[Roger the Chapman 06] - The Wicked Winter (27 page)

Audrey shivered suddenly. It was very cold in the chapel, and without thinking, she moved closer to me. I put my arm about her in a brotherly fashion.

'Did you notice Mistress Lynom's groom, the one they call Hamon, anywhere on the manor that day? He rode, and would, by my calculation, have arrived some while after noon, around the time that Sir Hugh was at the tower.' Audrey puckered her brow in an effort of concentration, but eventually shook her head.

'No,' she said with a regretful sigh, sorry to disappoint my expectations. 'Him, I did not see.'

I pressed her shoulder gently. 'No matter. There were those whom you did. Can you recall where other members of the household were throughout that day? In particular, during the morning.'

'Martha Grindcobb was in the kitchen,' she answered promptly. 'I was in and out of there three or four times before and after dinner and she was present each time, as were Ethelwynne and Edith and Jenny. Master Disney was away, collecting the master's rents, as he had been for the two days before that. Poor Master Empryngham, God rest his soul - ' Audrey crossed herself ' - was in his bedchamber, reading.

At least, he was when Martha sent me in to him with a cup of hot, spiced ale half an hour or so before dinner was ready.'
 

'And his wife?'

'No, she wasn't there.' Audrey frowned. 'I don't recollect clapping eyes on her all moming.'

'Where could she have been, then, do you think?' The thin shoulders rose and fell. 'The bakery, perhaps. Or the dakry or the laundry. Mistress Empryngham was always very busy about household concerns in Lady Cederwell's absence. She resented the fact that Mistress Talke wears the keys at her belt instead of herself. I once overheard Master Steward tell Martha Grindcobb that when my lady and her family first came here from Gloucestershire, Mistress Empryngham wanted Mistress Talke dismissed, because she felt that she should be in charge of the day-to-day running of the house.'

'So, Adela Empryngham was out of your sight all morning. Did she come in to dinner?'

'Oh, yes! She joined her husband in their room and stayed there for several hours. The weather was worsening by that lime.'

'I remember.' I shifted my position. The stone bench was becoming uncomfortable. But I had not yet finished my inquisition. 'Mistress Talke and Master Steward, do you recall what they were doing on Tuesday morning?' Audrey giggled. She was growing used to me and beginning to treat me as a friend.

'I saw Mistress Talke go into Tostig Steward's room on more than one occasion.' She lowered her voice to a confidential whisper, although there was no one to overhear us. 'He keeps a flask of brandy wine in the comer cupboard. I know, I've seen it. He likes a little sip now and then, and so does Mistress Phillipa.'

I could picture it, the two most important members of the domestic hierarchy, gossiping cosily together over a nip of something warming, discussing their latest petty triumph or grievance.

'But was the housekeeper in Tostig's room all morning?'

'No. She was around the house, too. She came into the kitchen about an hour after breakfast and said that if she was needed, she would be in the dairy. She was muffled up against the cold, and I saw her ten minutes later, from an upstairs window, crossing the outer courtyard.'

'Did you see her enter the dairy?'

'Yes. But after that, I turned away and went to cover my lady's bed. The next time I clapped eyes on Mistress Talke was when I saw her leaving Tostig's room again, some while after.'

'How long after?'

'I couldn't be certain. But I'd say she'd been with Master Steward for quite some time. She was a little tipsy. It surprised me, for I'd never known her have too much to drink before.' I made no reply to this, merely commenting, 'You haven't yet mentioned Maurice.'

'The young master!' She considered for a moment, her head tilted to one side. 'He broke his fast in the great hall with Sir Hugh the same as always. Ethelwynne, who waited on them, remarked that he was in a better mood than he'd been for the past two days, and Mistress Talke laughed and said we all knew why that was.'

'And why was it?'

'I suppose because Master Disney would be home that evening.' This time there was no trace of colour in her cheeks.

She was indeed growing used to my company.

'Do you think Maurice knew that his stepmother had sent for Brother Simeon?'

'I think everyone knew. My lady made no secret of it. "And when he arrives," I heard her tell the Master, "you will all get your just deserts. You will be called to account by the Church and very likely find yourself excommunicated."'
 

'And what did Sir Hugh reply?'

'He just laughed and said something like, "If adultery were punishable by excommunication, there'd hardly be a man left in England for the Pope to command. Certainly not the King and his court, by all that I hear."
 

My lady replied, "You should be afraid for your son, if not for yourself," and then she went away. I think she went out to the tower.'

Very possibly, I thought. It seemed to have been her constant place of refuge.

'Is your master fond of his son?' I asked.

My informant gave this her gravest consideration, not answering immediately. But at last, she said slowly, 'Yes. Yes, I think he is.' The admission seemed to surprise her and she frowned. 'They argue a lot, not over anything very serious. Silly little disagreements, like whether or not Master Maurice has borrowed his father's best boots without asking, or stayed in bed too long, or been rude to my lady. But... yes, I do believe that they are fond of each other.'
 

'If Sir Hugh had been offered a choice between the life of his son or that of his wife, which one of them, do you think, would he have favoured?'

'Oh, Master Maurice,' she replied, this time without any hesitation, and once again looked astonished at her own percipience.

I nodded. The picture Audrey painted was one of father and son at odds over something far deeper and more important than the petty quarrels which were their outward manifestation; something which neither would mention or acknowledge openly, but which remained an irreconcilable difference between them. In the end, however, the bond of blood was too strong to be broken. Sir Hugh's pride of family, and the honour of its good name, were all bound up in Maurice, but there was also an obstinate streak of affection in the older man for the child to whom he had given life. He would not allow danger to menace his son if he could help it; and if the removal of that threat marched hand-in-hand with his own more personal desires, who could say for certain what might have happened?

I realised that I must be looking grim, for Audrey was staring up at me, her little face furrowed with anxiety. I smiled at her, laying a hand on her arm.

'All's well,' I reassured her. 'Don't worry that you've said too much, or done harm to any you might wish to protect.

Now, can you tell me where Mistress Lynom is to be found? If she'll condescend to give me a hearing, there is something I want to ask her.'

Chapter Eighteen

Audrey looked at me with a mixture of respect and concern for my foolhardiness. An itinerant pedlar did not usually speak so lightly of questioning someone of Ursula Lynom's importance.

'She's probably still in the guest chamber. She was served her dinner there. Ethelwynne was grumbling about it, saying what a deal of extra work it throws upon her and the rest of them, especially with Father Godyer still abed. Mistress Empryngham's none too pleased about it either, for she can't use her own room while Master Gerard's body remains there, and has to sleep in the common dormitory with the rest of us women.'

'Then the guest chamber is where I shall look for Mistress Lynom,' I said. 'And if she's not to be found, I shall search elsewhere. She must surely still be within the manor pale, for I don't think her ready to leave just yet. The thaw isn't sufficiently advanced to make travelling anything but hazardous for the present. Tomorrow may well be a different story. Indeed, I think another twenty-four hours will see Sir Hugh left in peace to make arrangements to bury his dead and consider the life ahead of him, now that he's a widower once again.'

'But what of your suspicions concerning my lady?' Audrey Lambspringe asked reproachfully as I rose from the bench. 'Do you intend to quit Cederwell without finding her murderer?'

'I believe I already know who it is,' I replied. 'In my own mind I'm certain, but whether or not I can persuade others is somewhat doubtful.'

'Who is it?' she demanded. 'Only tell me his name and I will take a knife to him myself.'

I grinned at her. 'Well, well! What a bloodthirsty little creature lurks behind that timid face. All the better if you don't know, I fancy. You'd best leave matters in my hands, for as yet there are still one or two questions to be answered. Which is why I must speak to Mistress Lynom, and perhaps once again to Father Godyer.'

'And what will you do when you have the answers?' The soft lower lip stuck out belligerently. 'Will you then be able to convince the rest of us of what you say?'

'How can I tell? The outcome is in God's hands. It is for Him to decide what happens next. He has brought me here. He has laid the facts before me. When the time comes to confront my villain, I must be guided by His wisdom and hope that He will put it into my head what to do.' I stooped and kissed her cheek. 'Now, I must be on my way and seek out Mistress Lynom.'

I descended the stairs and crept as silently as I could past the half-closed kitchen door, where the clash of dishes and the hiss of steam told of work in progress; of dirty plates being washed and of the preparation of food for the evening meal, still several hours away. I had no wish to be confronted by an irate Martha Grindcobb demanding to know where I was bound or what I was doing.

Out of doors, the noonday sun revealed a rapidly changing landscape. The magical white world of faerie was slowly being transformed into mundane winter browns and greys.

Roof slates showed patchily beneath their frosty covering and distant trees thrust twisted, disfigured limbs through the concealing bandages of snow. The ground was still unyielding, but the steps leading to the covered gallery were wet and slippery with melting ice. I trod carefully. I could ill afford another accident.

The platform was also showing signs of the impending thaw, with little puddles of water collecting here and there in the shallow depressions of the boards. The doors to both the guest chamber and the women's dormitory were tightly shut against the cold, and no sound came from within either room.

I paused outside the first, hand raised to knock, listening intently, but all was as quiet as the grave. My heart beat faster, anticipating another tragedy, yet another death. Then someone coughed and I heard the faintest sound of movement, breathed freely again and tapped with my knuckles on the wood.

The rustling noises ceased abruptly and there was silence.

Then a woman's voice called, 'Come in.'

I opened the door and stood respectfully on the threshold.

Mistress Lynom looked astonished at the sight of me.

'Chapman? What are you doing here? What do you want?' There was an edge to her tone which suggested fear as well as annoyance.

'I've come to beg a moment of your time, Mistress Lynom. It won't take long, I promise, but there is a question to which you might know the answer.' I made no attempt to advance any further.

She took a step backwards, her eyes still wary. I guessed that despite the accusation I had overheard her make, she was not absolutely convinced of her lover's guilt in the matter of Lady Cederwell's death, nor did she believe that death to be either accident or suicide. I also concluded that if she were not a clever dissembler, she was innocent of contriving the murder herself, for she seemed ready to be suspicious of almost anyone on the manor.

'What question?' she asked, and flung out a hand. 'No! Remain where you are.'

'I had no intention of entering without your permission,' I answered placidly. 'But you have no reason to fear me, I do assure you. Lady Cederwell was dead by the time Brother Simeon and I reached here on Tuesday. We found her body together.'

Mistress Lynom drew in a deep breath and then released it on a long, drawn-out sigh.

'So you did. I recollect now.' She shivered. 'Very well! You may come in, but you are to leave the door ajar.' She still did not trust me completely.

I did as I was bidden. The room within was almost as bleak as the women's dormitory, but some attempt had been made to render it more habitable. The bed was covered by a rubbed and faded red velvet coverlet which matched the equally worn bed curtains, and another piece of the same material was thrown across the clothes chest, draping it to the floor. An ornately carved armchair, adorned with a pair of embroidered cushions, offered what little extra comfort there was apart from a tapestry, depicting the story of Tobias and the Angel, which hung against one wall. I wondered what Ursula Lynom thought of her accommodation, and whether or not she shared her lover's niggardly approach to the luxuries of life. Moreover, what would the redoubtable Dame Judith make of it all if she were forced to live at Cederwell with her daughter-in-law?