Free The Midwife's Tale by Sam Thomas

surprise, she seemed on the verge of tears. What was going on?
    “Of course you can’t be sure. But it is my responsibility to investigate rumors such as this. If I am going to do that, I need you to tell me the name.” She tried to free herself, but I squeezed her wrists all the harder. “Mary, you must tell me.” I squeezed again and she cried out in pain.
    “All right,” she said at last. “But you must promise never to tell anyone that you heard it from me.” I nodded. “It is Anne Goodwin, Margaret Goodwin’s daughter.” I continued to look at her. I knew Margaret—her husband, Daniel, was a poor cobbler in St. John del Pyke, north of the Minster—but I could sense that it was not the Goodwins who frightened her.
    “Go on,” I said.
    “She is maidservant to Richard Hooke.” Ah, I thought, now I see. Richard Hooke was not a man who usually inspired this kind of fear, but his wife, Rebecca, was made of stronger and more vicious stuff than he. Indeed, Rebecca was the most powerful and malevolent woman I’d ever had the misfortune to encounter. If the devil ever chose to take human form, he would do well to study Rebecca Hooke beforehand. Though none would say so aloud, it was whispered that she was the illegitimate child of a maidservant seduced by her master. But thanks to her natural guile and (I must admit) her astonishing beauty, she had overcome this stain and found a rich husband. In many ways, her Richard had much in common with my Phineas. Both men came from wealthy families, and both lacked any inclination to think for themselves. In the end, this reluctance to think was probably for the best, as neither had any brains to speak of. Richard did as Rebecca told him, blissfully unaware that the growth in his political influence and family fortune was entirely her doing. Rebecca ruthlessly pursued power on behalf of both her weakling husband and her even weaker son, James. Rebecca gave birth to James soon— too soon, according to some—after she married Richard. Some said she had wanted Richard to get her with child so she could coerce him into marrying her. Others went further and said she had bewitched him. Whatever the case, James took after his father in every way. Even as a boy, he’d been accounted little more than a common idiot, and he’d not improved with time.
    Given the men with whom she had been saddled, Rebecca had to go to great lengths to advance her family’s fortunes. Her favored weapon was gossip, which she sought out with little concern for its veracity and used ruthlessly to destroy those who stood in her path. This was why Mary had been so reluctant to speak. If Rebecca suspected Mary of spreading the rumors about her maidservant, Mary’s reputation would be in tatters by morning. I considered how best to proceed when I heard a cry from the parlor followed by the breaking of glass. I hurried in and found the women staring in shock at a late-arriving gossip. Susan Dobson leaned on the edge of a table, surrounded by broken glass and red wine. I turned to the gossip nearest me, seeking an explanation.
    “Esther Cooper has been arrested for the murder of her husband,” she breathed. “She’ll be tried tomorrow and executed within days.”
    This news transformed the company’s spirits. Until now, gossiping about Stephen Cooper’s murder entailed flights of fancy. They had imagined a foreign assassin stealing into the house and slipping the poison into his cup. They wondered if a business rivalry had gone too far or if Cooper had been murdered by his highborn mistress. In every case, Esther had been a bystander, grieving at her husband’s death but in no way responsible. They had even imagined a future for her—she was young, pretty, and wealthy. She could remarry if she chose or enjoy a long and prosperous widowhood. But now she stood accused of petty treason.
    I listened in horror as the company of women turned against her. Within minutes of the news, the women invented