‘They touch on the dispute and can be construed as evidence.’
‘Evidence of my love for him. I freely acknowledge that.’
‘But there are other things you did not freely acknowledge,’
said Gervase sharply. ‘You gave me the impression that the lord Nicholas promised you those holdings as a spontaneous gesture of affection.’
‘And so he did!’
‘Then why does one of your letters demand written proof that you will be his beneficiary? You threatened to withdraw your favours unless he gave you a more visible sign of commitment.
In other words,’ continued Gervase, watching her closely, ‘the letter which you produced before the tribunal was not the gift of a grateful man to a lover. It was a price exacted from him by you.’
‘No!’ she cried.
‘You sought to deceive us.’
‘That is not true.’
‘It was the lord Nicholas who wrote a letter under duress.’
Asa burst into tears and hurled the letters away. In spite of himself, Gervase felt sorry for her and wanted to console her in some way, but he did not dare to reach out to her. He waited until her sobbing eased.
‘Why did you write in your own language?’ he asked.
‘It came easier to me. I could express myself more clearly.’
‘Did the lord Nicholas understand it?’
‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘When he saw how well I could speak his tongue, he insisted on learning mine. We spent hours on end playing with words and phrases. He wanted to be close to me and that meant learning my language, difficult as it was for him. If that does not convince you that he loved me, then nothing will.’
‘The lord Nicholas loved you deeply, Asa. I am certain of it.’
‘Then why torment me like this?’
‘Because you exploited that love,’ said Gervase. ‘It is there in your letters. Every one of them contains some demand. He may not have paid for your favours with money but you still set a high price on them.’
‘I was worth it!’ she said with defiance.
Gervase was suddenly alarmed. He wondered what he was doing there and how he could best extricate himself. If his colleagues discovered where he had been, he was not sure that he could adequately explain himself. Asa sensed his confusion. She took a step closer to him.
‘I thought you were a friend,’ she said. ‘I hoped that you would help.’
‘I have helped you, Asa.’
‘How? By reading my letters?’
‘By bringing them to you in person instead of showing them to my colleagues. You spoke to us on oath in the shire hall. Those letters show that you committed perjury and make your claim worthless.’
‘No!’ she cried. ‘I earned that property.’
‘Not in any legal way.’
‘I meant more to the lord Nicholas than any woman alive.’
‘Then why did you have to wrest gifts from him?’
‘It was a game we played. He liked it that way.’
‘Don’t lie to me, Asa.’
‘He wanted me to have that property.’
‘After his death,’ he reminded her, ‘and that must have seemed a long way hence when you forced him to write that letter of intent. Or did you think that the lord Nicholas might not have long to live?’
Gervase himself was surprised by the force and directness of his question. It struck her like a whiplash and she flinched in pain. When she regained her composure, she looked at him with a hatred that was tempered with curiosity. Gervase could not tear his eyes away from hers. After a long pause, Asa reached out to take his hand in hers. He did not resist.
‘What really brought you to my house?’ she asked softly.
The passage of time did not still her anger. Hours after her steward had returned from the shire hall, Catherine was seething. She preserved a dignified calm in front of the rest of the household, but Tetbald was allowed to see her true feelings. When they were alone again in the parlour, she rounded on him with her eyes blazing.
‘You swore to me that the matter would be decided today,’ she said.
‘I had every reason to believe that it would.’
‘You failed me, Tetbald.’
‘No, my lady.’
‘All those promises, all those proud boasts.’
‘You will still inherit the entire estate,’ he assured her.
‘That is what you said when you rode off this morning.’
‘There were problems at the shire hall, my lady. A long delay.
Saewin would not tell me what caused it but two of the commissioners did not even turn up to examine me.’
‘Did you convince those who were there?’
‘Not completely,’ he confessed.
‘You had my husband’s will in your hands.’
‘Even that was not conclusive, my lady. They haggled interminably. They are not yet sure if the holdings in Upton Pyne are a legitimate part of the inheritance.’
‘They have to be,’ she asserted. ‘I want everything.’
‘You shall have it.’
‘Not if I have to rely on you, Tetbald. Perhaps I need another advocate.’
‘It is too late to decide that now,’ he said with a scowl. ‘Before you blame me for things which were no fault of mine, you might remember what I have done for you so far. I have given good service.’
‘True,’ she conceded.
‘The lord Nicholas employed me but my first loyalty was towards you.’
‘I have not forgotten that.’
‘Then do not treat me so harshly, my lady.’
‘You displease me.’
‘Their judgement has been postponed a little, that is all.’
‘If it is postponed,’ she said angrily, ‘it means that it is no longer certain to be in my favour. There are doubts in the commissioners’ minds. And you must have put them there, Tetbald.’ She walked away from him and was lost in her thoughts for some time. Tetbald smarted in silence. He had never seen her so angry before and it troubled him. When she swung back to him, her jaw was set. ‘I will go there myself next time.’
‘That would be folly.’
‘The folly lay in delegating it to you.’
‘I am used to such legal wrangling, my lady. You are not.’
‘My presence at the shire hall will be a weapon in itself.’
‘A weapon that can be turned against you,’ he argued. ‘It is only days since the funeral. His widow is expected to mourn in private, to be so overcome with grief that she will not stir from her chamber. You agreed that it would be unseemly for you to be involved directly in this dispute.’
‘Only because I trusted you to act on my behalf.’
‘And that is what I am doing, my lady.’
‘Not to my satisfaction.’
She walked to the window and gazed out at the surrounding land. Stung by her criticism, Tetbald was anxious to win back her favour. He moved across to stand directly behind her. Catherine’s ire seemed slowly to abate. He could see that she was more relaxed. When he ventured to put a hand on her hips, however, she tensed immediately.
‘I am sorry, my lady,’ he said, swiftly withdrawing his hand.
‘But I implore you to reconsider. Your appearance at the shire hall will contradict everything that I said about you. It could prove ruinous.’
‘I will take that chance.’
‘Would you throw it all away now when we have come so far?’
She turned to face him. ‘We?’ she said coldly.
‘You could not have done it without me.’
‘That may be so, Tetbald, but I rule in this house now. I make my own decisions and do not look to you for approval. I will go to the shire hall. If a man’s whore is allowed to assert her claim,’
she said bitterly, ‘then his wife ought at least to have the same entitlement.’
Before he could stop her, she swept out of the room and ascended the stairs. Tetbald heard the door of her bedchamber being shut and bolted.
Ralph Delchard was still locked in argument with the sheriff when the messenger brought the news. They abandoned their quarrel at once and followed the man-at-arms as he cantered through the streets towards the South Gate. Leaving the city, they followed the river for almost half a mile downstream until they came to a small crowd of people being held back from the bank by soldiers from the castle garrison. Ralph dropped down from the saddle and pushed his way past the onlookers. Baldwin lumbered after him.