‘If you think you can solve the riddle of my son-in-law’s death, we shall be glad to see you,’ he answered heavily. He glanced somewhat shamefacedly at his daughter, where she still stood framed in the open doorway. ‘I’m sorry, my dear, but I’ve had to tell Master Chapman everything.’
‘If by that you mean that Gideon seems to have gone around accusing me of adultery,’ Isolda replied evenly, ‘it’s only what I should have expected you to do, Father. There’s no need to apologise. Thanks to the testimony of Gregory Napier and Master Ford, the apothecary, everyone in Cheapside has heard about it.’
I half expected her to plunge into a hot denial of her late husband’s allegation, but she did no such thing, and I began to realise that heat and Isolda Bonifant were strangers to one another. She was a woman of even greater self-control and self-containment than my Adela but, then, according to Master Babcary, Gideon had been of a similar temperament, and they seemed to have been eminently well suited to one another. It was possible, however, that one of them had been acting a part.
I took my leave of Mistress Bonifant and was conducted downstairs again by my host. As we turned towards the inner shop door, Meg Spendlove emerged, and at the sight of me, she shied like a startled horse. The tin tray she was carrying by her side clattered against the wall, and her thin, white face puckered as though she were about to burst into tears.
‘There, there, my good child,’ Miles Babcary said soothingly, ‘that will do. There’s no need to be frightened. No one’s going to hurt you. Have you taken Master Kit and young Toby their ale? That’s all right, then. Off you go to the kitchen before something boils over and puts out the fire.’ He added, so that only I could hear, ‘Not an infrequent occurrence, I do assure you, Master Chapman.’
Christopher Babcary and Tobias Maybury were still at their work, the interior of the shop lit now by lamps and candles, the flames reflected a hundred times over in the depths of the various gold and silver objects and precious gems. Many more of the sparkling golden medallions had been made, ready to be bought and sewn on the silk and velvet gowns of London’s wealthiest ladies, so that they could ripple with light whenever they moved. No doubt, I thought bitterly, there was some sumptuary law that restricted the medallions’ use to noblewomen only, but then I had to smile as I considered that probably no such law was necessary. For what good would these fragile, wafer-thin golden discs be to women who wore homespun and coarse, thickly woven linen?
Master Babcary was looking around in obvious satisfaction, his troubles momentarily forgotten. He was a man who plainly loved his trade, and who was never happier than when he was in his workshop. He would have had little time, then, for a man like Gideon Bonifant, who seemed to have regarded the art of goldsmithing merely as a means of making money. And as if to confirm that impression, Miles had taken my arm and was drawing me towards a small table where a coronet of entwined gold and silver ivy leaves was taking shape.
‘For my kinswoman, Mistress Shore,’ he said, picking it up and holding it lovingly between both hands, ‘to be worn next week at the Westminster Tournament, in honour of the new little bride and bridegroom. It is to be set with these Scottish pearls and Egyptian emeralds.’ He sighed wistfully. ‘I would have designed a grander circlet if only she would have permitted it. But Jane gave strict instructions that I should make nothing for her that would in any way outshine the jewels to be worn by the Queen or any of Her Highness’s sisters.’
He replaced the coronet on the table and linked one of his arms through mine, giving it a little squeeze, well away by now on what was obviously his favourite hobby horse. ‘One of the finest examples of the goldsmith’s art that I have ever had the privilege of seeing was the wedding coronet of our own Princess Margaret, when she married the Duke of Burgundy ten years ago this summer. Alas, I had no hand in the fashioning of it — I only wish that I had — but it was put on display with other items of her dowry, including all her jewellery, in the Goldsmiths’ Hall in the weeks before her wedding. It was small and was meant to perch on the top of her head to show off that beautiful long, fair hair of hers. It was made of gold and decorated with enamelled white roses, rubies, emeralds and sapphires. In the front was a diamond cross and a huge pearl set in another white rose; and all along the lower edge, “C”s and “M”s were wrought in gold and linked by lovers’ knots. Oh, it was a splendid piece of work, Master Chapman, I can tell you! It made me proud of my calling and of my fellow goldsmiths who had made it.’
I encountered Christopher Babcary’s amused glance, and he winked at me.
‘I think the chapman wants to be off, Uncle. It’s wet and dark outside. He’s wanting the comforts of the Voyager, I reckon.’
‘Of course! Of course! My boy, you should have said. But beauty delights me.’
He led me towards the street door and the display booth, where the glitter of precious metal still enlivened the darkness. Soon everything would be taken inside and safely locked away for the night but, for the moment, the windows of the goldsmiths’ shops in West Cheap continued to sparkle like so many heavenly constellations.
As I was about to escape into the murk of the January evening, Master Babcary grabbed my arm and detained me yet again.
‘My father, you know,’ he said, his eyes glowing with excitement, ‘saw the crown brought to this country by King Richard’s first queen, Anne of Bohemia, at the end of the last century. He told me that it was the most exquisite thing he had ever laid eyes on in the whole of his life. He said it was six inches tall at its highest point, straight-sided and set with the most glorious array of jewels: scores of diamonds, rubies and sapphires and more than a hundred pearls.’ Master Babcary’s transports suddenly died away in a heavy sigh. The light left his eyes and his shoulders sagged. ‘It’s gone from these shores now, alas! It was given away by the usurper, Henry of Bolingbroke, as a part of his daughter’s dowry when he married her to Ludwig of Bavaria.’
‘Uncle!’ Christopher Babcary had come to stand beside us and slipped an affectionate arm around the older man’s shoulders. ‘Master Chapman needs to be off, and we have to start packing up for the night. Besides, it’s suppertime and I’m ravenous. My stomach is positively rumbling with all those delicious cooking smells wafting in from the kitchen.’
My host was contrite. ‘You must forgive me, lad. My family have heard all my tales so often that they derive no pleasure from hearing them any more, so a stranger is a godsend to me. Well, well! We shall see you again on Monday then.’ He shook my hand vigorously and swung round on his heel, immediately berating the unfortunate apprentice for some sin of omission or commission, I wasn’t sure which.
Christopher Babcary grinned as he opened the outer door. ‘You musn’t mind Uncle Miles,’ he apologised quietly. ‘His enthusiasm for his work can become a little wearisome after a while, and you have to ask him — politely, of course, but firmly — not to repeat all the anecdotes that you’ve heard a hundred times before. But don’t you worry! I’ll make sure he doesn’t bore you too much while you’re here.’
I thanked him, but assured him that I really didn’t mind. ‘How did his son-in-law take Master Babcary’s stories?’
Christopher’s face lost its animation. ‘Gideon was never one to wrap things up in clean linen. He would tell my uncle bluntly to hold his noise; that he had no interest in what he was saying. Indeed, Gideon made no secret of the fact that he found goldsmithing itself extremely irksome. He once told Uncle Miles to his face that he would sell the shop as soon as he was master here.’
I nodded. I should have liked to continue the conversation, but instinct told me that it was not the right time. Christopher wanted to be away to his supper, and I needed to go back to the inn to find out how Adela was faring. I therefore bade him goodnight and stepped out into the wind and the rain.