III



Overnight, the snows had finally come. As Matthew’s carriage made its way towards the gates of the Paige mansion he saw two servants removing the stiff body of a homeless man.



“The cold must have caught him last night,” one servant called.



“Yes, but I still don’t see how he got into the garden. It’s a bad omen.” The other made the sign against evil.



“He was probably just looking for somewhere warm to sleep.” The first servant dismissed the other’s superstition. “Come on, let’s get rid of him.”



The two servants stood aside as Matthew passed through the gates. Fascinated, he looked out of the window at the body. Noticing something, he called for the carriage to stop.



“He doesn’t have the pox, does he?” he asked.



“No. Why do you ask?”



“Look at those welts,” he said, pointing to the corpse’s neck. Two red marks stood out against the deathly white skin.



“Oh, them.” The servants looked relieved. “They’re just bite marks.”



“We think he must have had a run in with a stray dog. He has them all down his arm.”



Matthew nodded. “That’s good then.” The pox had come two years before, taking his older brother and two sisters. He wouldn’t lose anyone else he cared about this year.



“I hear you fulfilled my duties last night.” A pale Geoffrey sat by the fire in his chambers. A scarf was wrapped around his neck and he was shivering, despite the warmth in the room. “You must have been upset to miss the party.”



“No. I enjoyed myself. She’s a fascinating woman. How are you feeling?”



“Tired.” Geoffrey laughed weakly. “I feel like the essence has just been sucked out of me.”



“Do you know what’s wrong?”



“I don’t remember.” Geoffrey narrowed his eyes in thought. “There was something last night… I blacked out. Father blames the duke for some reason. He asked him to leave this morning.”



“Why does he blame the duke?” Matthew thought back to the previous night. Did the duke care about anything enough to deliberately harm his hosts? Then he recalled Lucinda. But why would he harm Geoffrey?



“I don’t know. He was angry though.”



There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” Geoffrey called. Earl Paige entered, followed by a priest wearing the black frock of an exorcist. The earl looked bleak. The exorcist evidently had come for a reason.



“Will you please give us some privacy,” the earl commanded, barely looking at Matthew.



“What’s wrong –” Matthew began to ask.



“I asked you to give us some privacy.” There was fear, not anger, in that abrupt statement. Matthew bowed and made his leave, wondering what could have happened that his friend needed an exorcist to be cured.