‘I see, Sister. And his name?’
‘He says he’s Denys de Courtenay, Abbess. Means not a jot to me.’
Nor to me, Helewise thought. ‘Did he say what he wanted?’
‘He did not. A private matter, for your Abbot, he said. Course, I put him right on that, soon as you like!’
‘You’d better show him in, Sister Ursel.’
A stranger, Helewise thought as Sister Ursel went to fetch the visitor. Anybody familiar with the area would know that Hawkenlye Abbey was headed by an Abbess …
Sister Ursel opened the door, announced, ‘Denys de Courtenay,’ then, with a brief nod to the Abbess, departed.
The man stood just inside the door. Helewise looked at him, briefly taking in his details. Quite tall, with dark, shiny hair, worn a little longer than was the fashion. Dark eyes, with a particularly watchful look. Handsome face, wearing a wide smile. Clothes well-made, the colours chosen carefully to blend together pleasingly; dark red hose, tunic of a slightly lighter shade.
A man, Helewise thought, who was aware of his impact on others and who enhanced it to the utmost of his ability.
A man whom she mistrusted on sight.
‘Come in and be seated,’ she said, indicating the wooden stool she kept for guests.
‘So kind, Abbess — er — Helewise.’ The smile stretched still wider, revealing white, even teeth. ‘Good of you to see me. I am most grateful.’
‘Is there any reason why I shouldn’t?’ she asked, making herself return his smile.
He laughed. ‘No, no, of course not!’ He lowered himself on to the stool. ‘I meant only that you must be busy and I am intruding on your time.’
‘We are here to help those who ask it of us,’ she said.
‘I do ask your help,’ he said, his voice urgent suddenly. ‘For your prayers and your help. In a delicate matter, indeed, a family matter, one which has brought me here in wretched anxiety, eager to offer my support and my comfort, only-’ He smiled at her again. ‘But, no. I must begin at the beginning.’
‘It would be best,’ she agreed. I must keep an open mind! she told herself firmly. But, fighting as she was with the instinct that told her she was witnessing a very clever, calculated piece of play-acting, she knew it wasn’t going to be easy. ‘Pray, begin.’
He sat in silence for a moment, eyes raised towards the ceiling, hands pressed together, for all the world as if he sought heavenly guidance. Then, bringing his gaze to rest on Helewise, he said, ‘Abbess, I have a niece, by name Joanna. She is lost, and I fear for her very life.’ He leaned forward, as if increased closeness could convince her of his sincerity. ‘Both her parents are dead and her elder brother died in infancy, the year after she was born. She is alone, Abbess, and this is not a fit world for a girl alone!’
‘How old is she?’
He gave a short, indulgent laugh. ‘I say a girl, for indeed that is how I think of her, the dear child. But, let me see…’ He made a pretence of calculating, counting on his fingers. ‘She would be twenty-four years old now! In faith, I can scarce believe it!’ He laughed again. ‘How they do grow, Abbess!’
‘Quite,’ Helewise said. ‘How does she come to be lost, sir?’
‘Ah, Abbess, a terrible tale! She was wed, to an older man, yes, but a fine one. He cared for her, cherished her, showered gifts and trinkets on her, and made her lady of his estates. But tragedy struck, for he was out hunting when he was thrown from his horse and killed! Dead before they got him back to his own hall, God rest his soul.’
‘Amen,’ said the Abbess. ‘How shocking it must have been for your niece, to lose a husband in such circumstances. When did this happen?’
‘A much-loved husband,’ Denys said, ignoring her question. ‘Much loved, despite the difference in their ages.’ He seemed, Helewise noticed, strangely insistent on the point. ‘Yes, a shock indeed. And, Abbess, I hate to say this, but the horror of it unhinged my niece.’
‘Unhinged her?’
‘Yes.’ He gave a dramatic sigh. ‘Before his family could step in and take care of her, she had run away! Can you believe it, Abbess Helewise? She packed up a few belongings, crept out at dead of night and was gone! Lost!’
‘A worrying business,’ Helewise said. ‘And presumably you have reason to believe she may have come here? To Tonbridge, you think?’
He edged the stool even closer. ‘I believe it may be a possibility, yes. I — she-’ For the first time he hesitated. Then, as if he realised he had no option but to respond to what was, after all, a perfectly reasonable question, he confided, ‘She has a friend hereabouts. A woman. I’m not sure where she lives, but I do recall hearing Joanna speak of her.’
‘And you think this woman may be caring for your niece?’
‘It’s the only thing I can think of!’ Denys de Courtenay flung his hands up in an expansive gesture. ‘No family of her own, as I said, save myself! And, for reasons which I cannot even begin to guess, she wished to distance herself from her late husband’s kin.’
She also wished to distance herself from you, Helewise thought. Or so it appears. ‘She did not try to contact you?’ she asked.
‘She — ’ The smile spread out across the handsome face, white teeth gleaming in the smooth, olive skin. ‘Abbess, she had no way of knowing I was at present in England.’ Leaning confidingly towards her again, he whispered, ‘She knows me to be a King’s man.’ He nodded as if in confirmation of his words. ‘Joanna, I am certain, would have believed me to be in Outremer. With the King.’
He obviously expected her to be impressed, so she said, ‘Indeed! With King Richard!’
He looked smug. ‘I have enjoyed the great privilege of being permitted to be of use to His Majesty in the past, I have to own. He knows he can depend on me, when he needs a good man in a fight.’ He examined the long fingernails of one hand.
‘But not this particular fight,’ Helewise said softly. ‘This supreme fight in which King Richard is now engaged, to regain the Holy Places.’
Denys de Courtenay raised his head and glared at her. The unctuous charm had quite vanished, and, for a split second, she saw something feral, something infinitely sinister and cunning, in his dark eyes.
He recovered as swiftly. So swiftly that she could almost have thought she had been mistaken.
Almost.
‘Abbess, Abbess,’ he smiled, ‘what can you know of the world of fighting men?’ Quite a lot, she could have answered. ‘I see I must enlighten you!’
‘Please, don’t trouble yourself,’ she said quickly. ‘My ignorance must remain, for there are weightier matters for our attention. You were speaking of your niece’s friend, the woman with whom she may be lodging.’
‘Yes, yes, so I was.’
‘What is the woman’s name?’
Again, there was that strange reluctance to divulge details. Instead of answering Helewise’s question, Denys said, ‘I suppose it is too vain a hope to ask if she has been here? Joanna, that is?’
‘Here?’ After her initial surprise, suddenly Helewise was quite sure this was what de Courtenay had been leading up to. The simple question: have you seen her? Then why all the rigmarole? Why all the acting? ‘Has she been to the Abbey, do you mean? Or to the Holy Shrine down in the Vale?’
She thought it was the first he had heard of any Holy Shrine. ‘Oh — here, I meant. Seeking food or shelter, perhaps…?’
‘I recall nobody named Joanna among our recent visitors,’ Helewise said. ‘More importantly, for she could easily have used a different name, I recall no young noblewoman. Our visitors, sir, tend more usually to be the poor and the sick.’
‘Of course, of course,’ he said smoothly.
‘What name does she go by?’ Helewise asked. ‘I ask in order that I may enquire of my nuns, monks and lay brothers, those, that is, who have dealings with the outside worlds.’
He had got to his feet, and she thought for a moment he wasn’t going to answer. His expression was stern, distracted, almost …
Then, replacing the seriousness with another smile, he said, ‘Her name? Did I not tell you?’