The Midwife's Tale(61)

“Your sister and the child’s father seem to be taking good care of you,” I said. “Have you made arrangements for baptism?”

“We should like to do it on Sunday. Will you be there to name her?” she asked hopefully. At that I was torn. Sunday also would be the christening of a child I had delivered just before Mercy’s, and I had already agreed to attend that one.

“Mercy, it pains me to say this, but I cannot be there,” I said gently, and explained the conflict. “But as is my practice, I can send Martha in my stead. She has assisted me in many births.” Mercy looked at Martha, who nodded encouragingly and then glanced at me, uncertain of what she had just agreed to do.

Before leaving, I slipped ten shillings into Mercy’s hand. She looked at me in shock—it was more than she could have hoped to earn in two months. As she stammered her thanks, I swaddled the child and gave her back. With that, I embraced both Mercy and Sairy and bade them farewell, and then Martha and I started toward my home. When we arrived, we found the guard in place, no crisis brewing, and dinner almost ready. Compared with past days, this seemed like no small victory.

A few minutes after we had dined, Will appeared at the door, and I met him in the parlor. As he entered, he looked at me with concern. “An armed guard at your front door, Aunt Bridget?” he said. “Surely your maid wasn’t so dangerous as that, or so foolhardy as to return after you dismissed her.”

“Martha is still in my household,” I said. Will’s mouth gaped in surprise, and he started to speak, but I continued. “The guard is here on her account, but not for the reason you think. The man you saw her with in the market is as dangerous as you thought. He is a thief and murderer from Hereford. But he is her brother, not her accomplice. She came to York in hope of escaping from him, and he followed.”

“How do you know all this?” he asked worriedly.

“She told me.”

“Aunt Bridget, you can’t be serious! You are inviting danger into your home. Who knows what she has planned.”

I crossed the room and took Will’s hand. “I appreciate your concern,” I said. “But I believe her, and unless she gives me a reason to rethink my decision, it is final. You will see that she is a good and trustworthy servant.”

“I hope you are right. But why has he followed her here? He does not seem to be the kind of man driven by a brother’s love for his sister.”

“That is an understatement,” I said with a grim smile. “She betrayed him and he won’t rest until he has his revenge. If he can rob me in the process, so much the better. It is a long story. Perhaps she will tell you one day. The guards are here until I am sure that we are safe from Tom.”

I don’t think I convinced him my decision to keep Martha was a wise one, and I was thankful when he changed the subject. “I heard from my father that you are investigating Stephen Cooper’s death. Have you found anything of interest?”

“I learned that the city officials were more interested in convicting Esther than catching the real murderer,” I said, and told him everything I had found in Stephen’s letters. “Stephen had many enemies in the city, and any one of them might have had him killed.”

“And you are hoping Rebecca Hooke had him killed over the lawsuit? It would be lovely to see her brought low.…”

“I am hoping for nothing,” I objected. “I am only trying to find out who killed Stephen Cooper. If it was the Hookes, so be it, but they are not the only ones who might have done so.”

“What is your next step?” he asked. “You could visit Richard and ask if he murdered Stephen.” He paused, considering the idea. “In truth, that might work. If he did do it, he is just fool enough to tell you. You’d have to find a way past Rebecca, though.”

“No, I’m taking a less direct route first,” I said with a laugh. I then told him about Stephen’s troubled relationship with Charles Yeoman and my intention to visit him that afternoon.

“Charles Yeoman!” he said with a low whistle. “The Member of Parliament? I heard that he’d retired to York in order to avoid involvement in the wars. He was a powerful man in his time.”

“I don’t care about his politics. I just hope he can help me with this case. Would you like to accompany us?”

“Of course,” he said. “There is no harm in making connections with such a man.”

At that moment, Martha came from the kitchen and began to clean the dining room. While she worked, Will kept a close eye on her, as if he expected to catch her in the act of stealing my silver plate. I saw that Martha had been right: Will was terrible at spying. I couldn’t tell if she was more annoyed by his suspicion or his lack of subtlety. Eventually her patience ran out.