The Burgundian's tale

‘Those sorts of things can’t be kept secret for long,’ she answered evasively. I opened my mouth to argue the point, but she forestalled me. ‘Very well! If you insist on the truth, I would have preferred that Fulk had kept quiet about it until I had had time to speak to the others most nearly affected. But Fulk was young, excited by his good fortune, anxious to let everyone know how high he stood in my affections. And he felt that he needed to learn about the embroidery business if he was one day to own the workshop. It was only natural that he should call there from time to time in order to see for himself how things were done.’

‘And natural, surely, that your cousin should resent it.’

‘Edmund’s cousin,’ she corrected me, as though anxious to distance herself from this man she had been planning to wrong. ‘He’s not my kinsman. Fulk was.’ She was trying to justify the unjustifiable, as was only natural in someone with a conscience.

The door opened and the manservant, William, returned. ‘You wantin’ any more logs on that fire?’ he asked.

I froze. I knew that voice. I recognized the Welsh accent. It belonged to my assailant of the night before.

Seven

‘Who — who is that?’ I croaked.

Judith St Clair, who had dismissed the man with a wave of her hand, turned to stare in surprise.

‘I told you who he is just now. Don’t you listen? He’s William Morgan, who’s been with me since he was a child. His father was servant to my first husband.’

‘I … I didn’t realize he was Welsh,’ I said lamely.

The well-marked eyebrows shot up. ‘Why should you? And what does it matter if he is? Have you anything against the Welsh race, Master Chapman?’

‘N-No,’ I stuttered. ‘We do a great deal of trade with them in Bristol. All the same,’ I added, recovering my equanimity, ‘I should like to speak to this William Morgan later on, when I’ve spoken to the other members of your household.’

She inclined her head. Whatever else she might or might not have learned in the employ of Margaret of York, Judith had certainly learned how to behave regally. The Queen herself could not have been more condescending. But in spite of that, I found myself beginning to like her.

She started to rise. ‘I must go. I have a house to see to and a workshop to visit. Yesterday having been a holiday, I must assure myself that everything is running smoothly once again.’

I stretched out a hand to detain her and she sank back in her seat, frowning with annoyance.

‘What now?’ she demanded.

‘I must ask,’ I said, ‘about the night of the murder. ‘Where were you? How did you hear about it?’

She bit her lip, and I thought for a moment that she would refuse to answer. But Bertram, proving that he had more sense than I would have given him credit for, gave a little cough and shifted his stool forward until he was directly in Judith’s line of vision. At the sight of his royal livery, she changed her mind.

‘It was just over a fortnight ago,’ she began, then stopped, kneading her hands together in her lap, trying desperately to control her emotions. At last she went on, but with a slight tremor in her voice, ‘It was May Day, which, as it so happens, is also the Feast of Saint Sigismund of Burgundy. The young people — Alcina, Fulk, Jocelyn, Brandon Jolliffe — all went out maying before breakfast in the fields around Holborn, but when they returned, it was obvious that all wasn’t well between them. For a start, Fulk and Brandon bore all the marks of having been in a fight; and although they both claimed it had been a fight with some other youths who had been out maying, I didn’t believe them.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because of the way they looked and spoke — or, rather, didn’t speak — to one another. Besides, I questioned my stepson later, and Jocelyn confirmed that Fulk and Brandon had come to blows.’

‘What about? Did you enquire?’

Judith shook her head. ‘I didn’t need to. There had been bad blood not just between that pair, but between all three of them ever since Alcina fell in love with Fulk. I could hardly blame Brandon Jolliffe. There had been some talk of a betrothal with Alcina for months past. And as for Jocelyn, I’ve suspected for a while now that he was fond of her, and I knew my husband wouldn’t have put any rub in his way if it had turned out that she favoured him.’

I interrupted yet again. ‘Who would you have preferred your stepdaughter to marry?’

Judith shrugged. ‘I had no preference. Alcina’s happiness was, and still is, my only concern. But, of course, I wasn’t in the least surprised when she fell for Fulk. Both Brandon and Jocelyn paled into insignificance beside my nephew. Neither could match him for looks or character. He was the handsomest young man I have ever seen, and, in addition, witty, clever, humorous, kind. So very kind. Moreover, he sang like an angel and played the lute like a troubadour. What more could any woman ask?’

‘A veritable paragon,’ I murmured, and she gave me a sharp look, searching my face for any sign of scepticism.

‘You don’t believe me?’