‘No.“ Dame Frevisse made a small hand movement toward Dickon without taking her eyes from Mary and, as he stood up, said, ”He saw you with Father Edmund and so did other boys, more than once and in ways they couldn’t mistake.“
A distant part of Simon willed Mary to answer that- deny it, disprove it, show it wasn’t true, say something to change her back into a sister he need neither fear nor be ashamed of.
Instead she stood staring at Dickon, struck to silence, and into her frozen failure to say anything, Dame Frevisse said remorselessly, “It was the one thing needed to make sense of everything else. You used Tom Hulcote to rid you of Matthew, and meant to be rid of Tom after that, to leave you free to your other lover. To Father Edmund.”
‘You don’t believe her, do you?“ Mary whispered, turning a hunted look to Simon.
‘I believe Dickon.“ All feeling was dead in his voice. ”I believe Adam. I doubt there’s anyone who’ll believe you.“
Mary drew sharp breath through her teeth, flung back her head with an angry cry, and bent to pound her fists on the tabletop, crying out, her voice scaling up to break with cornered fury, “Damn Tom! Damn him! If he’d just left…”
‘Mary,“ Father Edmund said from the doorway.
Chapter 21
Fear and dismay twisted tightly together inside of Frevisse. Her carefully used cold anger’s purpose and her desperate hope had been to break past Mary’s lies before she need deal with Father Edmund. Because whatever Mary was, he was worse.
But Mary was already crying out to him, “They know!” And he was crossing the room, saying back to her, “They only know what you’ve been telling them,” his voice and look warning her to silence. “I haven’t told them aught!”
‘Then they know nothing.“ Circling the table to her, sure of himself, he was set on making sure of her.
‘We know you’re lovers,“ Frevisse said with the ice-edge scorn she had been using against Mary, not able to think of better weapon against him.
Father Edmund faltered slightly, lost a margin of his smile as he made a swift look around the table at the other men’s faces, but took Mary’s out-held hand anyway and said, “Are we?” Matching Frevisse’s scorn. Daring her to prove it.
Guessing desperately from that that he had heard nearly nothing before he came in, she jibed back, “You were seen. In the woods and other places. You’ve been careless with your lovemaking.”
She twisted the word to ugliness and his smile left him. He looked longer at the men around the table this time, taking in that they believed her, and with disregard for the shame he should have shown, he laid his hand over Mary’s clinging to his arm, scorning them all as he said, “So our sin is known and you’re offended. What pity you’re such cowards you couldn’t face us both with it.”
Mary started to say something. His hold on her tightened, silencing her as he readied to say more, showing his displeasure at them, but Frevisse, her anger rising past her cold control, said back at him, returning his disgust, “The worse pity is that your sins of the flesh are the least of what you’ve done.”
‘The least?“ Father Edmund put a quantity of scorn into that, too sure of himself to think he could lose ground. ”There’s more?“
‘I told you…“ Mary started at him.
‘The thing is not to tell them,“ Father Edmund snapped.
‘Her husband’s death for a beginning,“ Frevisse said.
Father Edmund dismissed that sharply. “He was killed miles from here by thieves.”
‘He was killed here by Tom Hulcote. And by his wife. Who’d plotted it with you beforehand.“
Mary tore a hand free of Father Edmund’s hold to grab the front of his surcoat and demand up at him, “You see?”
Ignoring her, his harsh gaze fixed at Frevisse, he said with contempt, “You’re being foolish, Dame.”
Ignoring his contempt, she answered, “And then the two of you killed Tom.”
‘We never…“ Mary started shrilly.
‘Be quiet!“ Father Edmund snapped. ”She’s nothing more than guessing.“
‘It’s gone past guessing,“ Frevisse thrust back. ”It must have been troublesome, Mary having a husband and two lovers all at once. Was that why you decided to be rid of two of them, Mary? Or was it Father Edmund who thought out how to be rid of them? Or the two of you together?“
Goaded, Mary cried out, suddenly fierce, “You’re guessing! You’re lying!”
With a certainty weighted by her anger, Frevisse said, “The ‘clever’ part was having Tom kill your husband for you first of all. You told him that if he did, he’d have you and the holding both, didn’t you? That’s how you brought him to it, isn’t it? But how did Matthew come to be both clubbed and stabbed? Tom on his own wouldn’t likely have needed to do both. One or the other, but not both. What happened? Did Tom balk at the last or did Matthew put up more fight than you thought he would and you had to club him down for Tom to stab?”
With a snarling ugliness, all beauty stripped from her, Mary let loose of Father Edmund to turn fully toward her, starting to answer that, but Father Edmund caught her by the shoulders, pulled her back against him, said over her head, fierce now in his turn, “Say nothing, Mary. Nun, on peril of your soul, be silent.”
‘I doubt it’s my soul is in peril,“ Frevisse answered and thrust on, ”Clever, too, to put Tom to all that trouble of making it seem Matthew wasn’t killed here at all. Having him ’leave‘ the day before your deliberate quarrel with Matthew, then steal and sell the horse and dump Matthew’s body well away, all so there’d be no suspicion on either of you. He did all that so he’d be able to have you openly, have Matthew’s place in every way, and all the time you meant that he’d have nothing.“
‘No! None of that happened! None of it!“ Mary cried.
His arms around her, holding her to him, Father Edmund said contemptuously, “Let her say what she wants. It’s the only thing will satisfy them. Hearing her lies. It makes no difference. There’s nothing proved, however much she says.”
Because that was too true, Frevisse said with contempt to match his own, as if she had proof in plenty, “And while Tom was seeing to Matthew, you went about to be rid of Master Naylor.”
Perryn and the other men-save Christopher, who didn’t know about it-roused to that, Perryn demanding, “How?”
‘He simply sent word to Lord Lovell that he thought he recognized Master Naylor as villein born,“ Frevisse said, as confidently as if now she were not making an outright, utter guess. ”He knew that on your own, Perryn, you’d never give the Woderove holding to Tom Hulcote. Therefore he saw to Master Naylor being out of the way, lest he persuade you otherwise.“
Father Edmund’s hesitation to deny that told Frevisse, to her relief, that she had guessed rightly. In all of this, his accusation to Lord Lovell against Master Naylor was the one thing of which there would be firm proof. If he denied it and somehow she had the proof in hand, then everything else he had denied would be suspect, too, and while the advantage was still hers, Frevisse said at him, “It’s the other reason you couldn’t wait over-long for Matthew’s body to be found. Tom had to be refused his bid for the holding before Master Naylor was released.”
‘And that’s why Tom was in Banbury at St. Swithin’s time!“ Bert exclaimed. ”To spread rumor of Matthew’s body so someone would find it!“
Walter, John and Hamon were at last looking more grim than confused, beginning to see how the pieces, proof or no, all held together damningly. Father Edmund, able to read the shift and trying to regain lost ground, said with new fierceness, “What are you gaining by these lies, Dame? Who set you to them?”
‘My brother!“ Mary cried. ”He hates me!“ Refusing to be turned, Frevisse said bitingly, at Mary again, ”That left you only Tom to be rid of. As planned, he was refused the holding and you set to urging him to leave, telling him there was nothing left for him here. But he wouldn’t go. He meant to stay. Is that why you killed him? Because he wouldn’t leave you? Because he loved you too much? Or did he find you and Father Edmund together in a way he couldn’t mistake and was so angry that all you could do was kill him to keep him quiet?“