‘Children,’ she whispered. ‘It might all have been different had I borne him the family he craved. I let him down. Nature can be harsh at times. I prayed for children but they never came.’ A harder note intruded. ‘But not even a family would have held him down. A character such as his does not change. Children would simply have imprisoned me here even more strictly and left him to roam at will.’
‘It is all behind you now, my lady.’
‘Yes, Tetbald.’
‘And the ordeal of the funeral is over.’
‘It was no ordeal,’ she said calmly. ‘I did my duty. They all saw that. The widow of Nicholas Picard did what was expected of her.
Nobody could look into my heart.’
He smiled furtively. ‘I did, my lady.’
‘You have been a rock, Tetbald.’
‘I have tried to be.’
‘Without you, I would not have borne up so well.’
‘It is a privilege to be of service,’ he said, moving familiarly across to take her hand. ‘There is nothing I would not do for you, my lady.’
‘We both know that.’
‘It fills me with joy to be able to plead on your behalf in the shire hall. Those holdings are yours. The other claims are worthless.’
‘The people who make them do not think so.’
‘They are wasting their time,’ he assured her, placing a faint kiss on her hand before releasing it. ‘Have faith in me and I will bring that property back to its rightful owner.’ Seeing her nod then appear to drift off into a reverie, he asked: ‘Would you prefer to be left alone, my lady?’
‘For a while.’
‘I will come back later.’
‘You will be welcome.’
‘Thank you.’
‘It is I who should be thanking you,’ she said with a weary smile. ‘You helped me through it. You were there for me.’ A recollection nudged her. ‘I saw you talking to the lord sheriff after the service.’
‘He had good news for us. Or what he assumed would be good news.’
‘What did he say?’
‘The men who killed your husband were captured. One died but the other is being held in the castle dungeon. He will doubtless hang for the crime. I almost pity the wretch.’
‘Did you say that to my lord sheriff?’
He gave a lazy smile. ‘That would have been foolhardy.’
When he reached the shire hall, Gervase was plunged into the swirling waters of debate. The abbot of Tavistock was a pugnacious advocate, stating his case in uncompromising terms and responding instantly to any challenge from the commissioners.
Gervase’s legal expertise was in demand at once and though it was tested by the combative prelate, it was not found wanting.
By the end of the session, the abbey’s claim had been thoroughly scrutinised, but no verdict could be reached until the other disputants had been examined. Abbot and prior departed, leaving the commissioners to review the events of the afternoon. When their discussion was over, Canon Hubert and Brother Simon went back to the sanctuary of the cathedral. Ralph’s impatience boiled over.
‘What happened at the funeral, Gervase?’ he said. ‘I have been dying to ask you but had to listen to that garrulous abbot instead.
Tell all.’
‘There is more to tell than I expected, Ralph.’
‘In what way?’
‘The lord sheriff employed me as an interpreter. He took me to the castle dungeons to talk with the man they arrested last night.’
‘What did you learn?’ asked Hervey de Marigny.
Gervase gave them a faithful account of all that had transpired at the cathedral and at the castle, omitting only the effect which Asa had had on him. Ralph was intrigued by the visit to the dungeon, but de Marigny was more diverted by the names of three mourners at the funeral.
‘The lady Loretta,’ he observed, ‘the widow of the deceased and the Saxon woman, Asa, were paying their respects to a man whose land they all covet. Three claimants at the same service. I wonder that a fourth did not find it in his heart to attend.’
‘A fourth?’ said Ralph.
‘Geoffrey, abbot of Tavistock.’
‘There was no love lost between him and Nicholas Picard.’
‘Perhaps not, Ralph, but a devout Christian like the abbot should surely not have missed the chance to attend. Apart from anything else, he would have rubbed shoulders with the sheriff and the bishop, two men whose friendship he must assiduously cultivate in this shire. For such a politic being, his absence was strange.’
‘Or tactful,’ said Ralph thoughtfully. ‘I have just recalled what I was told about Walter Baderon.’
‘Who?’
‘The captain of the guard at the North Gate on the night of the murder. According to the town reeve, this man saw the lord Nicholas quit the city. What interested me was the name of Walter Baderon’s master.’
‘The abbot of Tavistock?’ guessed de Marigny.
‘The same.’
‘It is probably just a coincidence,’ said Gervase. ‘You surely are not suggesting that the abbot was party to a murder?’
‘What I am suggesting,’ said Ralph, ‘is that one of us takes the trouble to question this Baderon when he comes on duty this evening.’
‘That will be my office,’ volunteered de Marigny.
‘Thank you, Hervey. Meanwhile, Gervase and I will go for a ride.’
Gervase was surprised. ‘Will we?’
‘Let us collect our horses from the castle.’
‘But where are we going?’
‘Where else?’ said Ralph. ‘To the scene of the crime.’
Loretta had been one of the last to leave the cathedral. Bishop Osbern’s eulogy brought her close to tears and she paid the tribute of a passing sigh to the widow of the deceased. Left alone in the cemetery with her servant, Eldred, she took a final look at the mound of fresh soil over the last resting place of Nicholas Picard before moving to a stone tomb in the shade of the cathedral.
Both her husband and her son were buried there, giving her a double reason to make frequent visits. Her mind went back to the time when Roger de Marmoutier was alive and the master of countless acres of Devon farmland. They had enjoyed great wealth in those days and the position which went with it. Tragedy then stalked the family. She lost a husband, a son and some of their most prized holdings. It was a story of continuous loss.
As she gazed at the tomb which contained her loved ones, she vowed that she would regain the forfeited property. It was hers now. All that she had to do was to persuade the commissioners of the strength of her claim and Loretta was confident of her ability to do just that. However, it was important to know something of the men she would face before she took her turn in front of them at the shire hall.
‘Eldred,’ she called, raising a hand to summon him to her side.
‘I will go home now. Call on the town reeve and entreat him to visit me this evening. I need Saewin’s advice.’
Eldred nodded obediently then went swiftly off on his errand.
After lingering for a few more minutes, Loretta ran a pensive hand along the stone tomb then turned away in distress. A solitary figure was now standing beside the grave of Nicholas Picard, weeping quietly to herself. When Loretta saw who the woman was, she seethed with anger. Chin held high and eyes staring straight ahead, she walked past the mourner with an air of contempt.
Asa did not even notice her.
Golde was surprised to be summoned and she walked to the apartment with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. The lady Albreda was an indifferent hostess who unsettled her guests.
When she tried to be more pleasant towards them, there was a sense of effort. Before she was conducted into her presence, Golde wondered whether she would meet rebuff or apology on the other side of the carved door.
‘You sent for me, my lady?’ she asked quietly.
‘Yes,’ murmured the other. ‘Please sit down.’
Albreda was reclining in a chair, her arms draped over the sides and her body slack. Her eyes were closed and her face screwed into a ball. Lowering herself on to a stool beside her, Golde studied her with alarm.