Anne Perry s Christmas Mysteries Page 0,48

from all he says, an' very beautiful. Sir Thomas were so cut up by it he came home and never went back there, ever. Raised Peter himself, teaching him all about his family, the land, all that. Very close, but never got over her death. I s'pose Sir Peter didn't, either. He never married."

"There's time yet," Clarice said quickly. "He looks no more than in his forties. He'll want to keep the line going, the family, surely?"

Mrs. Wellbeloved put her weight into the scrubbing, her lips tight, soapsuds flying. She stepped sideways and nearly fell over the dog. "It's his duty," she agreed. "But he isn't doing it, for all that. Maybe that's what it was all about."

"What what was all about?" Clarice asked unashamedly.

Chapter Nine

"Used to come here often," Mrs. Wellbeloved replied, wringing out a cloth with powerful, red-knuckled hands. "Twice a week, most months. Played chess with the vicar reg'lar. Loved their game, they did. Then he stopped all of a sudden, about two years ago. Never came here since, except it were business, or with other folk. Vicar never said why, but then he wouldn't. Could keep other folks' secrets better than the grave, he could."

"You mean they quarreled?" Clarice felt a stab of disappointment. It seemed such a sad and stupid thing to do. "What quarrel could be so bad, and last so long?"

Mrs. Wellbeloved jerked upright, banging her elbow on the bucket, which was still on the table. She winced. "Well, it wouldn't be the Reverend Wynter's fault, an' that's for certain. He was the best man that ever lived in the village, whether his family went back to the manor or the workhouse! Forgive anybody anything, he would, if it were against himself. Tried over and over to make it up with Sir Peter, and Sir Peter weren't having any of it." She grunted fiercely. "But the vicar would never say a thing were right if it weren't. Fear o' God's in him like a great light, it is. Mr. Corde's a very lucky man to be allowed to step in for him over Christmas." She nodded several times. "Walk a few miles in the reverend's footsteps an' he'll be the better man for it, mark my words." She savagely wiped half the table dry, lifted the bucket onto the floor, and wiped the other half, wringing the cloth out several times.

Clarice felt defensive of Dominic, but bit her tongue rather than say anything; she needed Mrs. Wellbeloved on their side. She took a deep breath. "He seems to be a very remarkable man, even for a vicar," she said with as much humility as she could manage.

Mrs. Wellbeloved's face softened. "That he is," she agreed more gently. "Man o' God, I say. He deserves a holiday. Go off an' do more of his paintings an' drawings, that's what he needs." She looked Clarice up and down, and then turned away so her face was out of sight. "Obliged you could come." She sniffed, choking off the emotion in her voice. She picked up the bucket and threw the dirty water into the sink so hard it splashed up and a good deal of it went out again on either side, waking the cat. Etta shook herself angrily and then curled up again, nose in her tail.

Clarice considered whether to wipe the water up for Mrs. Wellbeloved, and decided against it. Better to pretend she hadn't noticed. Instead she fetched Etta a dry towel for her bed and put the kettle on for another cup of tea, and then went to dust the hall, not that it needed it.

***

There was a sharp drop in the temperature that evening and another heavy fall of snow. Dominic banked the fires high, hoping they would stay burning most of the night, so there would be at least some warmth left in the air by morning.

At dawn he looked out of his study window and saw the bleak beauty of the pale light, but he knew it meant that no one could plow through the deep drifts to leave the village-and some would find it hard even to leave their home to fetch food. This was where his ministry could begin. He had no knowledge yet at which houses he would be welcome, however, and he could not afford even one mistake. He was an outsider, temporarily taking the place of a man he realized was deeply loved.

So far he had only one source of information, Mrs.