‘I am, and the child is Ranulf’s,’ Primevere replied. ‘And-’
‘Enough,’ Ranulf said forcefully. His arm around her waist, he looked around the group, fixing Josse, the Abbess and Gervase in turn with a direct stare. Then, bending his head to hers, briefly he touched her forehead with his lips. ‘Enough,’ he whispered to her.
She looked up at him. ‘I must finish,’ she said.
He looked at her for a long moment. Then, shoulders slumping, he whispered, ‘Very well.’
‘You killed Florian, didn’t you?’ Gervase appeared to be addressing both of them. ‘An unwanted husband was a hindrance at the best of times; even more so when the lady here was expecting an unwelcome child.’
Two heads turned sharply to face him and the protest ripped out of both Primevere and Ranulf: ‘No.’ Ranulf was about to continue but Primevere whispered, ‘Please?’ and, with an obvious effort, he stopped.
‘Not an unwelcome child,’ she said with dignity, ‘for, although conceived out of wedlock, this baby could not be more loved and wanted if he or she were the heir to the throne. And’ — now she faced Gervase again — ‘for all that it must seem to you that for us to kill him was the obvious and rational solution, I have to tell you that neither Ranulf nor I had anything to do with the death of Florian. Should you doubt us, we can provide someone who knew that we were together on the night he was killed.’
‘I’m sure you can,’ murmured Gervase.
Ranulf’s face darkened. ‘Have a care,’ he said. ‘You make a vicious implication, and it can and will be proved to you that you speculation and guesswork are entirely wide of the mark.’
The slight emphasis on speculation and guesswork were, Josse thought, a calculated insult; since guessing and speculating were in truth exactly what he and Gervase had done, under the circumstances it seemed justifiable.
Primevere had moved her position so that she now stood between Ranulf and Gervase. With dignity she said again, ‘Let me finish.’
And, after a tense moment, both men stepped back.
Josse, suppressing a flash of admiration, waited for her to complete her tale.
‘Florian’s death has set me free to marry the man I love and when Ranulf spoke just now of wanting us to sail over to France, he referred to his suggestion that the two of us go over to live on his estate near Le Mans for a time. We would have married quietly somewhere on the journey and at home Ranulf would have presented me as his new and pregnant bride. There we would have stayed until either those who killed Florian were caught and brought to justice or until the law gave up and stopped hunting for them.’ She shot a glance at Gervase. ‘But then we discovered who was behind the murder and it changed everything.’
‘Who is it?’ Gervase demanded. Then, furiously, as his anger finally boiled over: ‘I have had enough of rambling tales that skirt and obscure the truth; if you really do know who killed your husband, tell me now or I shall arrest the pair of you.’
As the echoes of his harsh voice died away, nobody in the room doubted that he meant it.
Primevere bowed her head meekly. ‘Very well,’ she said quietly. Then she raised her eyes to meet those of Gervase. ‘Florian’s habits were well known,’ she began, ‘and everyone both at the tomb and at Hadfeld was aware that he came home two or three times a week with the takings. Usually he had a guard with him and so the first task of the murderer was to arrange it so that one night, Florian rode alone. A guard was approached; it was Hal, the one with the scars and the broken nose. The murderer, judging correctly that Hal was a violent man, had found out that he was on the run for killing a man in a fight, and that useful little fact gave the murderer power over him. Not that Hal needed much persuasion; a large share of the proceeds of the robbery was sufficient incentive to enlist his help.’
‘But surely the killer wanted the money!’ Josse protested.
‘No, Josse,’ Primevere said with a sad smile, ‘for the person behind Florian’s death was already wealthy. It was not for personal gain that my husband was killed.’
The person was already wealthy.
Agonisingly divided loyalties.
The decision has to be hers.
He thought then that he knew who had killed Florian of Southfrith and, meeting the Abbess’s eyes, he saw in their expression that he was right.
‘I spoke just now of someone who was deeply discontented and who, instead of sitting back in happy appreciation of all that life had provided, instead was compelled ever to strive for more: a larger house, a purer-blooded horse, higher status, more reverent awe from everybody else. When their own options grew fewer and fewer, this person turned the force of their driven nature to another, whose steps they tried to force along a certain path almost from birth.’
The tears were falling silently down her face; Josse, unable to witness such pain any longer, said softly, ‘You speak of yourself, Primevere, and the person who has tried to put you in harness all your life is your mother.’
Primevere turned to him. ‘She can’t help it!’ she protested. ‘She acts out of love for me; although she never liked Florian she believed, as I did, that he was very rich and so she grudgingly accepted him. Then when she saw that I no longer loved him, she was delighted because it meant that, sooner or later, she would be able to persuade me to abandon him and our life of deepening poverty at Hadfeld, when she planned to take me back to France to marry a distant kinsman of hers who has high social standing and is wealthy beyond counting. She had, or so she told me, already written to the man to tell him about me.’ She dropped her head in shame, as if she too were in some way responsible for her mother’s actions. ‘Then, of course, Florian came up with the idea of pretending he had found Merlin’s Tomb and suddenly there was so much money coming in that I could have anything I wanted. I began to express doubts about leaving Florian and going to marry the new husband my mother had selected but not because, as she thought, I was tempted by Florian’s sudden wealth.’ She leant closer to Ranulf and he tightened his arm around her. ‘It was because, even though I was married to Florian, I could not bear to go away and leave the man I love.’
‘So your mother hired the guard Hal to kill Florian,’ Gervase said slowly. ‘She, then, is guilty of his murder.’
‘She did not actually kill him!’ Primevere cried. ‘She’s an old woman and she could not possibly have carried out such a brutal slaying!’
‘But she paid someone else to do it for her,’ Gervase said relentlessly. ‘She must have told Hal to say to Florian that the guards were too busy that night with the visitors for any of them to accompany him home with the money. Then, as Florian set off, Hal must have ridden hard and overtaken him, setting up his garrotte rope and then, presumably, spooking Florian’s horse so that he rode full tilt into it. No doubt he’d have had a weapon of some sort with which to finish the job if the fall didn’t kill Florian. Then he dumped the body, caught the horse and its precious bags of money and rode off into the night, finding some place to hide up until he could sneak over to Hadfeld and report back to Melusine.’
‘Yes,’ Primevere whispered. ‘Yes, that’s what happened.’ A sob broke out of her. ‘When Maman told me, she thought I’d be pleased.’
And that — the memory of that moment — was finally too much; Primevere turned her face into Ranulf’s chest and collapsed into his arms.
‘Do you want my help?’ Josse panted as he ran after Gervase.
‘No, Josse. I can have a band of men ready swiftly and there’s no need for you to come as well.’
They reached the stables and Gervase was untethering his horse. ‘Will you go after Melusine too?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Gervase said grimly.