‘Bailiff, my woman was back down at the stream. I wanted to make sure she was all right, for God’s sake!’
Lady Katharine saw Sir Baldwin gaze at Petronilla.
‘It’s true,’ she said. ‘I have been seeing Stephen for months, and I wanted to talk to him because I have discovered that I am with child. But then his passion overwhelmed me, and I…’
‘I think we understand that,’ Baldwin interrupted smoothly. ‘But how long was he gone, and how was he when he returned?’
‘He was gone long enough for me to stand and pull my clothes back,’ she asserted defiantly. ‘I heard the boy cry out when he was caught, and saw Stephen strike him, and I could hear him crying still when Stephen came back to me.’
Lady Katharine had to swallow to keep the sob from bursting out of her. The talk of her boy being beaten, his punishment being spoken of so casually, made her feel physically sick with longing to see him again, to have a last opportunity to cradle him in her arms and soothe his hurts.
‘And you both left together?’ Baldwin asked.
‘Yes,’ Petronilla said.
‘But why didn’t you search for your shoe?’ Simon asked.
‘I couldn’t find it,’ Stephen said. ‘I did go back briefly to seek it, but I was unsuccessful.’
‘So you walked back to the manor without a shoe?’
‘I thought it had to be a punishment from God for forgetting my vow of chastity,’ Stephen said stiffly. ‘I returned for a better look as soon as I had a chance, as you saw, but there was still no sign of it.’
Lady Katharine averted her face from the man. As he spoke, he had glanced towards her as if hoping to see some sign of forgiveness – but how could he expect her of all people to give him that comfort; it was an insult to her son’s memory. However, the bailiff’s next words caught her attention, and she slowly turned to face him.
‘But Anney’s son said…’ Simon stumbled, and then was silent as he saw Lady Katharine’s face.
She stared at the bailiff and the knight, who had caught his sleeve with an urgent warning, but too late. ‘Anney’s son…’ she repeated, and looked at her maid with horror.
Anney met her gaze with an almost amused sneer. She had thought Simon would accuse someone else – she’d hoped the bailiff would find the priest guilty – but now her last hope was gone and there was no further alternative. With a loud sniff, Anney stepped forward with a dignified mien. ‘What of it? Why shouldn’t a son protect his mother?’
‘What are you saying, Anney?’ asked Baldwin quietly.
Lady Katharine saw Anney smile. It looked like a mask of pure evil. Her face was as white as that of a witch or a ghost. The heart beat twice as fast in Lady Katharine’s breast as she heard her maid gleefully announce, ‘I’m saying that I killed Herbert! And I’d do it again.’
And then Lady Katharine screamed once, and fell senseless.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Instantly all was bustle as the women went to the lady’s side to try to assist, and the men stood fidgeting, wondering what should be done. Daniel pushed through them all and picked his mistress up, lifting her as easily as if she were a mere child herself. Saying nothing, he turned and walked to a large bench near the fire, laying her down gently.
‘Petronilla?’ Baldwin called. ‘Fetch feathers.’ The girl gave an understanding nod. Burning feathers beneath a fainting person’s nose would waken them. Only when she had gone did Baldwin look for Anney.
She stood at the back of those who crowded around, the smile still fixed to her face, as if she was pleased with the result of her words. Seeing him watching, she raised an eyebrow in polite enquiry, and gestured towards the door. Nodding, Baldwin followed her out and into the yard behind, Edgar at his side.
‘You know why, of course,’ she began. ‘It was because the fool allowed my son to drown.’
‘I had heard of that,’ he agreed. ‘But why should you demand his life as well? He was no more than a baby of three years old when that happened. Wasn’t it enough that you had seen one child killed unnecessarily, without demanding the death of another?’
‘If he had called out, done anything, my Tom would be alive now,’ she hissed. ‘You expect me to forget that? To be grateful that I have a position here in the manor, looking after her who gave birth to the boy who killed my son?’
‘This murder won’t bring your boy back.’
‘No, but the revenge warms me, Sir Knight! Haven’t you ever wanted to hurt someone, or even kill them, to avenge an awful wrong?’
He couldn’t meet her eyes; he was himself tainted with a murder he had committed as retribution against one of those who had destroyed his Order.
‘I see you have,’ she crowed. ‘Well, then, don’t condemn me, Sir Knight, for doing the same.’
‘But why wait so long? Why kill the child now, so soon after his father died?’
She faltered for a moment, but then the cold sparkle returned. ‘I had lost my husband when my boy died. Why should she be protected when I had lost everything, eh?’
‘You had not,’ he reminded her. ‘You may have lost a husband and a son, but you had Alan still. He was there to care for you, and yet you killed Lady Katharine’s child just when she was at her most defenceless. That was truly wicked.’
‘Perhaps – but he killed my Tom, and I could never forgive him that. Why should I? Herbert deserved his death.’
‘How can you suggest such a thing? He was a boy, not a murderer or felon, just five years old!’
‘Well, I see I shan’t convince you,’ she said with a shrug. ‘But remember, I was prepared to kill to avenge my boy, and I’d be happy to do it again.’
He nodded. There didn’t seem much more to say. He told Edgar to take Anney to the storeroom and to lock her inside. As an afterthought, he instructed Edgar to release Edmund, and to bring the farmer to the hall. Then, sighing, and with a sense of deep despondency, Baldwin made his way back indoors.
Edmund was sunk in a gloomy reverie when he heard the steps approach, and the door rattled to the sound of the bolts being shot back. The night had been hellish. He had only been given a jug of ale, no more, with his pottage, and he hadn’t slept well. Tired, fearful, his mind filled with visions of what might await him, he cringed as the door opened to show only Edgar and Anney.
‘Come on, Edmund – out. You’re free.’
He gaped at them while Anney gave him a mocking smile. ‘What, Ed, you want to stay here in my place?’
‘Your place?‘
Edgar sighed irritably. ‘This woman has confessed to killing Herbert. That means you are released, all right? If you wish, I can lock you back in here, but if I do, I won’t be in a hurry to let you out next time. Come on! Out!’‘
Edmund stumbled forward, but as he passed Anney, he stopped and stared. He couldn’t understand it. She hadn’t been there on the moor, she’d just set out on the road as he approached the manor.
‘Go on, fool!’ Anney said quietly. ‘Get out while you still can!’
He walked slowly and feebly through the sunlight. The yard was filled with noise. A cart had arrived and butts of fresh and salted fish were being unloaded and dropped onto the paved court before being rolled noisily to the storage sheds near his cell. Horses trotted past, their shoes ringing loudly on the stone, men marched with a regular snapping sound as their leather soles struck the ground, and all around people shouted, sang, or whistled as they got on with the day’s work.
It was disorientating, and suddenly the man couldn’t go any further. He stood in the midst of the bustle and stared about him with an almost panicked air.
Edgar saw his perplexity, and although he didn’t know what caused it, he knew a spell in a gaol could be disorientating. He took the farmer’s arm, and gently led him up to the hall. ‘Come along. We’ll get you a quart of strong ale before you go home. You need some form of compensation for your stay in the cell.’
Edmund obediently followed where Edgar took him, although at the door to the hall, he stopped, and stared at Edgar with a witless fear in his eyes.