Hugh took an impatient step forward. The heavyweights each grasped an arm. The mob, excited, urged the constable on, for the villain might try to escape and, with luck, force a fight. At a distance stood a group of his own cottagers, mouths agape at the sight of Lord Thatcham in custody.

Hugh took a deep breath and glowered at the constable. “Explain yourself, man.” He glared at the constable’s thugs. “There’s no need for your men to hold on to me.”

Stephens shook his head. “I’m afraid you have to come with me, my lord. There’s been a complaint laid against you.”

“What sort of a complaint, man, for God’s sake? I’ve more important things to worry about than arguments over rights of way or a neighbour’s sheep. I’ll deal with it later. You know where I live, after all.”

“I’m sorry, my lord,” murmured the constable. “It can’t wait. The charge against you is murder.”

Hugh, dislodging his captors with the impatience of a dog shaking off water after a swim, stopped dead. “Murder? What murder?”

“Well, my lord, I’m afraid it’s for the murder of your wife.”

Hugh, stock still, felt the blood drain from his face. “My wife? Lady Beatrice?”

“That’s right, my lord, so if you come along quietly, we’ll get things sorted out as quick as we can.”

The constable’s round, pleasant currant bun of a face bore the unmistakably resolute expression of a man who knows his duty and is determined to carry it out. His two helpers grinned broadly. This was the most exciting thing to have happened for years.

Hugh saw he would gain nothing from causing more excitement. He would prefer to keep any further spectacle to a less public arena. “Very well, Constable.” He spoke through a rigid jaw, fighting down panic at the waste of time. Philomena’s danger grew by the moment. Somehow, he must extricate himself from this tight spot as soon as possible.

He fought for calm. “We must clear this up at once. Shall we visit Lord Wrighton, my fellow magistrate, to discuss any evidence? I suspect there is none, for of course, I am quite innocent.”

Muldrow must have instigated the case simply to gain time for his purposes toward Philomena.

“Thank you, my lord. That will clear the matter up, I’m sure.” The constable shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. His uneasiness convinced Hugh that no trumped-up evidence existed. If the consequences of delay had not been so serious, Hugh would have felt sorry for the official, torn between the normal obsequious manner towards the gentry and his role as defender of the law. Stephens’ face was scarlet. He did not know whether to stand firm, with folded arms, or lean forward deferentially.