“At least Guy will be an easier master.”
“At his first chance, Guy will have me outthe door and down the road with a curse and not much else to carrywith me. We don’t like each other, Guy and I.”
“He still holds the marchpane trick againstyou.”
Brief pleasure flickered on Jevan’sface. “There were walnut halves set in the center of eachpiece. Sir Clement all but foamed at the mouth when he sawthem and never forgave him. He’d boil into a temper everytime he saw Guy after that.”
As if with only mild, gossiping curiosity,Frevisse asked, “But why?”
Jevan’s face had fallen back into its settledexpression of endurance. “Walnuts made Sir Clement ill. Guy didn’t know that.”
“But after the marchpane, everyone inshouting distance of Sir Clement probably did,” Frevisse said,remembering his temper.
“Easily,” Jevan agreed grimly.
As if in simple commiseration, containing hersatisfaction at having at last another part of what she needed toknow, and wanting more, Frevisse said, “Sir Clementhad a finicking stomach, I’ve heard. The milk had to befresh. The goblet couldn’t be pewter. He didn’t likenuts. The cook was telling me. Was Sir Clement feigningor did any of that really make him ill?”
“Some things, yes, though not as many as hepretended. Walnuts did. Even touching them-” Jevan broke off with a shake of his head. “My lady, I disliketalking about him, and I have things that need to be done. Ifyou’ll excuse me.”
“My pardon. Certainly. I forgetmyself and chatter overmuch,” Frevisse said. “Thank you foryour kindness. And remember my cousin’s offer. Anythingyou may need while at Ewelme…”
Jevan had retreated while she was stilltalking. She trailed off to silence and stood gazing at theair in front of her, considering.
Chapter Seventeen
Overnight, hoarfrost had whitened the world -grass and trees and roofs prickled with it. Ice rimmed theblack moat waters. A haze blurred the nearer trees; therewere no distances. The cold that had crept around the windowedges yesterday now thrust deeply into the parlor, so that thecomfort of the fire was barely felt beyond an arm’s length from theflames.
Warm in his ample robes of fine wool, theoutermost one magnificently fur-lined, Beaufort had chosen to sitat the room’s far end, where he could watch everyone as theyentered, and when they had greeted him and respectfully kissed hisepiscopal ring and moved away, observe them while they moved andtalked among themselves.
Dame Frevisse had come to him last night, hadasked him to arrange this gathering under the guise that CountessAlice wished to ease the enforced stay of both Sir Clement’s familyand the three other guests waiting to testify to the crowner. Beaufort had suggested to Dame Frevisse then that she might preferto leave it now to the crowner’s hand. “Master Geoffrey iscompetent. He’ll make the best use of whatever you have, andthank you for it. You’ve done sufficiently, and I thank youfor it,” he had told her.
But she had bent her head respectfully butanswered, “By your leave, this is a thing I’d like to finish if Imay.”
“And you think you can by bringing them alltogether?”
“All together and unsuspecting. Yes, Ithink so.”
There had been various arguments he couldhave raised, or he could simply have refused, but her firmness ofpurpose and cleverness in the matter so far had both amused andinterested him. He wanted to know how much more she could do,and had seen to Countess Alice’s agreement without explaining toher why he asked the favor.
So they were all here now, with Dame Frevissesitting quietly to one side with the other nun, both of them drawninto the anonymity of their habits and veils. Beaufortcarefully cast them no more than a rare glance, but he judged thatDame Frevisse was watching the others around the room as carefullyas he was – and with more knowledge of them than he had, for shehad not fully explained either what she had learned with herquestioning or what she intended to do this morning. He hadbegun to find her intelligence and her strong, carefully controlledwill disconcerting, as he had always found Thomas’.
The two knights and lady, who were simplythere because they had sat too near Sir Clement at the feast, werein talk with Suffolk. Beaufort gave them scant attention; hehad gathered that neither they nor Suffolk had any part in DameFrevisse’s suspicions.
Countess Alice, her mourning black becomingto her fairness, was standing with Lady Anne, their two headsleaned close together, the girl listening and nodding wide-eyed towhat Countess Alice was saying. She was a pretty child, butBeaufort was not much moved by prettiness. It was a fleetingthing; hers would probably not outlast her youth, a fact that hadundoubtedly escaped the young fool who intended to marry her. He was standing beside her now, clearly proud that she was his.
The nephew who would have nothing out of SirClement’s death stood apart from everyone else, Beaufortnoted. He held a goblet of the warmed, spiced wine theservants were passing around and was watching one person and thenanother in the talk around him. It was a pity that he lookedso like his uncle. That alone would be enough to set peopleagainst him. Though he looked like his mother, too, come tothat. Beaufort had known her slightly. How a long-jawed womanwith the temper that matched her brother’s had ever managed tomarry for love was beyond Beaufort’s understanding, but shehad. And, in the long run, fairly well ruined her son’s lifeby doing so. The only thing young Dey had brought out of thewreck others had made of his life so far was his apparentdispassion.
Which was more than that usher fellow had,standing there by the door, bustling servants in and out. Beaufort wished it was possible to put something heavy on his headto hold him flat on his feet for a while. Why had Matildachosen such a creature?
At least she was not here. She showedno sign yet of rising from her bed, and no one had suggested thatshe should.
Sire Philip came in behind another servantbringing a tray of small tarts – if nothing else, they’d bewell-fed when this was done. Yesterday Dame Frevisse hadseemed sure Sire Philip was clear of the murder. She hadseemed less sure last evening, to Beaufort’s concealedannoyance. Sire Philip was too clever and too potentiallyuseful a man to lose if it could be helped.
Beaufort watched as he paused to speak toyoung Dey, too low to be heard, and then came on to make hisobeisance. Beaufort received it absently, noting over hisshoulder that whatever he had said to young Dey, it brought nochange to Dey’s face. The young man had not even nodded oranswered, only taken a tart from the servant waiting beside himwith the absent gesture of someone hoping to be left alone.
With Sire Philip’s coming, everyone expectedwas here. Beaufort looked toward Dame Frevisse. Sheraised her head to meet his gaze and with the slightest downwardtwitch of it told him she was ready for him to begin. Hopingshe indeed knew what she was about, Beaufort stood up.
Everyone’s attention came around to him,their conversations falling away to silence. He waited untilthe quiet was complete and even a little drawn-out, then said, “Youhave not wondered why you were all asked here, thinking it was onlyfor courtesy’s sake. But there was other purpose in it. I pray you, give heed to Dame Frevisse.”
He sat down again, and every head turnedtoward her. Rising in her turn, hands folded into hersleeves, her expression mild, she said in her clear, carrying voiceto all of them together, “His grace the cardinal bishop ofWinchester has believed from the very first that Sir Clement didnot die by God’s hand but was murdered.”
Various degrees of consternation and surpriseshowed on every face, but Dame Frevisse went steadily on and no onespoke out.
“He asked me to learn what I could of how hewas killed and by whom. In some ways, I’ve learned a greatdeal. In others, not enough. There were very manypeople who disliked Sir Clement, and some who hated him, whoprobably hate him even now. But of those, only a few hadchance to strike at him during the feast, and all of those who hadthat chance are here now.”