‘Meggot had enough to do trying to keep her chamber clean.’
‘Tell me about the household,’ he suggested. ‘How many are you?’
They looked at each other. Beyond the outer courtyard, beyond the walls of the hostel, Gil heard the burgh bellman ring his great brass bell and begin the description of Annie Gibb.
‘Well, there’s us,’ said Ursula, counting on her fingers, ‘and Faither, and our aunt, and Annie. And there was Mariota till she wedded Lockhart, and times there’s Henry and Austin-’
‘Who are they?’ Gil asked.
‘Cousins?’ said Nicholas.
‘No, they areny cousins,’ said Ursula. ‘Only by courtesy. They’re no blood kin o ours, Nick, they’re Ellen’s nephews by her first man’s sister Margaret Boyd, they’re Muirs, the both o them.’
Outside, the bellman had dealt with Annie Gibb and was now describing the unknown corpse, inviting any who might know her to visit the chapel of St Catherine’s hostel. A mistake, thought Gil. We’ll be overrun. Reckoning his mother’s Boyd kindred in his head, he located Margaret Boyd and her sons. They were perched on a very distant branch of the pedigree, but the connection with Dame Ellen could be useful.
‘They might as well be cousins, the way Ellen carries on,’ said Nicholas. ‘Making them ride into Glasgow wi us, keeping on at Annie how handsome they are,’ she added darkly, and hiccuped. Ursula bit back more giggles, and continued,
‘And there’s that doctor the now, and then there’s Meggot, and Gillian that waits on my aunt.’ She proceeded to list a good half-dozen indoor servants before she lost count, looking helplessly from her hands to Gil.
‘Most of those have stayed at home, I think,’ Gil said. Nicholas nodded. ‘Why did you come to Glasgow?’
‘Well, for the miracle,’ said Ursula reasonably. ‘It wouldny work tying her to the farm gatepost, after all.’
‘No, I meant you two in particular.’
They looked at each other again. Nicholas hiccuped, Ursula giggled.
‘To see the High Kirk?’ suggested Nicholas, trying to ignore her sister. ‘And all the vessels on the Clyde, and the market, and that. All the things the chapman tellt us, that was through Glenbuck last month.’
‘We’ve only seen St Mungo’s so far,’ said Ursula. ‘Might as well ha stayed at home.’
‘Ellen wouldny ha left us at home,’ said Nicholas sagely. ‘Where we go, she goes, and where she goes, we go, till we’re wedded. And Ellen had to come wi Annie,’ a shadow flickered across her face, ‘and Faither.’
‘Tell me about Annie,’ he suggested. ‘What like was she before she fell into her melancholy? Was she a good sister?’
‘Oh, aye,’ said Nicholas, and hiccuped. Ursula ducked her head, suppressing more giggles, and her sister went on, ‘She was a good laugh, she was aye fun to be company wi, she’d lend all her gowns and her jewels and borrow yours.’
Gil nodded; his sister Margaret had summed up this sharing as First up, best dressed.
‘Then she lost the bairn,’ said Ursula, sobering. ‘She was right melancholy after that.’
‘And then Arthur died,’ both sisters crossed themselves, ‘and she vowed she’d never cease mourning him, and all the rest of it.’
‘Sitting in the dark, aye at her prayers, no singing or joking or bonny clothes.’
‘She’d locked her jewels all in her kist,’ said Nicholas resentfully.
‘She must have loved him very deeply,’ said Gil.
‘Aye,’ said Ursula, ‘and the deil knows why, it was just Arthur.’ Her sister hiccuped explosively, and she gasped and turned her head away, biting back the giggles.
‘Has she any friends in Glasgow?’ Gil asked.
‘Just us,’ said Nicholas blankly. ‘Who would she have? She’s never been in Glasgow in her life afore this.’
‘So she’s adrift in a strange burgh,’ said Gil deliberately, ‘barefoot in her shift. What d’you suppose has come to her?’
‘She’ll be safe enough,’ said Ursula, on a sudden uncontrollable burst of giggles. ‘The way she stinks now, nobody’d go next or nigh her!’
Her sister drew breath looking shocked, hiccuped resoundingly, and collapsed in equal laughter. The door to the women’s lodging was flung wide, and Dame Ellen stalked out.
‘What a way to comport yoursels! Your sister missing, a dead woman in the chapel, your faither the way he is. Sit up straight and behave yoursels decent, or the Archbishop’s man will send in sic a report of you, you’ll never be wedded this side o Doomsday.’
Both sisters rose, scarlet with mingled laughter and embarrassment, and collected themselves enough to curtsy briefly to Gil before fleeing past their aunt and into the shadows. He could hear them, still laughing within the hall, and Dame Ellen turned a bony simper on him, the rather dreadful coquetry of her mouth by no means matched in her eyes.
‘What a pair of lassies!’ she was saying. ‘You’ll accept my apologies for their behaviour, I hope, maister.’
‘They’re very young,’ Gil observed. The simper vanished bleakly.
‘Aye, well, if they’re old enough to be wedded, they’re old enough to behave theirsels like modest women. What my kinsman at St Mungo’s would have to say about them I canny think. Have you learned aught yet? That doctor says my brother’s-’ She broke off, her expression softening as voices rose in the outer yard, Sir Simon’s among them. Feet sounded in the passageway, Socrates growled quietly, and two young men burst into the sunshine.
‘What’s this yon fellow says?’ demanded the first of her, as Gil checked his dog. ‘Annie vanished and some dead woman in her place? What have you been at here?’
‘Now, Henry, mind your tongue afore Blacader’s quaestor!’ chided Dame Ellen. ‘These are my nephews, maister, that rode into Glasgow wi us and are lodged wi their kinsman along Rottenrow. Henry and Austin Muir.’
Her gestures identified them: Henry fair and ostentatious, Austin tawny and diffident, both sturdy, handsome and expensively dressed in identical short velvet gowns which did not conceal Austin’s low-necked shirt of fine linen or his brother’s embroidered doublet of crimson silk, its high collar caked in silver braid. That must itch, Gil thought irrelevantly.
The brothers stared, taken aback, until Henry recalled his manners and made a swaggering bow, sweeping his jewelled bonnet above the cobbles. Gil returned the courtesy, saying,
‘Aye, Mistress Gibb is vanished away. Have you any knowledge of where she might have taken shelter or hid herself?’
‘Hid herself? Why’s she done that?’ said Austin, still staring.
‘We’d looked to find her here,’ said Henry. ‘Is there truly no trace o where she’s at?’
‘What brings you here to find her?’ Gil countered. ‘Had you business wi her?’
‘Business?’ repeated Austin. ‘Us? No, we-’
‘What else would bring them but civility? They’ve called in the hopes o finding her cured o her madness, a course,’ said Dame Ellen, smiling fondly. ‘And the wish to see their old aunt, I hope.’
‘But what’s happened?’ asked Henry, ignoring this. ‘Have you no set up a search? Why was there another woman in her place? Who is it, anyway?’
He was speaking to Dame Ellen, but Gil answered him:
‘The Provost’s men are searching for Mistress Gibb, and we’ve got both women being cried through the town. We’ll see if anyone kens the corp we have. Someone must ha missed her.’ He paused, considering the two. ‘Where were you last night? ‘
‘Where were we?’ Henry bristled. ‘Are you saying we had aught to do wi it?’
‘If I ken where you were and whether you saw anything useful,’ said Gil patiently, ‘it would help me trace where the dead woman came from. In fact, I’d be grateful if you’d take a look at her now.’
‘And then you can join the search for Annie, the both of you,’ announced their kinswoman. Henry gave her a sharp look, but said,