Free A Chorus of Innocents by P. F. Chisholm

cutting back the hazels, and Sim Routledge to take the corpse into the crypt of the church. Then I turned out the women to clear the blood from everywhere. There was something not quite right about that.”
    Elizabeth could imagine it and how the women must have disliked being called from their own work to deal with such horror. “I was still looking for Mrs Burn but then I saw that Prince was missing from the stable and that was when I knew she betrayed her husband.”
    Elizabeth got up to light a taper which made the wrinkled planes of Lady Hume’s face even stronger. “That’s what you learn from that kind of nonsense in books, you mark my words,” she added.
    â€œGoodness,” said Elizabeth, working hard not to sound sarcastic. “And why did she do it? After all she now has nothing since the living was settled on the minister and she doesn’t have much for a jointure and the babe on the way. I’m not certain she has anything at jointure. At least I have five hundred pounds a year when Sir Henry dies.” When I’m old and grey at forty and Robin will have gone off and married money by then as he ought to do and as every one of his friends, including me, has advised him to do.
    â€œShe was in love with one of the strangers,” said Lady Hume with a straight face.
    â€œReally? How do you know?”
    Lady Hume’s face tilted up slightly. “It’s the only explanation for why she did it, is it no’?”
    â€œLady Hume, this is fascinating. If you know she was in love with one of the strangers, then you know his name and where he might be found.”
    â€œI do not.”
    â€œI think you do,” said Elizabeth, thoroughly annoyed with the old lady now. “I think you know a great deal more about this killing than you say. Either that or you are allowing romantic phantasy to run away with you.”
    â€œI?”
    â€œYes, Lady Hume. If you have a reason for thinking that Mrs Burn knew the strangers, then say what it is—it may help us to find them. If your only reason is that you dislike Mrs Burn, then, with respect ma’am, that is not enough.” Though it might be enough for a Scottish jury of men.
    Lady Hume glared at Elizabeth and then rose with final dignity. “Good night, Lady Widdrington, I am going tae my bed. Thank ye for the supper.”
    Elizabeth rose and curtseyed to her and watched her as she went out and to the hall where the smart stair used each of the walls in turn as support. So much for charming her like a bird out of a tree, Elizabeth thought, that’s put her against me and Poppy as well.
    Although it was cold in the rest of the house and still quite warm in the kitchen, Elizabeth felt too restless to sit there and too wide awake to go to bed yet. She slid the crock of mixed porridge into the warmer, ready for the morning, and put the curfew over the coals. She picked up the taper and went back to the parlour with its odd-looking tiles bare of rushes. It was still damp in places. She tried again to imagine what had happened.…
    The strangers come to the manse and Jamie invites them in. He goes to unlock the plate cupboard and while his back is turned, they kill him. Poppy says she was out of the room because she went to fetch the wine and wafers, so she might have come in later, perhaps after she heard the body slump to the floor. She is raped. Then the two of them leave, mount up and ride away. Later two good horses turn up south in Tully’s keeping with West March brands on them, so the men must have come from the Debateable Land or possibly Carlisle. If the horses are theirs.
    And then nothing happens. Poppy is riding desperately south on Prince; they have no live-in servants, no children, no relatives. A very peculiar household, in fact. Poppy had told Elizabeth how lonely she sometimes was in the evenings when Jamie was riding around his large parish, and Elizabeth had advised that she