Chains of Folly (34 page)

“And he left Baynard’s Castle, when?”

Lord Hugh answered readily, obviously glad to be done with a subject on which he might betray something important. He said, “He slept late, having come in late. I had been long abed when he arrived. I suppose he broke his fast when he woke. He then came to thank me for his lodging and to bid me farewell…hmmm. Near Tierce it must have been, but I cannot remember whether I had just heard the bells or heard them after he left. He did seem anxious to be gone, but I have no idea which way he went.”

That was the best he would do, Bell decided. Sir John had certainly implied that he wished to reach Mandeville as soon as possible. Lord Hugh did not seem to be concealing any guilty knowledge about Sir John’s departure, and Bell could not think of any advantage to him in lying for Sir John.

“If I might have your permission to ask of your men just what time Sir John arrived and whether he said any more to them than he did to you, m’lord?”

Lord Hugh waved him away. “By all means, but what difference would it make what he told them or in which direction he started? Just out of sight, he could have turned any other way, and my men would have no way of knowing. But ask if you will.”

“Thank you, m’lord,” Bell said, backed a few steps and then went down the length of the hall and down the stairs.

What Lord Hugh had said was perfectly true. Nonetheless Bell did ask questions. He got confirmation that Sir John had arrived after Matins that Thursday night and that he probably had been ashore for some hours. One of the men remembered that the horse Sir John rode did not seem to have come directly off a ship. Horses did not take well to travel by sea, and Sir John’s mount did not have that look of terror and exhaustion. The men who had seen him ride off agreed that he had set out toward the road to Oxford.

A wasted morning. Bell thought, as he remounted Monseigneur and led his troop along the Thames toward the bridge, but necessary. He had not learned anything he did not know, but sure as death would come to all men, had he
not
gone to Baynard’s Castle and asked his questions, there would have been some essential fact he would have missed.

He stopped briefly at the Old Priory Guesthouse, but Magdalene had just left. In fact, Diot was surprised he had not met her on the bridge; however, the bridge was always so crowded that it was easy to miss people, and everyone had pressed back, away from the center, to give his mounted troop room to pass.

As he mounted. Bell considered sending his men back to the bishop’s house and following Magdalene immediately. Then he imagined having to leave Monseigneur in the street where some fool would surely have approached the valuable horse and been maimed or killed. Monseigneur did not take kindly to unknown persons trying to touch him when he was saddled. Besides that, the effect of his entering Rhyton’s house in full armor would doubtless have set everyone on edge. Moreover, he did not really believe that Linley would attack Magdalene in the house of his betrothed.

The servants were not likely to be of any help, but surely Linley would not want them as witness. As long as he arrived before Magdalene left the house so that Linley could not follow her, she would be safe. Bell touched Monseigneur with his heel. It would do no harm to take the time to change his clothing and walk back to the Lime Street house.

By the time Magdalene had broken her fast and was ready to leave, the clouds had partially cleared and fitful sunshine was drying the damp from the streets. She paused at the gate, hearing Dulcie put the chain into place, and looked north toward the bridge but there was no sign of Bell, Shrugging mentally, she made sure her veil was firmly in place, and set out. She carried an empty basket for any small thing that caught her eye.

Her tale to Claresta would be that she had decided to do some shopping in the East Chepe and, since she was going to be so close to the Lime Street house, had brought the cuffs with the running hounds design that Claresta had admired. If Claresta purchased them, that would be fine. If Claresta did not want them, Magdalene would say she had lost nothing beyond a few extra steps and a little time.

The door of Rhyton’s house opened so promptly that Magdalene had not completely lowered her hand from knocking. And the expression of disappointment on Jean’s face was eloquent.

“Who were you expecting?” Magdalene asked, smiling.

At that moment a man’s voice, loud and angry, came from the open door into the common room.

“Where is he? You said he would be here today.”

Claresta’s response was also louder than she usually spoke, but annoyed not frightened. “I said he
probably
would be here today. I told you yesterday that Sir Linley had ridden to Godalming for his father to approve some changes my father desired in the marriage contract. Usually he does his business with his father when he arrives, spends the night, and then he rides back to London the next day. I assumed he would come this morning to speak to my father—but that would be at his place of business. Why did you not seek him there?”

“Because what I have to say to him needs privacy, not the bustle of a busy shop.”

Wide-eyed, while Claresta was replying, Magdalene had whispered “Who?” to Jean.

“He said his name was Sir John and that he was a friend of Sir Linley.” Jean’s very low voice trembled.

“Oh.” Magdalene bit her lip with chagrin. She could not go in and confront Sir John. Unfortunately he knew her all too well as the whoremistress of the Old Priory Guesthouse. “I would rather not interrupt,” she said to Jean. “Let me stand by the door to the kitchen.” And as she followed Jean to the back of the house, she remembered the expression on the servant’s face when he saw her at the front door, and asked softly, “But who did you expect when I knocked?”

“Master Spencer had some business with Mistress Claresta that he could not finish yesterday before he had to return to close the shop for Master Rhyton. He said he would come back this morning.” He hesitated as Sir John’s voice came to them saying he needed privacy and then whispered, “Mistress Magdalene what am I to do? He should not shout at Mistress Claresta, but…but she has not summoned me, and…”

Before Jean could finish his sentence or Magdalene reply to it, Claresta showed she needed no assistance. Clear and cold, her voice high with anger, she gave Sir John as good as he had tried to give her.

“If you do not moderate your tone to me, Sir John, you can have your privacy out in the street. I am not yet the common wife of a baron whom you can treat with contempt. I am an honorable burgher’s daughter, and I will not be shouted at in my own home.”

A low mumble so choked with rage that at first Magdalene could make out no words came in response. However, soon, loud and aggressive again Magdalene heard Sir John say that Linley had caused him great harm.

“That is between you and Sir Linley,” Claresta snapped, but she was no longer so angry and there was a decided note of interest in her voice, as she added, “If it is so very important, why do you not sit down and wait for him? I am sure he will be here sooner or later. Would you like some wine?”

Magdalene was sure that Claresta was about to ask in what way Linley had harmed Sir John, perhaps hoping that she would hear something so disreputable that she could still escape the unwanted marriage. But the door knocker sounded again. Jean hurried to answer it, and if Claresta spoke, the words were drowned in Jean’s eager recounting to Spencer of the unexpected guest Claresta had. The big journeyman hesitated, half turning to leave, but Jean, desperate for support in case Sir John turned nasty again, described the knight’s incivility.

“Shouted at Mistress Claresta!” Spencer growled. “We will see about that!” And he marched off into the common room.

“Oh, Spencer,” Claresta said, sounding less than overjoyed to see him. “Did you see Sir Linley at my father’s shop?”

“No, Mistress Claresta, but I did not come from the shop. I left soon after Prime to go, as you bade me, to Master Perekin FitzRevery about that heavy cloth you thought would do for the northern trade. I…ah…had to be careful what I said to him because—”

“You mean you don’t even know if Linley will come here at all?” Sir John interrupted furiously.

There was a very brief silence, as if Spencer started to reply, equally furiously, remembered himself and was now seeking for something to say. Claresta came to his support.

“Sir John was just about to tell me in what way Sir Linley had injured him,” she said.

And the knocker sounded again. Jean, who had remained near the door while Spencer marched into the common room, opened it. This time it was Linley.

“Oh, Sir Linley,” Jean said, somewhat more loudly than he usually spoke and quickly closed the door as if he wanted to prevent Linley’s escape. “Mistress Claresta is in the common room.”

It was just as well that he had closed the door, because Sir John erupted from the room, shouting, “Whoremongering bastard, where is my letter?”

Magdalene, watching from the shadows, thought that Sir Linley would have backed out of the door had it been open. But that, she judged, was only because of the violence in Sir John’s voice and gesture. Linley’s expression was totally dumbfound. To Magdalene it seemed plain enough that Linley had no idea what Sir John was raving about.

“Letter? What letter? Have you gone mad?”

“Your whore stole my letter and you killed her to get it. What have you done with it?”

Linley opened and closed his mouth rather like a fish gasping out of water, and Magdalene thought his face had gone pasty white but she could not be certain in the dim light with the door closed. But what he said was, “For God’s sake, Sir John. Watch what you say in the house of my betrothed. I have no idea what you are talking about. Go away now. I will meet you at the Cask of Wine—”

“Where all of Surrey’s men who are bound to support you will be? I want that letter. I want it
now!”

Sir John seized Linley by the front of his tunic and dragged him forward, which was fortunate as the knocker sounded yet again. Half stunned, Jean did what was strong habit for him and opened the door. Bell’s massive form filled the doorway. He stepped in, and without a word unfastened Sir John’s hand from Linley’s tunic and began to herd both men toward the common room.

Magdalene slipped out of the kitchen and followed, half concealed by Bell’s broad back. She lifted her veil to shield her face, but no one looked at her as she slid along the wall to stand in the shadow of some shelves holding handsome silver cups and plates.

Recovering somewhat from his shock, Linley turned on Sir John. “I do not know anything about any letter. I find it hard to believe that Nelda would have stolen a letter. She could not read. A letter would be of no value to her. How would she know it was important to anyone?”

“Because you would have told her!” Sir John bellowed. “Because you would have bidden her search each man you brought to her for Gloucester’s seal or Salisbury’s or his son’s or nephews’ and Winchester’s too.”

“You are mad!” Linley exclaimed, but faintly.

Magdalene thought he looked slightly frightened as if he might have mentioned—not a specific letter, but his interest in any information about Gloucester. From what he had said about Nelda in the past, Linley found her clever and an easy person to talk to.

In the shadow of the shelves, Magdalene nodded. It was not at all uncommon for a man to discuss what was uppermost in his thoughts in pillow talk. Linley might indeed have told Nelda how valuable it would be to him to lay hands on any proof of a connection between Gloucester and those the king wished to call enemies.

“Mad, am I?” Sir John snarled. “You tried to get the letter from her and she refused to give it to you. You tried to take it by force. She fought you and you threw her down the stair. You even tried to make me believe I killed her—”

“You drunken, drugged sot,” Linley shrieked, pale and sweating. “I was not even there that night. You cannot prove I was there. I was here, and I drank too much of Rhyton’s wine so that he bade me go, but I wanted more and went to the Cask of Wine. They will tell you there how I came in drunk and fell insensible—

“You were not there?” Sir John gasped, outraged. “Who woke me? Who told me that Nelda was dead? Who, in God’s name, convinced me to move her body to the bishop of Winchester’s house?”

“I did not,” Linley screamed. “No one saw me. You cannot prove I was there! It was you inside the bishop’s house.”

“Yes, you puling coward. You left all the labor to me, and you even deserted me, ran away and left me there.”

“I was never there!”

While the two went again and again through “You were,” “I wasn’t,” Magdalene went softly out and brought Jean to the entrance to the room. She had told him that he must speak the truth, that Mistress Claresta would be
very
pleased with him if he spoke the truth, and that Sir Bellamy would protect him from everyone else.

“Two witnesses are necessary,” Magdalene said, breaking into another exchange of accusation and denial. Linley and Sir John gaped at her, shocked into silence.

“Jean was in the house that night. It is his responsibility to lock the doors after guests, if there are any, are gone and the family is abed. Some time ago Mistress Claresta told me that she went to bed after her father and Sir Linley began to drink their wine and did not know when Sir Linley departed. However, Jean must know—”

“Jean will be out in the street naked after I am the master of this household if he knows too much,” Linley said threateningly.

“And he will be out in the street
immediately
if he does not tell the truth, whatever it is,” Claresta said from where she stood beside the silent but glowering Spencer. “And I will stand witness of your threat to him. So will Spencer.”

Magdalene patted Jean’s arm. “Do not be afraid. Just speak the truth. We will all stand witness to what you say.”

Not that Magdalene could stand witness to anything, since she was a whore and excommunicate and unable to swear an oath. However, Jean knew and trusted her and knew she would speak for him to Master Mainard, who was nearly his god, so it was the best thing to say to reassure him.