Bone of Contention (35 page)

She returned with the blanket, which she draped over his shoulders. “Did you dine, William? Shall I send out for a meal?”

“I dined, but not well.” He was grinning fit to split his head.

“Stephen kept me beside him and so busy in talk I hardly had time to fill my mouth and chew.”

Magdalene drew a sharp, hopeful breath. “He has quarreled with Waleran? Seen what he truly is?”

William grimaced. “No, not that, unfortunately, but I am certainly in favor today. Of course, I do not know how long it will last, but let me tell this story right side up.”

Nodding, Magdalene cleared away her sewing and pushed the slices of pasty and a jack of ale almost under William’s hand. Absently he took several swallows of the ale and lifted one of the pasty slices to his mouth.

“Thank God the first thing Niall did was tell me you were all reasonably sure Waleran had nothing to do with forcing that creature—”

“Aimery St. Cyr,” Magdalene offered.

William chewed and nodded. “St. Cyr on Loveday.” He laughed, seeing that Magdalene’s lips had parted to offer the name. “Oh, one does not forget Mistress Loveday. So, not being a fool, I left Niall and his lady and the documents in a corner and went to seek out Waleran. Lady Fortuna had her finger on my shoulder today, he was standing with the king.”

He chuckled deeply and Magdalene laughed with him. “What did you say to him?”

“I begged his pardon, humbly and with downcast eyes.”

“What?”

William’s full laugh bellowed out. “That was just what Waleran said.” He stopped laughing and a frown formed between his brows. “He looked quite alarmed, too, as if he did not want to offend me and feared one of his allies had done so without telling him. Hmmm. I must keep my eyes and ears more open than ever. But that has nothing to do with today. I answered him literally, begging his pardon again for thinking ill of him and believing he would set such a man as St. Cyr on a decent woman.”

“Did he understand you?”

“No. I will swear he did not. He did not recognize St. Cyr’s name nor Loveday’s neither. He looked at me as it I had grown a second head and asked why I should think he would meddle in the marriage of some yeoman woman. So then I told him what St. Cyr said to Loveday that first day.”

“Did you mention that greedy clerk?”

“No.” William laughed again, took another huge bite of pasty and washed it down with more ale. “First, how do I know I will not wish to squeeze that clerk for information some day in the future? I know who he is and I have a hook in him now. And second, since they spoke in private, I did not want Waleran to start wondering how St. Cyr had discovered who and where Loveday was. I quickly diverted him from that idea by apologizing again for not informing him about Loveday’s prior betrothal.”

“Did he not wonder why you
should
have informed him?” Magdalene sputtered. “I know it must be like a stroke of lightning to him that you should come and apologize for anything, but still… It is as if his thinking powers are missing or muddled.”

The look of glee faded somewhat from William’s face. “No, just so fixed on some purpose he has that he cannot spare a thought for anything else. That may mean grief in the future, but it was of immense benefit today. Anyway, by then I think he had remembered the clerk and Loveday and he swore that he had done nothing about her, she being the king’s ward.”

“So then I was able to turn to the king, who had been listening to every word, and confess, again with apologies, that Niall had mentioned the betrothal to me some four years ago but that I did not think it important. After all Loveday was not a great enough heiress to merit special attention and had been taken into the king’s ward, which would keep her safe. Niall was in no hurry to marry and was necessary to me just then, so I just put the matter aside and then, of course, forgot it completely.”

Snatching bites between words, William had finished the second slice of pasty and emptied the ale. Magdalene took the empty jack away and pushed another into its place.

“And then,” William continued, “Dame Fortune touched me again and made Stephen ask about Niall: why, if he already had the lady in hand, had he killed St. Cyr? So I was able to say he had not and could not have and summon him forward to present the priest’s and servants’ statement’s.”

“The king received them well? He had no doubts? No objections?”

“The king received them with relief and joy…” William’s voice faded, and he looked hard at Magdalene. “Why was he so glad? And Waleran, too? I swear he was delighted that no shadow with regard to the killing should fall upon me.” His lips thinned. “You know what that means? That means fighting.” He sat silent for a moment and Magdalene put her hand over his. He looked down at their hands. “Well, it is no surprise! It will come when it comes. Meanwhile, your task is over. It no longer matters who stepped on the louse, St. Cyr.”

“But it does, William,” Magdalene said. “The man who stabbed St. Cyr has killed again.”

“Killed again? Who?

“A rather worthless young man called Sir Jules of Osney. Sir Jules seems to have gone out to use the privy in The Broached Barrel just when the killer stuck the knife in St. Cyr’s back or a few minutes later. He claimed to have seen nothing, but Bell and I both had our doubts about the truth of that. We warned him to go home where he would be safe, but he did not, and he was found dead under a heap of straw in a pen in the stable yard with his head bashed in.”

“But that has nothing to do with me! I never heard of Sir Jules of Osney.”

Magdalene looked down at the table. “No, of course not. Niall was still at Noke the day Sir Jules was killed, and since Niall cannot have killed St. Cyr he cannot have had any reason to kill Sir Jules, nor could you have.”

“As long as that is understood.”

Magdalene nodded rather sadly. William did not care for simple justice or about stopping the murderer. His ends were satisfied and he wanted no further connection to the crime, not even that of solving it. Worse he might even tell her not to look further into St. Cyr’s and Sir Jules’s deaths. Magdalene sought a diversion.

“What of Loveday’s petition?” she asked. “Did she get to present it to the king?”

The frown that had been gathering on William’s brow dissipated and he began to laugh. “Yes she did. In fact I could not have stopped her if I wanted to. What she did was to come right up to the king in Niall’s shadow. She waited while he was presenting the evidence to clear himself, and then, the betrothal having been mentioned, simply stepped in front of him, weeping… Oh, just a little, and very prettily, and began to beg the king’s pardon for all the trouble she had caused.”

Magdalene nodded. “That is what she said she would do. A most redoubtable girl.”

William was still laughing and shaking his head. “She is a one, that one! I wish I could hire her to present cases for me. The king was wrapped and tied in half a candlemark. We all went together, Waleran included, so he could not say he meant her for another at some later time, into Stephen’s private closet so he could call a clerk, approve her appeal, and approve her marriage.” William laughed again. “I was sincerely glad she did not ask for the crown, he might have handed it to her.”

“Thank God that is finished.” Magdalene sighed. “Is Niall recalled to duty?”

“I am not so cruel,” William chortled. “I sent them both back to Noke to plan their wedding.” His grin widened. “Not that keeping him here would have benefited me in any way. Until he has her fast and has bedded her, I would not get any work out of him anyway.”

He looked at the table, empty except for his cloak and tunic and Magdalene’s sewing basket, and blinked his eyes. “I seem to have eaten your dinner.”

Now Magdalene laughed. “I am not so improvident. I ordered extra food because I thought Loveday might return here. And I think I have some sweetcakes to finish off the meal, if you would like them.”

“With wine,” William said. “I drank that damned ale because it was by my hand, but no more, at least not with sweetcakes.”

Magdalene went to fetch the cakes and wine, and when she had put them on the table said, “I hope you destroyed that betrothal agreement. It was false, of course, but if it came into the hands of someone who wished ill to Niall or Loveday it could be used to make trouble. Do you have any idea why Count Alain and Lord Hervey should have signed it?”

“They did not do so. I knew the hand was not Count Alain’s. I have seen his signature elsewhere.” William made a face, and Magdalene thought he must have witnessed that signature on some recent grant. “I thought a long time before I decided what to do, but finally I cut out Loveday’s name and all that pertained to her estate and brought the parchment to Count Alain.” He showed his teeth in what was not a smile. “It was a pleasure to see the look on his face, but he told me it was not Hervey’s signature either.” He sighed. “I had sort of hoped that Hervey had forged Alain’s signature. Still, he will be looking cross-eyed at his Household, wondering who took his name in vain.”

Magdalene could have told him that, but she said nothing. If Count Alain had not signed the forged betrothal, he would never have told Ferrau to retrieve it from Niall. In fact, he would not have known the document existed. So it must have been Ferrau himself who had the forgery made. Of course. He would not ask Count Alain to sign the betrothal of a common man-at-arms to a yeoman’s daughter. She wondered whom he had got to sign such august names.

So that was why St. Cyr was killed! No, that couldn’t be the cause. If Ferrau intended to kill St. Cyr over the betrothal, he would have killed him before the document was prepared. And if Count Alain knew nothing about the forged document, that eliminated the only other cause Ferrau had to be rid of St. Cyr—that Count Alain would dismiss him for associating with the creature.

Hardly realizing what she was doing, she leaned forward to refill William’s cup of wine, and was somewhat surprised to be seized and pulled from her seat into his lap and into a rather passionate kiss. William hardly ever kissed when having sex.

“Will you put a cap of pleasure on this singularly pleasant day?” he asked, when he released her lips. “The rain is stopping, but I will not be wanted until after Nones.” He chuckled. “And I am half undressed already.”

“Very gladly,” Magdalene agreed, although a slight pall of anxiety passed over her like a chill.

She had told Diccon to tell Bell she did not expect him to come, but he might do so. No matter. Florete would tell him that William was with her and Bell would go away. He would be angry. Then he was a fool!

Magdalene held out her hand and smiled. This was the second time William had
asked
if she would serve him. Usually he simply grabbed at her. He was pleased and relaxed. She had spoiled her own pleasure the last time they had coupled and was determined not to do it again. William was aware that the satisfaction she simulated was false coin and usually did not care, but he had been different since she had arrived in Oxford. If she possibly could, this time she would repay him in true gold.

Magdalene looked down at the heavy gold ring in her hand. It was worth a month’s earnings from the Old Priory Guesthouse, but she still rather wished William had not given it to her. It had been very good between them, a warm comfort that built slowly into passion and fulfillment. And they had been able to rest quietly in each other’s arms until the languor of love had passed. Even then, when he said he had to go, he had not offered an extra purse, but said only, “You are good to me and for me, Chick.”

Perhaps it was her own fault. She had trod amiss after he was dressed and just ready to leave the room, blinking less than usual and smiling back at her. She had run after him and caught at him. His eyes had widened and his face was soft and surprised. Magdalene bit her lip. How could she have been so stupid? She now realized he had been expecting her to ask him to stay or to say…she loved him. Which she did! But she had not said it.

She had said, “Good Lord, I almost forgot. Niall told you about the hiding place in Waleran’s attic, I am sure. I’ve sent for Raoul de Samur. Shall I tell him? Do you trust him enough to carry honestly what he hears to you?”

William had become instantly tense and alert, all softness gone from his expression, but not all pleasure. “Samur!” he exclaimed, grinning broadly. “Bless you, Chick! God in heaven, my wits have gone to seed. I had forgotten all about Samur. Yes, yes indeed, tell him. He is just the man for dirty work like that. As to bringing me the news honestly, I do not believe he knows what honest is. You know, he seems actually to take pleasure in telling me what he learns in Waleran’s Household. I pay him well, of course, and praise him…”

“He admires you, William,” Magdalene said, smiling.

“Admires me?”

Magdalene went up on tiptoe to kiss William of Ypres’s nose. “Yes, he does, I have heard it in the way he speaks about you. But even so, you had better consider carefully anything he tells you. The man is a snake. He might take a perverted pleasure in bringing down someone he admires.”

“Teaching your grandfather to suck eggs again?” he asked grinning. Then, acknowledging her warning, he said, “You wiggle a bit snakelike yourself, both mind and body,” and pulled off the ring and pressed it into her hand.

Magdalene sighed. Yes, it had been her own fault, but she had not hurt William. He had been doubly assured of her care and loyalty. It was only she, herself, who was hurt by being reminded that William thought her loyalty could only be bought or reinforced with gold. Then she tossed the ring up and down in her hand and grinned. She would be loyal to William if he never paid her another penny, but it was just as well he didn’t know that—and much more profitable.

She had barely had time to put the ring away before the door was scratched. She hurried away from the chest—there was no need for Florete or any other whore to know she had just put a treasure away—and when she reached the table called, “Come.”