Eleanor raised one hand to her forehead. ‘Did I imply that? Yes, I suppose, to be truthful, I did.’
‘You thought Isolda was in love with someone other than her husband? What made you think so?’
My companion, however, seemed to have no clear idea why she had entertained such an idea and, as far as I could make out, it rested on nothing more than the belief, already expressed to me by my wife, that no man would claim to be a cuckold without good reason.
‘But who could your cousin’s lover possibly have been? Were there any men that you knew of with whom she was particularly friendly?’
It seemed there was no one to whom Eleanor could immediately put a name, and she was too anxious to return to the subject of Gideon and his nocturnal prowlings to give the idea any positive thought.
‘Are you serious in your suggestion, Master Chapman, that what I imagined was a. . a spirit haunting my room, was really Gideon himself, in the flesh?’
‘I’m convinced of it,’ I answered gently. ‘Mistress Bonifant herself told me that, over the past months, Gideon had risen from his bed on many occasions and gone wandering about the house at night. This sleeplessness was one of the reasons why she had begun to fear for his health. In reality, of course, he was not ill, merely lovesick. And he had seen a way to turn your confidence about the magical properties of the original pendant — the one you bought in Leadenhall market — to his advantage. He would enter your chamber which, I believe, is next to his and Mistress Bonifant’s, touch you lightly on your cheek or forehead in order to rouse you and, then, before you were properly awake, remain just long enough for you to recognise him before slipping from the room and hurrying back next door.’
‘But — but the visitations stopped after I threw the pendant away.’
‘Not for long, I should guess. Only until you received the new one for your birthday. Am I not right?’ And when she nodded, I continued, ‘According to Toby Maybury, it was Gideon who not only proposed a pendant as the family gift, but who also suggested the design for it. Did you know that?’ This time she shook her head, an expression of increasing horror on her face. I asked softly, ‘Were you fond of Gideon Bonifant?’
‘No!’ Eleanor shivered, wrapping her arms around her body for comfort. ‘No, I wasn’t. I didn’t dislike him, not for years, and he was always kind to me, although he could be sharp-tongued with other people. But I was never fond of him. There was always something about him that, deep down, I didn’t really care for. That’s why I was so distressed when. . when these nightly visitations started. I wouldn’t have wanted him for my husband even if he’d been free, but I thought that fate had. . had decreed that I should marry him one day.’ She gave a little laugh that faltered in the middle. ‘I was worried for Isolda’s life, not his. I was afraid, as you said just now, that she was the one who was going to die. Every time she left the house or complained of a headache I was worried. And then, after all, it was Gideon who died, who was poisoned.’
‘Tell me honestly,’ I said, ‘do you believe your cousin discovered that Gideon was in love with you and murdered him as a consequence?’
‘Yes, tell Master Chapman honestly, Nell, my dear, what you really think.’ Isolda Bonifant’s voice sounded behind us, although there was no rancour in her tone.
Neither of us had heard her enter the parlour and we both started with surprise. Eleanor gave a muffled cry, jumped up, pushing past her cousin, and fled from the room. Isolda made no attempt to detain her.
‘How long have you been there, Mistress?’ I asked, when I had recovered my breath.
‘I’ve been listening outside the door, which you failed to close properly, for quite some time,’ she admitted unashamedly. ‘Long enough to understand what Gideon was up to.’ She moved towards the fire, sitting down in her cousin’s vacated chair and idly playing with the needle that Eleanor had left jabbed into the canvas of the embroidery frame.
‘And did you ever suspect that your husband was in love with Mistress Babcary?’ I asked bluntly.
She made no answer for a moment or two, then suddenly shrugged and looked me full in the face.
‘I had my suspicions, but I didn’t want to believe it was true. He was twenty-two years older than she was, and I’d managed to convince myself that what he felt for her was no more than the affection of, say, an uncle for his niece.’ She laughed and looked away again. ‘What a self-deluding fool I was! But as for his attempt to persuade her into thinking of herself as his future wife in the manner you’ve just explained to Nell, of that I had no idea.’
‘Had you known, what would you have done?’ I asked.
She regarded me straitly. ‘I should have done my utmost to put a stop to such nonsense — but not by murdering Gideon.’
And suddenly, I found myself believing her without any of my former reservations. There was something about Isolda Bonifant that commanded my respect. She might be considered ugly by many men’s standards of beauty — although not by mine — but her mind was like her face, strong and honest. And there had been too many others, that night of Barbara Perle’s birthday feast, either around the table in the parlour or downstairs in the kitchen, who benefited from Gideon Bonifant’s death. For Miles Babcary it removed a son-in-law uninterested in the goldsmith’s trade, and who would quite possibly have sold the shop the moment it became the property of his wife. It rid Meg Spendlove of one whom she saw as a tyrannical master, and prised a thorn from Toby Maybury’s side. Eleanor Babcary was freed from a continuing nightmare, while her brother was no longer the target of Gideon’s false accusations. The Napiers ceased to suffer from the threat of exposure, he as a philandering husband, she as a cuckolded wife (surely something not to be borne by a woman as proud and as vain as Ginèvre). Most important of all, however, Barbara Perle’s future as the second Mistress Babcary still lay before her whenever she chose to accept Miles’s proposal of marriage. She would neither be forced to give up her pretensions to being his wife nor revealed as an adulteress. Of all of those around that supper table, she, perhaps, had more to gain than anyone else.
I suddenly realised that if I went to the Duke of Gloucester with as much knowledge as I now possessed, he could lay enough evidence before Mistress Shore to convince her that her kinswoman was far from being the only possible murderer of Gideon Bonifant, and demand his favour in return. On the other hand, if these facts became common property, they would not only throw suspicion on the innocent as well as the guilty, they would also destroy at least two lives, Miles Babcary’s and Barbara Perle’s. It was therefore my duty, if I could, to unmask the real murderer, even if it meant giving up a chance to return home with Adela the day after tomorrow.
‘You’re looking pensive, Master Chapman.’ Isolda’s voice broke through my thoughts, making me jump. ‘Have you come to the conclusion that I’m speaking the truth?’
‘I might have,’ I answered cautiously. I longed to tell her the whole story, but there were secrets that had to be preserved, at least until the truth was exposed. And perhaps — who could tell? — even after that revelation. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. ‘Mistress Bonifant,’ I asked abruptly, ‘why do you think no one has tried to kill me?’
‘Why has no one tried to kill you?’ she repeated blankly.
‘Yes. Oh, several times I’ve thought my life was in danger, but on each occasion so far, it seems to have been a false alarm, arising out of a natural expectation on my part that the murderer of Master Bonifant would try to prevent me discovering his — or her — identity. After all, a person who has killed already has less reason to fear killing again. However many your victims, you can only be hanged once.’