The Prodigal Son by Kate Sedley

Author:Kate Sedley [Sedley, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense
Publisher: Severn House
Published: 2006-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Eleven

I had forgotten that the next day was Sunday, so I naturally postponed my journey home until the Monday. Travelling on the Sabbath, then as now, was not generally acceptable unless it was a matter of life and death.

The night before, I had again shared Anthony Bellknapp’s bed, and had once more taken it upon myself to caution him about his conduct. I had, of course, no right to do so, being a guest and a stranger; but in the curtained intimacy of the four-poster, I felt I might stand a better chance of being attended to than George Applegarth and his necessarily perfunctory warnings. But I was wrong. Anthony merely yawned and told me to mind my own business. He was perfectly justified, and for me to have pursued the subject further would have done no good. Indeed, it could have done positive harm. So I changed tack and informed him that I would be returning to Bristol first thing on Monday morning.

‘Hell’s teeth! I haven’t upset you that much, have I?’ he laughed. ‘It’s just that I won’t have people instructing me what and what not to do.’

‘You are perfectly entitled to tell me to keep my nose out of your affairs,’ I agreed. ‘No, no! It’s not that. But I’ve done as much as I can and —’ I broke off, realizing that my tongue had run away with me.

Anthony heaved himself up in the bed, arms clasped around his knees, and, turning his head, looked down at me curiously.

‘Done as much as you can about what?’ he asked, adding, ‘You know, I’ve had an idea there was more to your visit here than met the eye.’

I had told George Applegarth the truth, so I might as well be frank with Anthony. Besides, it suddenly struck me that I could try to enlist his interest in persuading Dame Audrea that she had no case against my half-brother without stronger support than that of Edward Micheldever. In any case, Anthony would probably enjoy putting a spoke in the receiver’s wheel. So I explained my personal interest in proving John Wedmore innocent of the charge against him.

‘What’s more, I fully intend to do it,’ I said with greater confidence than I actually felt.

‘Great boast, small roast,’ my companion grinned in a tone of voice that was bordering on a sneer.

Now I can honestly say that I didn’t often blow my own trumpet – in fact, I sometimes went to considerable lengths to keep my past achievements quiet – but there was a condescension in the way he spoke that riled me, and before I could stop myself, I was giving him details of all my past successes in unravelling the various mysteries and problems that had come my way (in the course of which I naturally had to touch on the work I had done for the Duke of Gloucester).

‘So you see,’ I finished, ‘I do have some experience of discovering the truth.’

By this time, of course, I was

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