The Burgundian's tale

‘He must have had expectations,’ I admitted. ‘But there are others, as well, who had excellent reasons for killing Master Quantrell once his aunt made her intentions concerning him known. And very foolish intentions they were, if Your Highness will pardon my frankness.’

‘Oh, I know! I know! And so I told her.’ The Duchess sipped her wine. ‘Indeed, I think — I’m sure — she knows it herself now, in spite of all her excuses. But I should hesitate to condemn her folly too strongly.’ The blue eyes filled with tears. ‘Fulk was a most charming young man. I remember that as a child he was enchanting. He could wrap all my ladies around his little finger.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘Including me. And as he grew older, he was no less popular. To his aunt, who had not seen him for twelve years, he must have seemed hardly lower than the angels. And bringing, as he did, the news of his mother’s death, comforting his aunt as he must have done …’ The Duchess’s voice became suspended. ‘Need I say more?’ she added after a pause. ‘Judith admitted to me that she was in thrall to Fulk from the very first moment of seeing him.’

I thought this over for a minute or two. The Duke made no comment, but stared into the heart of the fire. A shower of sparks flew upwards like stars in the black night sky.

I addressed the Duchess. ‘Can Your Highness tell me what this Fulk Quantrell was really like?’

‘I’ve just told you! Weren’t you listening?’ Her indignant look appealed to her brother, who ignored it.

‘With respect, Your Highness,’ I said firmly, ‘you’ve told me what this young man was like only on the surface — about his fascination for women. But underneath, did he have a streak of cruelty? Of greed? Did he ingratiate himself with those who could advance his interests and abandon them when they could no longer be of use to him?’

‘No!’ The blue eyes flashed with anger. ‘He was like his mother, gentle and kind. He had a beautiful singing voice and was always near at hand whenever I needed him. How dare you suggest otherwise? You didn’t know him! Who has been poisoning your mind against Fulk? If this is your attitude, I would much rather you had nothing to do with solving his murder. Richard!’

The Duke stirred in his chair and slewed round to look at her.

‘My dearest sister, calm yourself. Roger is right to ask such questions. As you say, he knows nothing of Fulk Quantrell. Therefore, he has to find out. And how can he find out if he doesn’t ask the people who knew the lad best? Just answer him. Tell him the truth.’

I nodded agreement, smiling blandly; but, personally, I considered the Duchess had already revealed more than she would have wanted me to know. Her furious defence of the dead man suggested that he was far less perfect a character than she would have me believe. She, too, had been under his spell, and had deliberately ignored the flaws in his nature. And if what Lionel Broderer and his mother had said of Fulk were true, then he could have been a very unpleasant and ruthless young man. On the other hand, the Broderers were undoubtedly biased against the favourite.

The Duchess pouted, looking mutinous, and I could see what she had been like as a girl: pretty, used to getting her own way, petted by her older brothers and finding a close, kindred spirit in the brother next to her in age, George of Clarence; the pair of them both handsome, both conscious of their own importance and their place in the scheme of things. Both spoiled. But, also like the late duke, Margaret of York could just as suddenly dispel the impression of conceit and arrogance with a self-deprecatory laugh. Or, as now, with a smile.

‘Forgive me, Master Chapman! Of course you need to ask questions about Fulk’s true character. So, yes, he had faults, but then, who doesn’t? He would have been unbearable had he been too perfect. But in general he was a good boy, a loving son to his mother, kind and in tune with the world around him.’

I considered this. ‘You don’t think then that he could have brought any pressure to bear on his aunt to persuade her to alter her will in his favour?’

The Duchess grew indignant again, even more so than before. ‘What sort of pressure are you suggesting?’

‘Could he have played on her love for her sister? Mistress St Clair must have been deeply shocked and distressed by news of that sister’s death. She might even have felt guilty that she hadn’t accompanied you and Mistress Quantrell to Burgundy after her first husband’s death.’