for the door, he strolled after him, only dimly aware of Edgar, who immediately stood and followed. After so many years, Edgar’s presence was only remarkable when it was absent.

Seeing his prey in the stables patting a horse, Baldwin motioned to Edgar to wait, then walked over to join him.

“So, Sir Baldwin. Are you following me?” Robert Beauscyr raised an eyebrow as if to suggest sardonic amusement.

“No. But I thought I might as well come outside and enjoy the evening air when I saw you leave.”

There was good reason for his words. The sun was slowly dropping, and the sky had taken on a pink and mauve tint, making the fort and surrounding hills look like a varnished picture, smooth and gleaming. It reminded Baldwin of the fine silks he had seen traded in Cyprus. He felt as if he could reach out and touch the warm, vibrant colors. The sun had washed Robert in glowing hues. His face looked almost golden, transforming his normally dull features.

But it was not only the color. There was an urgency to the youth’s movements as he strolled round his horse. He was different now, more alive.

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