“By bringing up that property dispute he hadwith Father. He wouldn’t let it rest even this little whileof the funeral. William was furious over the rudeness, andbecause even though there’s no matter in it, the lawyers’ feeswould mount nonetheless, if it went that far.”
“I doubt there’s anyone who’s sorry he’sdead.”
“Certainly not William. Well, thecrowner will be here tomorrow, I hear, and that will be the end ofit. I trust Sir Clement’s family will leave with his bodyimmediately once they’re allowed to?”
“I understand so.”
“I’ve told Master Gallard to tell them we’llgive any help we can.”
“And please ask me for anything I can do, anytime.”
“Your prayers,” Alice said, smiling. “Surely your prayers are what I want most. And yourfriendship,” she added to her own evident surprise as much asFrevisse’s.
Frevisse smiled back at her, aware of growingaffection for this cousin she hardly knew. “You’ll have both,without fail. I think I should like to have your friendship,now that I’m not forever being annoyed by you,” she addedteasingly.
“Annoyed by me? How?” Alice demanded,amused as Frevisse had meant for her to be.
“Because you could sit for hours at yoursewing or whatever other task you mother gave you, and never makethe least bother about it. You always seemed very contentwith yourself, while I was ever wishing I were being or doingsomething else.”
“Except when you were reading,” Alice saidshrewdly.
“Except when I was reading,” Frevisse agreed,and they both laughed, were quickly shushed by Aunt Matilda’swomen, and ducked their heads to hide more laughter behind theirhands.
Then Alice confessed in a whisper, “I wasalways annoyed by you, too. You’d been everywhere and seeneverything, it seemed, and Father never seemed to mind how muchtime you spent among his books. It wasn’t until after youwere gone that I dared begin to press him as you did forbooks.”
“I never knew you were interested.”
“I wasn’t supposed to be. I was mymother’s daughter and there was the end of it.”
“But you didn’t let it be the end of it.”
“No,” Alice said firmly. “I didnot.”
Frevisse’s smile widened, “Oh, yes, I thinkwe can be very good friends indeed.”
Frevisse found Lady Anne alone in her room,except for her two maids, and like Alice, she was seated at thewindow, a book open on her lap, while her maids sorted throughbelongings in her traveling chest. The cold gray daylightgave her blond loveliness an ashen appearance, but even allowingfor that, she looked pale, delicately shadowed under her eyes as ifshe had not slept so well as could be wished.
Frevisse, as she approached her, wassurprised to see the book was another prayer book, and opened tothe Office of the Dead. Lady Anne, catching her glance andthe surprise in it, said, “I found myself wondering if there mightbe hope of Sir Clement’s salvation after all. I thought howunpleasant it would be to eventually arrive in Purgatory and findhim waiting for us.”
“I suspect that if Sir Clement manages to goso far as Purgatory, he’ll be far too busy with his own redemptionto trouble yours.”
Frevisse’s irony was lost on Lady Anne. She merely considered the thought for a moment, then answered, “Isuppose you're right.” She closed the book and tossed ittoward one of her maidservants. “Sit down, if youplease.”
Frevisse suspected that Lady Anne’s mannersdepended on her mood and possibly on the importance of whom she wastalking to, because no matter how young and vulnerable she looked,seated there pale in the winter light with the tender shadows underher eyes, she clearly had a strong core of self-will andself-interest that had small consideration for others beyond howthey affected her directly.
Frevisse sat, folded her hands into hersleeves, and said mildly, “I trust there is always hope of heavenfor all of us, even someone so outwardly without grace as SirClement.”
“It wasn’t merely outwardly. Hedelighted in the sorrows of others. Besides, God wouldn’thave struck him down like that if he weren’t deserving ofit.” Lady Anne said it flatly, with no particularvenom. Sir Clement being no longer a problem to her, shewould shortly have dismissed him completely from her life. But, probably in consideration of Frevisse, she added, “Though ofcourse we should hope the best for him. You’ve probably beenpraying for him. You’ve given your life over to such charityof spirit.”
“To the will of God, rather,” Frevissesaid.
Lady Anne drew her delicate brows together ina pretty frown. “It must be very strange to give yourself upso completely. To the will of your prioress, the will of yourabbott, the will of your bishop. I suppose you even have tolisten to the pope. You have no life of your own at all!”
“One grows use to it,” Frevisse said, amusedby the girl’s complete incomprehension. “Even to thepope. That is the core trouble with giving yourself up to thewill of God – it requires you also give yourself up to the will ofpeople who are not always godlike.”
“I suppose it makes you far more sure ofheaven,” Lady Anne said doubtfully. She obviously thought shewould find a better way to that goal than through so muchsacrifice. She was also growing a little bored with theconversation, fretting her white fingers at her skirts.
“Actually I’ve come from Countess Alice andher mother and husband, to bring you their deep sympathy for yourloss and assure you of any help that they can give during your stayhere.”
Lady Anne brightened. “How verykind. He’s important at court, isn’t he? The earl ofSuffolk? And much more charming than that dreadful Bishop ofWinchester.”
“I believe so, yes,” Frevisse said in generalanswer.
“But have you heard when the crowner issupposed to arrive? This waiting is terribly tedious.”
“Tomorrow for certain.”
“And then we can go home and be married andbe rid of everything that might ever remind us of SirClement! Won’t that be grand!”
“My lady?” Guy asked from the doorway.
The maidservants rose from their work tocurtsy to him. Lady Anne sprang to her feet and went to him,saying gladly, “Dame Frevisse came to offer us the family’scondolences on Sir Clement’s death, and she says the crowner willbe here certainly tomorrow. Then we’ll be able to gohome!”
“When he’s finished his questioning,”Frevisse reminded.
Lady Anne waved a dismissive hand. “There’s hardly anything to question. There’s Sir Clementdead and God did it. We all saw it.”
Frevisse had risen at Guy’s coming. Now, smiling in her best and most modest nun-wise, she satdown. Lady Anne cast her a look as if willing her tounderstand she could leave now and everyone would be pleased, butFrevisse feigned not to see it, and with no choice, they joinedher, Lady Anne’s displeasure somewhat showing. Frevissesmiled on them both and said, “My cousin the countess of Suffolkasked me to tell you that if there is aught we can do for you, youhave but to ask.”
As she expected, the mention of her cousinbrought Guy’s attention to her more respectfully. “Thank hergrace for her kindness. We’re doing very well. Everything considered,” he added, remembering there should be somegrief, if only for appearance’s sake. “Everything has beenseen to and is ready. As soon as the crowner givespermission, we’ll be able to leave.”
Judging by the warm glance that pass betweenhim and Lady Anne, he would have taken her hands then in the sharedpleasure of that coming freedom, if Frevisse had not beenthere.
She would have gladly left them to it, butshe still had questions she needed answered. “Was SirClement’s property all entailed, so it comes directly to you, orwill there be provisions in his will lessening theinheritance?”
“It’s all entailed,” Guy saidcheerfully. “He was too busy with his quarrels to spend timeextending his holdings. It all comes to me.”