As Martha and I walked home in the dawn light, I realized that the awful events of the previous night had forged a bond between us. Martha asked me questions about Elizabeth’s travail and all the things I had done to ease her labor. I explained a few of midwifery’s mysteries. While a stranger might not have noticed the difference, I think we both knew that from that day forward we would be not just mistress and servant, but friends as well.
“Did you know the man who was murdered?” Martha asked.
“Stephen Cooper? Not as well as I knew his wife. Esther is a dear friend. She often assists me when I attend her neighbors in travail. She was with me yesterday morning. I have tried to convince her to become my deputy so I could teach her more about the art of midwifery, but Stephen insisted she become a mother before a midwife. She was desperate for children; this will be a terrible blow for her.” I shook my head, unable to believe that Esther had become a widow in the few hours since we last saw each other. I paused for a moment. “Martha, we need to talk about what happened before we arrived at Elizabeth’s.”
“My lady, I had no choice!” she cried. “You saw what he intended to do.”
“I know, I know,” I assured her. “He met an end no worse than he deserved, and if necessary I will swear to that before the Justices. I will protect you as I would my own daughter.”
“And you won’t report his death?”
“It’s a bit late for that now,” I said. “Justice could not be served any better than it has, and in these uncertain times it might well miscarry. I will talk to my brother, and see what he knows about the case.” A look of concern crossed Martha’s face. “Don’t worry,” I continued. “Midwives trade in gossip the way he does in wool. My questions won’t seem unusual. I’ll also find out what he knows about Stephen Cooper’s death.”
We arrived home as the sun appeared over the city’s rooftops. Hannah prepared a small meal for us. While I ate by myself in the dining room, I could hear Martha telling Hannah the details of Elizabeth Asquith’s labor and delivery and of Stephen Cooper’s possible murder. After eating, I told Hannah to take over Martha’s duties for the morning so she could sleep, and then I retired to my chamber. It was the Sabbath, but I did not think the Lord would begrudge our absence from that morning’s service. After prayers I fell into a deep sleep, mercifully free of dreams.
I awoke feeling refreshed to the noonday sun streaming in my windows. When Hannah came to help me dress, she brought news of Stephen Cooper’s murder, or at least rumors about it. Even in the midst of a siege, the death of a wealthy merchant could capture the city’s imagination.
“It’s all the neighborhood is talking of,” Hannah said. “Mr. Baker said that Mr. Cooper was murdered by the rebels.”
“What?” I cried. “That’s ridiculous! Why would they do that?”
“Mr. Baker didn’t say, but I heard Mr. Lee swear that it was the King’s men who killed him. He said Stephen Cooper was a precise fool and a Puritan.”
“Well, he was that,” I admitted. “But if the King’s men killed all the Puritans, we’d bury half the city’s Aldermen within the week.”
Hannah laughed. “Mrs. Lee disagreed, said Mr. Lee didn’t know anything about the case.”
“That’s unusually sensible for her,” I said. Mrs. Lee was a notorious gossip and did little to distinguish truth from lies.
“She said that Mr. Cooper was murdered by Mrs. Cooper and her lover. ‘Just like in Arden of Faversham!’ she said.”
“Once idle tongues start wagging, there is no end to the trouble,” I said, shaking my head in wonder. “Is Martha awake?”
“Yes, my lady. She’s doing laundry.”
“Tell her I’m going out shortly, and I’ll need her to accompany me.” Hannah curtsied and disappeared down the stairs.
With all of the uncertainty surrounding Cooper’s death, I decided to visit my brother-in-law, Edward. He was Phineas’s elder brother, and in the years since Phineas’s death we had remained close. Despite his relative youth, he had risen to become one of the most powerful of the city’s Aldermen and doubtless knew where the truth about Stephen’s murder ended and the rumors began. Edward was handsome, intelligent, and dedicated to the welfare of York. Unlike my husband’s pathetic efforts, Edward’s business ventures usually succeeded, and as a result he followed his father up the ladder of civic government.
After Phineas’s death, I had been beset by creditors claiming that they had loaned him money for one or another of his disastrous business ventures. Some of their claims may have been true, for nobody had ever accused Phineas of competence, but I had fought long and hard to protect my fortune from his outlandish schemes, and I had no intention of handing it over to these snakes. When it became clear how far in debt Phineas had been, I approached Edward for help. I never asked him how he accomplished his end, but within a few days, lawsuits had been withdrawn, and I even received a letter of apology from one creditor. It was said that in his youth, Edward ordered his sleeves cut an inch longer than was fashionable in order to hide the pommel of his dagger. This seemed right to me.