Authors: Margaret Frazer
‘Terrible enough that nobody will ever talk of it around Lady Anneys or her daughters if they’ve any kindness toward them at all.“
‘You saw his body?“ Frevisse prompted.
‘Ha. I was one of them that had to clean it and ready it for burial. Nobody was going to let Lady Anneys see it, let alone do any of that. His head was all smashed in. Someone took a rock to it and smashed it to bits.“
Because it was expected of her, Frevisse made a wordless sound of horror.
‘Aye, it was bad.“ Memory of it subdued even Helinor. She paused, staring down at the half-chopped onion on the cutting board. ”His head was broken so bad I don’t even know if all the pieces were there. We had to wrap it in waxed cloth to hold together what there was, then pad it around with more cloth to give it a head-shape before we trapped it in the shroud. So it would look right.“ She shook her head and started cutting again. ”It was bad, aye.“
‘There weren’t any other wounds on the body? Just his head all smashed?“
‘That’s all. He’d not been stabbed or beaten or anything else. Just his head smashed to bone-bits and bloody pulp. That’s why I say it was someone he’d wronged and they’d come back to do for him. It was revenge, not simple killing, if you see what I mean.“
Frevisse saw and went back to carefully slicing the carrot she had in hand before she said, “Well, Lady Anneys is better off, from all I hear.”
‘She is that. But Master Tom’s death is a grief she didn’t need. Nor none of us. Still, she’s rid of Sir Ralph and that’s more than a little to the good. I just hope she doesn’t make haste over marrying that Master Selenger.“
‘Is she likely to? Are people saying it’s likely?“
‘Well, he’s here as often as not, isn’t he? Started a few days after Sir Ralph was buried and it’s not for the sake of anyone else’s company he comes.“ Helinor smiled at her present onion, going at it less brutally with her knife. ”He’s a good-looking man and well-mannered. He could do with a wife and she could do worse. Besides, what’s she to do with herself after Lady Philippa marries Master Hugh? She’s too good a lady to think there can be two mistresses in one house or want to keep Master Hugh’s wife from her rights.“
So the provisions of Sir Ralph’s will concerning Lady Anneys’ remarrying were still as secret as Lady Anneys supposed, Frevisse thought, and there seemed to be no suspicions about Hugh marrying Philippa. Knowing she must go back to the garden soon but hoping for more, she said mildly, “Things will be different around here when all that has happened. Master Miles will be leaving soon, too, I gather.”
‘So we hear. Poor lad. It’s time he had a life of his own but he’s going to be lonely at it, I fear.“
‘He could well marry, now he had his own manor.“
‘Not from what I hear about that manor. Run-down and neglected. He’d need a wife who’d bring money with her, and what woman with money would marry someone with no more to offer than a ruined manor?“ Helinor had finished the last onion and began on the carrots, their pile already much lessened by Frevisse. ”But you have the right of it about things here. They’ll be different and God be praised for that. The sorry thing is that it was hardest on Master Miles, maybe, when that old devil Sir Ralph was alive, but now that everything’s changed, it’s still Master Miles who’s going to have it hardest. Those three boys were good at guarding each other’s backs. They worked together and now Master Hugh has the manor and will have a wife, while Master Miles must go off on his own to somewhere he’s never been before and make a whole new life for himself. That’s going to be hard for him. Hard, too, for Master Hugh,“ she added after a thoughtful moment. ”Being left alone when for so long there’s been the three of them.“
Frevisse thought the same, now she came to think of it at all. But she was also thinking of what else Helinor had said. Hugh, Miles, and Tom had worked together; but Hugh hadn’t known about Tom’s and Father Leonel’s twisting of the accounts. Had Miles? Who had been keeping secrets from whom? And what other secrets might there be?
And then there were the provisions against Lady Anneys remarrying. Both Hugh and Miles knew about those but neither her daughters nor the servants did. Come to that, Lady Anneys did not know whether Master Selenger did or not, and on that hung the question of whether or not Sir William was playing some sort of double game of marriage—his daughter’s and Lady Anneys‘—to his own advantage.
How many layers of secrets were here? Frevisse wondered. when she had first come to Woodrim, she had assumed that with a family torn by the grief of two deaths, there would be sorrow in plenty but a straightforward sorrow, straightly dealt with. Instead, she was finding almost nothing was straightforward here at all.
She worked awhile longer, leading Helinor to talk about Lucy, Ursula, and Lady Elyn but learning nothing she did not already know except that, “Oh, aye, Elyn was ready to be married, she was. Couldn’t wait to be Lady Elyn and away from here. Took to that marriage from the moment it was offered her and who could blame her?” Helinor said. “Anything to be away from here. Another one on the run from Sir Ralph.”
‘She wanted it more to be away from Sir Ralph than for love of Sir William, you mean?“
‘Very much more.“ About that Helinor had no doubts.
‘But now Sir Ralph is dead and no one was counting on that.“
‘She took her chance when it came,“ Helinor said, unconcerned. ”She made her bed and must go on lying in it, just like everyone else does.“
Chapter 17
As Frevisse passed through the garden, returning to the arbor, she saw over the garden’s back gate a manservant sitting on the grassy edge of the far side of the cart-track, holding the reins of two grazing horses. She knew neither the man nor the horses and for a moment did not know the girl, either, seated in the arbor between Lucy and Ursula, turning the pages of Mandeville’s
Travels,
then realized she was Sir William’s daughter, the talked-of Philippa, as the girl stood up and curtsied to her, saying, “My lady.”
Frevisse bent her head in return and they both sat, Frevisse beside Sister Johane on the bench facing her and taking the chance for a long look as Lucy went on saying, “… didn’t come with you only because it’s too hot? She’s feeling well, isn’t she? She’s not, um, not…”
‘Breeding?“ Ursula asked brightly, looking up from her sewing.
“Ursula,”
Lucy said, sending quick looks toward Sister Johane and Frevisse, probably to warn against talking about such things in front of nuns.
But Ursula had spent enough time among nuns not to think their living out of the world meant they were unworldly, and said, still brightly, “But that’s what we all want to know, isn’t it? Is Elyn going to have a baby and spoil Philippa’s chance to marry Hugh?”
‘That won’t spoil her chance to marry Hugh. She just won’t bring as much to the marriage,“ Lucy snapped.
‘How far have you gone with Mandeville?“ Philippa asked somewhat quickly, opening the book again. She was an even-featured girl, nothing particular about her and her hair simply brown, but she knew when and how to change the course of a conversation. ”I like the part about the dog-headed people the best. What about you, Lucy?“
‘There are too many dog-heads around here as it is,“ said Lucy. ”I like to hear about all the riches in Cathay. When is Master Selenger coming to visit Mother again?“
‘I don’t know,“ Philippa said with a lightness that failed to ring completely true to Frevisse. ”He probably wouldn’t be good company if he did. He had angry words with Father this morning.“
‘About what?“ Lucy asked eagerly.
“Lucy,”
Ursula said.
But Philippa answered, “I don’t know. I could hear that they were angry, but not about what.”
‘It’s because of Mother,“ said Lucy certainly. ”He’s pining and angry because she won’t say she’ll marry him.“
‘Lucy, why would that make my father angry at him.
Philippa said patiently. “Besides, Uncle John isn’t that unsensible, to expect Lady Anneys to be ready to marry again so soon.”
‘How is your father?“ Sister Johane asked, taking the talk a different way. Deliberately, Frevisse thought, but this time regretted it. She would have liked to hear more about Selenger. And if Philippa had come visiting to forget troubles at home, no one was helping her do it.
‘He’s still unsettled by… all of it,“ Philippa answered. ”And that Lady Anneys won’t have anything to do with him.“
‘It’s early days yet,“ Sister Johane said comfortingly. ”Lady Anneys only needs time until she can face him again.“
‘Besides,“ Lucy said cheerily, ”you and Hugh can’t be married for probably a year anyway. There’s plenty of time yet.“
‘Lucy, you don’t care who marries who,“ Ursula said impatiently, ”just so long as somebody is marrying somebody.“
At the opening of the arbor Miles said, “If Hugh is wise, he’ll find a husband for you, Lucy, before he does anything else and get you out of here.”
‘Miles!“ Ursula exclaimed happily while Lucy complained, ”I wish he would,“ and Miles laughed at her. He was still in the rough, dark green tunic, hosen, and soft-soled leather boots he wore to the forest and his hound was beside him.
‘Oh, Miles, not Bevis,“ Lucy protested. ”Not here.“
Ignoring her, he made a half-bow to Philippa and said, “I saw your horse and man and thought I’d find you here. You look well, my lady.”
As do you, good sir,“ she answered as lightly.
‘Where’s Lady Anneys?“ Gone to bed with a headache,” said Lucy, “and Hugh is gone off with Father Leonel, so you might as well join us. Here. But do leave Bevis there.” She started to shift sideways to make room between her and Philippa.
‘By your leave,“ Miles said, coming only a single pace into the arbor’s shade before he folded his legs and sank down cross-legged on the ground. ”Here will suit me better, where I can look on all your lovely faces.“ The hound Bevis lay down beside him with a heavy huff. ”How go things at home, Philippa?“
‘Well,“ she said, then amended, ”Well enough.“
‘What you mean is that Sir William is still glooming because Lady Anneys doesn’t want to talk him just now, and that your Uncle John is glooming because she doesn’t want him wooing her. And you’re glooming because you have to wait a year to marry Hugh?“ Just barely he turned the last into a question and put a stinging edge to it.
Lucy protested, “Oh, Miles, don’t be mean!”
But Philippa laughed and tossed his challenge back at him with, “And Elyn is glooming because everyone else is. I came here so I could gloom somewhere else for a change, yes.”
Miles laughed, too, and with mocking regret said, “It seems Father Leonel will have to give us a sermon on the virtue of patience some Sunday soon.”
‘And on how blessed it is to have a cheerful heart in the face of adversity,“ Philippa returned.
‘And about the sin of gloom,“ Miles said.
‘And the sin of sloth,“ Philippa retorted.
‘Sloth?“ Miles protested. ”Where does sloth come into it?“
‘Sloth in pursuing the virtue of patience. Sloth in avoiding the sin of gloom.“ Philippa paused in counting them on her fingers to say, ”Though I’ve never heard gloom listed among the sins. And
your
sloth in not giving up tormenting your sisters and me.“
Miles and Ursula laughed, while Lucy looked back and forth between him and Philippa and said, “Oh, you two. You’re so strange.”
‘Strange and stranger,“ Miles agreed. ”So, as long as we’re talking of gloom and marrying, who do you want to marry, Lucy?“
Frevisse immediately guessed it was a question to which they all knew the answer, because Ursula rolled her eyes upward and took up her sewing again and Philippa sat back with smothered laughter while Lucy unhesitatingly launched into telling how she wanted a husband who was wealthy, not too old, and certainly not ugly, and lived in a town because she was so tired of living in the country and never seeing anything, and for her wedding dress she wanted…
Frevisse watched the others listening to her and wondered what angry things Sir William and Master Selenger had been saying to each other. Philippa had seemed unsure her uncle’s anger this morning was from disappointment over Lady Anneys, but even if it had been, why would that bring him to angry words with Sir William? Because Sir William disapproved of his interest? Or because Lady Anneys was right—Sir William had set Master Selenger onto her for Sir William’s own ends? If that was it, then both Sir William’s and Master Selenger’s anger could have been not at each other but at Lady Anneys for forestalling them. Or Sir William might be angry at Master Selenger for, thus far, failing in his purpose. Or just possibly Master Selenger was unwilling to the work and angry at having to do it.
Or this morning might have had nothing to do with Lady Anneys at all.
And possibly Master Selenger was only what he outwardly seemed—a man honestly drawn to a woman.
But what was the likelihood that Sir William had indeed ordered Master Selenger at her, the way Lady Anneys feared? Uncomfortably, Frevisse had to admit that, from what she had been told, Lady Anneys was the one hindrance between him and the profitable control of Hugh’s, Lucy’s, and Ursula’s marriages. If he had ambitions that way, Lady Anneys was the obstacle he needed to remove.
Once Sir Ralph was out of the way.