An Anne Perry Christmas_ Two Holiday Novels - Anne Perry [57]
Thoughts teemed through Henry's mind, an awareness that there was a new dimension he had not even thought of, and pain he would not be able to read in Ephraim as well as he had in Benjamin, depths he could neither understand nor help. And yet there was no alternative. Now was the moment.
“Benjamin is already here,” he answered the easiest question first. “He arrived two days ago…”
Ephraim turned toward him, blue eyes puzzled. “Is he all right?”
“No,” Henry said frankly. “We are none of us all right. Judah died in an accident eight days ago.” He looked at Ephraim's face as the shock struck him, followed by disbelief, then pain. “I am sorry I am the one to tell you, but the lawyer called this morning regarding certain estate matters, and Benjamin stayed with Antonia to see him.”
“Hunting?” Ephraim said hoarsely. Judah seldom hunted, but it was the only way to keep foxes down in the Lakeland, and they devastated sheep if left. Ewes and lambs had their throats torn out, whole flocks of chickens could be slaughtered.
“No,” Henry replied, and told him briefly all they knew so far.
Ephraim huddled into his coat as if suddenly the wind cut through it and it was no protection to his body. “Where on earth was he going?” he asked huskily. “At night?”
“We don't know. He said it was just to get a little air before going to bed. They had all been at the village listening to a visiting musician. A violinist. He had actually played a small piece Joshua had written.”
“Joshua?” Ephraim repeated the name. “Judah said he was brilliant. He was so proud of him.” He controlled himself with difficulty. There was nothing in his face, but his voice broke. “I brought something for Joshua from Africa. Seems irrelevant now.”
“It won't be, later,” Henry assured him. “Benjamin brought him a beautiful gift also, a piece of scripture, original, in a carved wooden box.”
“I brought him a chief's necklace of office, an African version of a crown,” Ephraim said. “It's made of gold and ivory. At a glance it seems barbaric, but when you look more closely it's very beautifully carved. Nothing like European at all. I suppose you are right, and in time he will like it. Today it'll seem utterly pointless.”
“That is not all I need to tell you before we get to the house,” Henry went on. They were making quite good speed. The wind had cleared most of the snow off the road. There were one or two places where it had drifted, and they got out and took the spades from the space where the luggage was and helped Wiggins dig a path. Henry saw Ephraim attack the heavy piles with an energy born of anger, his back bent, his weight thrown behind each shovelful. Then they put the spades back and climbed up again to go forward. It was necessary only three times.
“What else?” Ephraim asked without interest when they were on their way again and the broad, white-flecked surface of the lake lay ahead.
“Ashton Gower is out of prison and saying that he was wrongly convicted. The deeds were genuine, and Judah knew it,” Henry answered, pulling the rug a little tighter around both of them. His feet were wet, as were the bottoms of his trousers.
“That's nonsense.” Ephraim dismissed it as of no worth, even to discuss.
“I know it is nonsense,” Henry agreed. “But he is repeating it very insistently, and Benjamin feels it is important that he is stopped. There are many people in the village who were not there at the time of the trial, and don't know the truth. He is being offensive, and causing Antonia some distress. We cannot ignore him.” He did not add that Benjamin suspected the possibility of his having been involved in Judah's death. Ephraim was not as easy for him to read, and he was uncertain of his anger, or the depth of his pain.
Ephraim did not reply for some time, at least another hundred yards farther along the road. Now the white roofs of the village houses were clear in the hard light and the trees