The Burgundian's tale

Alcina shook her head. ‘There was no point. He was in one of his moods. He was punishing me because I had spoken up for Brandon when he and Fulk had come to blows that morning, during the maying. Fulk was very jealous of me,’ she added, her eyes filling with tears. (She had obviously worked things out to her satisfaction. In her own mind, her lover’s reputation had been salvaged.) ‘I knew he’d be off drinking for the rest of the evening, but I guessed he wouldn’t go to the Bull, as he usually did, in case he ran into Jocelyn and Brandon. So it was of no use looking for him there. He could have been in any of the inns or ale houses in the city.’

‘So what did you do?’

‘I came back to the Strand and went next door to see my uncle. I hadn’t visited him for quite some while.’ She grimaced. ‘We … We’re not all that fond of one another’s company.’

When I asked her why that was, she shook her head, but I suspected the reason to be that Martin Threadgold had made no push to protect her from her father when she was young.

‘How long did you stay at your uncle’s?’

‘For the rest of the evening, until it was time for bed.’

‘Even though you don’t like him?’ queried Bertram, spitting an apple pip into the rushes.

She flushed. ‘I didn’t say I don’t like him. “Not fond of his company” was the expression I used. We get on well enough provided we don’t see too much of one another.’

‘What time was it when you returned home?’ I asked.

‘Not late.’ Was the answer just a little too emphatic? ‘It was dusk, but not perfectly dark.’

‘Was anyone about?’

‘Paulina was in the kitchen. I looked round the door and said goodnight to her.’

‘Was she alone?’

‘Yes. At least, I didn’t notice anyone else. I expect Betsy and Nell had gone to bed. They knew my stepmother wouldn’t be needing them again because she had one of her headaches and had taken a poppy-juice potion. I don’t know where William was. Off in some alehouse, I expect. My stepfather was in his room, reading. I heard him coughing. I called out to him as I passed his door, but he didn’t answer. Once he gets absorbed in one of his folios, he’s oblivious to everything else.’

‘How did you get into the house?’

Alcina looked surprised. ‘From the street, of course. Paulina always waits up until the watch has cried twelve; then she goes round and bolts all the doors. It’s one of my stepmother’s few rules — but the one she’s strictest about — that everyone shall be home and in bed by midnight.’

‘And does Mistress Graygoss make sure that all of you are in before she locks up?’

Alcina looked startled. ‘I shouldn’t think so. She’d have to peep into all the bedchambers, wouldn’t she? And I hope she wouldn’t do that.’

‘Has anyone ever been locked out?’ I queried.

Alcina shook her head. ‘Not that I know of. Certainly not Josh or me. I told you: we respect my stepmother’s few rules because she’s generally very tolerant of the liberties we take.’

‘What about William Morgan?’

‘Oh, him!’ Alcina was dismissive. ‘I wouldn’t know. That man’s a law unto himself. But if he ever has spent a night out of doors, it’s never been mentioned.’

‘There’s the so-called secret stair,’ I reminded her. ‘The one that leads from Mistress St Clair’s bedchamber to the passageway outside the kitchen. Where, of course, there’s a door that opens into the garden.’

‘But to use that, even if it was left unbolted, you’d either have to climb the wall from the lane that runs between this property and my uncle’s … Mind you, it’s not impossible,’ she admitted after a moment’s hesitation. There are plenty of footholds on both sides. I’ve climbed it myself when I was a child and didn’t mind hoisting my skirt above my waist. But I wouldn’t attempt it now.’ She smiled primly and cast down her eyes. I had no faith in this sudden modesty.

‘Or?’ I prompted

‘Or you’d have to take a boat to the landing stage and walk up through the garden.’

‘No postern gate or door?’

‘No, nothing. I’ve told you.’

I switched to more personal matters. ‘You were in love with Fulk Quantrell. But — forgive me — before he arrived from Burgundy, I understand you were contemplating marriage with Brandon Jolliffe.’

‘I’m fond of Brandon, yes,’ she admitted. ‘I always have been; but I’ve never loved him the way I loved Fulk. I knew the very first moment I saw Fulk that he was the man I had dreamed about since I was a girl. He was so handsome!’

‘Looks aren’t everything,’ Bertram announced truculently, evidently deciding that it was time to speak up for the plainer members of our sex.

Alcina regarded him with scorn. ‘Fulk had a nature to match his looks,’ she declared. ‘He was kind, generous and loving. He fell in love with me, too, right from the start. He told me so.’