Read Online A Masterly Murder by Susanna Gregory - Free Book Online Page A

unattractive brown garment that fitted Adela’s heavy body like a
     sack around corn. ‘It suits you very well.’
    Bartholomew held his breath, certain that Adela would know she was being insulted. Adela, however, took Edith’s words at face
     value.
    ‘Well, thank you. It is a little faded, but it is one of my favourites. It is excellent for riding, because the grease in
     it means the rain runs off instead of soaking through, and it is much more comfortable than the tight garments that are so
     fashionable these days. Do you not agree, Matthew?’
    ‘It has been some time since I went riding in a dress,’ said Bartholomew, ‘so I am not in a position to say.’
    Adela roared with laughter and gave him a hefty slap on the shoulders that made his eyes water. ‘I heard your husband bought
     that new filly from Mayor Horwoode,’ she said to Edith conversationally. ‘She will be a good investment for him – she is a
     sweet-tempered beast.’
    ‘Speaking of sweet tempers,’ said Edith, ‘Matt was just saying that he felt the men at the University should see more of the
     town’s women.’
    ‘I was not,’ said Bartholomew, startled. ‘I—’
    ‘It is a good idea,’ continued Edith, cutting across him as though he had not
     spoken. ‘It would make them all less aggressive, and they would have a more rational view of life. Him included.’
    ‘Good breeder,’ said Adela.
    Bartholomew and Edith gazed at her uncomprehendingly.
    ‘The filly,’ said Adela. ‘She will be a good breeder. I can always tell, you know. It is all to do with the shape of the flanks.’
    ‘Will you and your sister Joan be going to watch the mystery plays outside St Mary’s Guildhall next week?’ asked Edith, giving
     Bartholomew a none too subtle dig in the ribs, prompting him, he presumed, to display some kind of interest in accompanying
     Joan.
    ‘Lord, no!’ said Adela, hands on hips. ‘I have a foal due soon – an unusual time of the year, but there it is. No predicting
     nature, eh, Matthew?’
    ‘But Joan …’ began Edith.
    ‘Joan is betrothed to Stephen Morice, so I imagine he will take her,’ said Adela carelessly.
     ‘He is a wealthy man and a burgess, too. It is a good match, and it is about time she stopped mourning for the husband she
     lost to the plague.’
    Edith shot Bartholomew a withering look that implied the impending marriage was his fault for not acting sooner.
    ‘You will miss her when she goes to live with Morice,’ said Bartholomew, who knew that Adela, Joan and their father Henry
     Tangmer all shared a house on Bridge Street.
    ‘More than you can possibly imagine,’ said Adela fervently. ‘My father has been urging us to marry for years, and now she
     is betrothed, I will have to bear the brunt of his complaints alone. But I suppose that is the way of families. Does Edith
     nag you about your reluctance to select a spouse, Matthew?’
    ‘She does,’ agreed Bartholomew.
    ‘I do not,’ said Edith, at the same time.
    Adela looked from one to the other in amusement.
     ‘Actually, I am pleased to have run into you, Matthew,’ she went on cheerfully. ‘Do you have any tried and tested remedies
     for ending unwanted pregnancies?’
    Once again, Bartholomew and Edith gazed at her speechlessly. Her voice had been loud, and one or two people had overheard.
     It was hardly a matter for bellowing across the Market Square, and abortion was not looked upon kindly by the authorities.
     If Bartholomew was caught dispensing that sort of treatment, losing his licence would be the least of his worries.
    ‘It is not for me,’ Adela bawled, giving her braying laugh when she saw what they were thinking. ‘One of my old nags is pregnant,
     and I do not think she will survivebearing another foal. I am fond of her, and do not want her to die.’
    ‘Sorry,’ said Bartholomew, keenly aware that people were still looking at them. ‘I have no idea what would end a pregnancy
     in a horse.’
    ‘Just tell me