[Ela of Salisbury 03] - The Lost Child by J. G. Lewis

Author:J. G. Lewis [Lewis, J. G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, Historical
ISBN: 9781939941565
Google: kshfzQEACAAJ
Amazon: B082S5XJJD
Publisher: Stoneheart Press
Published: 2020-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Ela paused for effect and watched a look of alarm rise in Bishop Poore’s pale eyes. “As Countess of Salisbury I find it my duty to see God’s will done in this small part of his creation.”

“I believe Sheriff de Hal has been charged with—”

“Sheriff de Hal has not seen fit to interest himself in the matter of the Wheatons. He showed little concern when their daughter disappeared and now does not care that they’ve been cruelly abused by the people of Salisbury. His lack of interest does not mean this matter can be swept away with the rushes. The good people of Salisbury—and I use the word good reservedly—need to be taught a lesson about Christian charity. I intend to see that the Wheaton’s house is rebuilt in its former location.”

“I don’t believe Sheriff de Hal will be happy about that.” The Bishop’s lips closed in a tight rosebud, and he wound his plump fingers in front of his robe.

Two servants entered at that moment, one carrying two cups of wine and another a fine platter bearing a spice cake rich with cherries and currants and dates.

Ela took the cup offered her but politely refused the sickly sweet cake. Her stomach wouldn’t tolerate such overindulgence this early in the day.

After the servants had left, she sipped her wine, then put the cup down on the table. “Simon de Hal may be sheriff of Salisbury at this moment, but he will not be sheriff of Salisbury forever. The king, whom I visited while in London, is in favor of my taking on the role once my period of mourning is over.”

His mouth formed a tiny round O.

“So I do not intend to sit quietly at my manor embroidering while the town of New Salisbury becomes a place where a family can be robbed of their children or driven from their home.”

“Quite.” She could sense his brain working fast beneath his scented hair. “But I fail to see how I fit into this…scheme.”

“Good triumphing over evil is hardly a scheme, Bishop Poore.” Ela drew herself up to her full height. “It’s your role as the Bishop of Salisbury—and God’s highest representative here—to ensure that His will be done. Do you think that God wants innocent children to be stolen from their homes?”

“Well, no…”

“Do you think God wants the people of Salisbury to decide who gets to live here in a trial by fire?”

He hesitated and for a horrible moment she thought he was actually asking himself this question. “No. But there are other places to live than Salisbury. Neither of them grew up in this area.”

“Where you born in Salisbury, Bishop Poore?”

“Well, no—”

“Yet you find yourself here and I know you take a keen interest in the spiritual and physical health of our residents. You’ve no doubt saved countless lives with your weekly exhortations that children not be left unattended near fire or water.”

“I have prevented a few tragedies, I trust.” He glanced at the cake.

“One tragedy prevented enriches countless lives, and I am inspired by your example.

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