Hawksmoor [antikvár]

It was only in later years when he looked back over the affair that Will Stott was able to pinpoint the moment when matters had begun to go wrong between the Stotts and the Hardcastles. Only then did he realise that it was the day young Richard Hardcastle became betrothed to Joanna Wade. It had been a fine September morning. Mist hung thickly over the Calder Valley when Will awoke, even earlier than usual because it was Monday: market day. As he gazed out of the window of the upper room which served both as bedchamber and loomchamber he could hear Janet clattering pots and pans in the kitchen below as she prepared his breakfast. The mist would soon lift, he reflected as he pulled on his breeches. By the time he rode up to Lindley moor edge it would have cleared to another fine, sunny day. Edging round the loom which dominated the room. Will descended the narrow staircase into the flagstoned kitchen below. Janet was stirring a cauldron of porridge over the fire and crooning to the baby who whimpered in his crib. 'Hush now, lovey, for thou shalt have thy breakfast in a minute when I've fed thy father. 'Tis Monday and we must get the Kersey to market.' Will smiled at her and stretched to ease his aching shoulders before seating himself at the table. It would be good to ride through the fresh moorland air today instead of crouching so many hours over the loom, watching the shuttle fly till one's head ached with dizziness and one's back and shoulders felt as though they could crack with pain. Still, he mused as he watched Janet spoon the steaming thick gruel into a bowl and place it before him, he worked no harder