‘Hear, hear!’ said James, grinning. ‘If, that is, he is Grandfather’s son, which I very much doubt.’
It was hardly to be expected that Lady Marvell would let this remark pass unchallenged and she was on her feet immediately, demanding that Cyprian force his son to apologize for the slur on her good name. It was at this point that Cyprian noticed me standing just inside the door and roared at them all to be silent. He hastened forward to greet me.
‘Master Chapman, is it not? Have you brought us news of my father? Has Sergeant Manifold or Sergeant Merryweather sent you?’
‘I’m afraid not.’ Was there a flicker of relief on Patience Marvell’s face? ‘I’m here to beg some information from you.’
There was a short silence before the older man cleared his throat and said, ‘Yes. Yes, of course. Ask us what you like, if you think it will help find my father.’
James slid off his window seat and lounged over to the fire, standing behind his mother’s chair and dropping one hand protectively on Joanna’s shoulder. Not to be outdone, Bartholomew followed suit, taking up his stance beside Patience.
I addressed my question to Cyprian as temporary head of the household, although I thought it more likely that if anyone had an answer it would be one of the women.
‘Master Marvell, I’ve been told that some three or so years ago a young man — or, at least, a man of about my age — wanted to marry Dame Drusilla.’
I got no further in face of an outburst of laughter from James. ‘A man of your age wanted to marry Great-Aunt Drusilla! What nonsense is this?’
Bartholomew sniggered.
‘Be quiet, the pair of you!’ Cyprian commanded. ‘It happens to be true, although I was not aware that the story was common knowledge.’ An unbecoming flush spread over his homely features.
‘True?’ demanded his son incredulously. ‘Why did I never hear of it?’
‘We were living in Clifton then. There was no reason why you should be told. In fact, the fewer people who knew, the better. The man was a scoundrel and after one thing only: Aunt Drusilla’s money. Fortunately, Robert Trefusis found out about it and had the good sense to inform Father of what was going on. Father soon put a stop to the affair, as you may well imagine.’
‘Put a stop to it?’ James grinned broadly. ‘You don’t mean the old lady was encouraging this bully-boy?’
‘She intended to marry him,’ Cyprian replied tersely.
‘Well, well!’ James’s eyes were alight with merriment. ‘Who’d have thought the old girl had so much spunk in her?’
Bartholomew sniggered again. For a moment, nephew and uncle were at one.
‘What did Grandfather do?’ the former wanted to know. ‘Pay the young puppy to go away?’
‘I believe he took his horsewhip to him.’ Cyprian took a deep breath, adding after a moment, ‘I’m afraid he half-killed him.’ He turned back to me. ‘Master Chapman, I hope you have a good reason for resurrecting this very painful episode in my family’s past?’
‘I wondered, sir, if you, or someone else, can recollect the name of the man in question and where he came from.’
Everyone turned to stare at me. ‘Is it important?’ Cyprian asked, echoing Margaret Walker’s words of the previous day.
I gave him the same answer. ‘It might be.’
Joanna Marvell, who seemed quicker-witted than the others, asked, ‘Do you think this man had something to do with Alderman Trefusis’s murder? That he might have harmed Sir George?’
‘God’s toenails!’ Bartholomew swore, and this time was not reproved by his mother. In fact, Patience’s expression was, I thought, a peculiar one. A barely suppressed smirk lifted the corners of her rather thin lips as though, in her opinion, I was making a fool of myself; as though she could tell us all the truth if she chose to. I felt more than ever convinced that the person she had wanted Briant to abduct was her husband, and that in spite of Briant’s subsequent refusal, she now thought he had changed his mind and carried Sir George off to Ireland. She was probably waiting, a little nervously, for him to reappear and claim his money.
The rest of them, however, were all exclaiming, expressing either doubts about my theory or hailing it as a possible answer to the mystery.
‘Can you remember either the young man’s name or where he came from?’ I repeated, cutting across this babel.
Cyprian Marvell shook his head and looked enquiringly at the two women. ‘Joanna? Stepmother? Can either of you recall his name? As to where he came from, I believe …’ He paused, obviously searching his memory, then nodded decisively. ‘I feel sure he came from Clifton way.’
‘You’re right,’ his wife agreed. ‘I think his parents rented one of those smallholdings belonging to the manor.’ She sucked in her breath sharply. ‘And now I come to think of it, I seem to remember your father saying that he had used his influence with the lord to get them turned off his land.’
If this were true, it was food for thought indeed. ‘Do you recall the name of the family, Mistress Marvell?’ I pressed.
‘Try to recollect, my dear,’ Cyprian encouraged her. ‘Your memory is so much better than mine.’
I could barely restrain myself from giving her a hint, but I managed to keep a still tongue in my head. At last, however, after what seemed an age, Joanna nodded briskly.
‘Yes, I can remember Father-in-law saying that the family’s name was Deakin and that the son was called Miles.’
Cyprian slapped his thigh. ‘You’re right, my love. Now you mention it I, too, recall that that was the fellow’s name. Miles Deakin! Do you remember, Stepmother?’
‘Yes,’ Patience said slowly. ‘I do recollect now that that was his name. But why is Master Chapman so sure that this man has anything to do with your father’s disappearance?’
‘Lady Marvell,’ I said, ‘I am not sure. Far from it. But the last word Alderman Trefusis uttered before he died was the name Dee. Now, no one seems to know of anyone so called, and it occurred to me that perhaps it was only the beginning of another name altogether.’
‘Deakin!’ exclaimed James. He regarded me shrewdly. ‘You already knew the name, Master Chapman. Someone else has mentioned it to you. Admit it. You just wanted my parents’ and grandmother’s confirmation.’
‘I’ve told you not to call me by that name, James,’ Patience stormed at him, before I could answer. ‘I am not your grandmother.’
He grinned insolently. ‘Step-Grandmother, then.’
‘Be quiet, boy,’ his father snapped. He turned once again to me. ‘What made you think of this man?’
‘It was just a thought, sir,’ I answered cagily. ‘My wife’s cousin, Mistress Walker, had told me the story of Dame Drusilla’s quarrel with her brother; the reason for the enmity between them. And her friend, Goody Simnel, told me the young man’s name.’ Here, Lady Marvell gave a snort and muttered something about ‘Redcliffe gossips’. I continued as though she hadn’t spoken. ‘When I heard that it was Deakin, the thought crossed my mind that maybe that was what Alderman Trefusis had been trying to say. If he had recognized Miles Deakin, it’s possible he was trying to warn Sir George.’
Cyprian Marvell was looking as excited as a man of his phlegmatic temperament could do. ‘You’ve informed the authorities of your suspicions, of course?’
‘Not yet. I have no proof whatsoever to implicate this Miles Deakin, but now that you and Mistress Marvell’ — I nodded at Joanna — ‘have confirmed his name I think I should put the suggestion to Sergeant Manifold.’
‘You must! You must!’ Cyprian was emphatic. ‘Indeed, I shall make my own enquiries regarding this Miles Deakin. Do you have any other reason, apart from his name, to believe he might be the alderman’s murderer? The man who, possibly, has abducted my father?’
‘In all truthfulness, no. Dame Drusilla did mention to me, however, when I called on her yesterday, that, the previous afternoon, she had noticed a man in a bird mask staring up at this house. That same night, Sir George vanished. But who the person was there’s no means of telling, nor if he had anything to do with your father’s disappearance. At this season of the year, the wearing of masks is commonplace. All the same, I have never liked coincidences.’