Heartstone by C. J. Sansom

write down the addresses.’
    When I turned to give the paper to him he was smiling at me sardonically.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜This one has got your juices flowing, hasn’t it? I could see you were getting bored.’
    Barak sat up at the sound of his wife’s voice. We went to the door. Tamasin stood outside smiling. Guy looked happier than for some time.
    â€˜Everything is as it should be with my daughter,’ Tamasin said. ‘My little Johanna.’
    â€˜My little John,’ Barak countered.
    â€˜But you are right heavy with the child, Tamasin,’ Guy said warningly. ‘You must take things easily.’
    â€˜Yes, Dr Malton,’ she answered humbly.
    Barak took her hand. ‘You’ll listen to Dr Malton, but not to your husband and master, eh?’
    Tamasin smiled. ‘Perhaps my good master will see me home. If you can spare him, sir.’
    As they left the house, bickering amiably, Guy smiled. ‘Tamasin says Jack is over-anxious.’
    â€˜Well, I have some new work that will keep him occupied.’ I put my hand on his shoulder. ‘That is what you need too, Guy, to get back to work.’
    â€˜Not yet, Matthew. I am too - weary. And now I should wash my hands again. Unlike some of my colleagues I believe it is important, to get rid of any bad humours.’
    He went back upstairs. I felt a sudden weight of sadness, for Guy, for Ellen, for the unknown lad Hugh Curteys, for poor Michael Calfhill. I decided to walk round my garden to order my thoughts a little.
    As I came round the side of the house I saw Coldiron chopping a pile of wood with an axe. His red face was slick with sweat; it dripped down past his eyepatch, onto his nose. Josephine was beside him, twisting her hands anxiously. She seemed on the point of tears. ‘Hunchbacks,’ her father was saying. ‘Swart-coloured men, pregnant hussies falling and displaying their great bellies on the stairs.’ He jumped and looked round at the sound of my approach. Josephine’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.
    I stared at him. ‘Think yourself lucky Barak was not with me,’ I said coldly. ‘If he heard you talking of his wife like that you might find yourself on the wrong end of that axe.’ I walked round him and away. I would have dismissed him on the spot, but the look of utter fear in Josephine’s eyes had stopped me.

Chapter Five
    AN HOUR LATER Guy and I sat down to supper. Coldiron was at least a good cook, and we dined on fresh river eels with butter sauce. His manner was obsequiously respectful and he kept his eye downcast as he served us.
    When he had left the room, I told Guy about my meeting with the Queen and the Curteys case. I also said that if I were to go to Hampshire, it would be a way of investigating Ellen’s past.
    He fixed me with his keen brown eyes, hesitated a moment, then said, ‘You ought to tell her you know how she feels about you and that there is no hope.’
    I shook my head vigorously. ‘I fear the effect on her. And if I stopped going to see her, she would be alone.’
    Guy did not reply, only went on looking at me. I threw down my knife and sat back.
    â€˜If only love could always be mutual,’ I said quietly. ‘I loved Dorothy Elliard, but she could not return my love. While for Ellen I feel only - liking, yes. Pity.’
    â€˜Guilt? Because of what you cannot feel for her?’
    I hesitated. ‘Yes.’
    He said quietly, ‘It would take courage for you to tell her. To face her reaction.’
    I frowned angrily. ‘I am not thinking of myself!’
    â€˜Not at all? Are you sure?’
    â€˜The best way to help her is to find out the truth about her past!’ I snapped. ‘Then—’
    â€˜Then the problem may be handed over to someone else?’
    â€˜It does not belong with me. And finding out the truth can only help her, surely.’
    He did not reply.

    AFTERWARDS I went