In the little room, filled with pots, jars and barrels, he found the maid drawing a pot of beer for herself. As he entered, she turned quickly, then, seeing who it was, she gave him a quick smile, shooting a glance to the door behind him.
“I wanted to speak to you. What is your name?“
Her eyes dropped demurely. “Mary, sir.”
“You seem a very happy girl, Mary.”
“Thank you, sir. This is a happy household.”
“It is now, isn’t it?”
“Now, sir?”
“When I first came here, you were very different, you know.”
Her fingers began to play with a cord dangling from the neckline of her tunic. “I don’t understand, sir.”
“Oh, I think you do, Mary. I think you do.” He sat on a barrel. “Did he beat you often? I suppose that was not all he did, either, was it?”
“Beat me?” Her eyes seemed to grow large in her face as she stared at him, but not with confusion. There was complete understanding there.
“When I first saw you, you were a nervous, shy thing, scared and fretful. Not now, not since he died. Not since he stopped hitting you, is that it? And what about his wife? Did he beat her too? She wasn’t sad to see him dead either, was she?”
“No, I wasn’t.”
He spun around. There in the doorway was Angelina Trevellyn.
“You can go, Mary.” When the girl had scampered past, relieved to be free, the lady turned back on to the bailiff. “Well? Do you wish to interrogate me here, or shall we go back to the hall?” She picked up a jug, filled it with wine, and motioned with her hand towards the door.
Entering the room, the bailiff found Baldwin standing before the fire, his back to it, and staring at the door hopefully. Seeing Simon, his face fell a little, but then he grinned. At the sight of Mrs. Trevellyn behind, his face cleared and he smiled again.
“Please sit down, Baldwin,” she said, and pointed Simon to another chair before filling their pots with wine. “I have some things to tell you; things you may not like.”
The knight’s eyes moved over her, then flashed to Simon, black with suspicion. She carried on softly, sitting and resting her hands in her lap with an almost deliberate attempt at composure.
“Your friend is most astute, Baldwin. He has noticed the change in my house since your first visit. It is not surprising, really, but I should have admitted it to you before. It was not fair to let you think…” She paused for a moment, as if in sadness. Taking a deep breath, she carried on.
“Anyway, he is right to think that we are all much happier now. My husband, Baldwin, was a monster! He was a brute. He took me when I was young, and forced me to marry him. He trained the servants well, and beat them often when they displeased him, but he treated me the same! He thrashed me as if I was one of his hostlers! When he wished to, he ignored me and took the maids to his bed – and they dared not refuse him, just as I dared not complain.”
Baldwin stared at her in silence, but Simon was sure that there was pain in his eyes.
“So, my friend,” she continued, “when you found his body, I think none of us here were sad. Oh, no! How could we be?”
Leaning forward, the bailiff gazed at her intently, but she kept her eyes downcast, refusing to meet his. “Mrs. Trevellyn, why did you stay with him? You could have left him and gone home again.”
She looked up at that, with an unmistakable look of sadness. “Could I? How? My home is in Gascony, a little to the south of Bordeaux, so yes, I am English, the same as any other Gascon. And my father was always loyal to the English king, so I should be able to get home. But when your husband owns ships and knows all the people in the ports, how can you gain a passage? And even if there was someone to take me, how could I pay? My husband,” it sounded as if she wanted to spit at the word, “kept control of all our money. He even refused me permission to keep my jewels. Oh, no. There was no way I could leave!”
“Why did you agree to marry him in the first place?”
“I did not.” Her voice dropped and her head fell to her breast, as if slumping with exhaustion. “How could I marry a man like him? No! He captured my parents and me when we were travelling from Normandy to our home. He took all our cargo, everything, and then bargained with my father. He would have me, and let my father keep half of his goods. I was bartered like a slave! But that is how hostages are treated: whether the daughter of a merchant or the king of a province, all are treated the same.”
Nodding, Simon contemplated her. It was common enough for a man to be held until his ransom had been paid, and if her father saw a way of retrieving half of his cargo, paying the rest as a dowry, he might well consider it a good arrangement. “I understand, madam. Could you tell me what happened on the night your husband disappeared as well, please?”
“Simon, you don’t think she had anything to do with the killing of her own husband!”
Looking at his friend, the bailiff was saddened to see the anguish in his eyes. He gave Baldwin a grave shake of his head, and then faced the woman once more. “Madam?”
Her eyes rose to meet his again, and she spoke simply, expecting to be believed. “I was outside and walking. It appears that my husband came running inside. He had decided he wanted to speak with me, and he asked all the servants where I had gone. When they said they didn’t know, he beat two of them, including little Mary, my maid. Then he stormed out. I came back inside an hour or so later, and spent the evening in trying to calm the servants. When he didn’t appear, I thought little of it. He often went out to visit the inns of the area. Usually drinking made him violent towards me, but when he went to an inn he was often too drunk, when he finally got home, to be able to hurt me.”
“And the next morning?”
“I awoke as usual. He was not with me, but that was not unusual. I was surprised, though, when I found he was not asleep in the hall. When he was incapable of making his way to the solar, I usually found him there, spread out on a table or a bench. Still, it was no real surprise, not when I saw how much snow had fallen over the night. I would have sent out a man to ask at the village, but the drifts were too deep. I was surprised when you managed to get here.”
“Tell me, madam. When Agatha Kyteler died, why were you there that day? You are not with child, and you have not had any children, is that right?”
“Yes. We… We were not lucky with children.”
“So why were you seeing the midwife?”
Her face rose in a faintly haughty manner. “I cannot tell you that. I did not kill her. Or my husband!”
Simon held her gaze for a moment, his face serious. “Very well,” he said at last. “I will not force you. But I would like to know this. Did you see anyone that night? The night that your husband disappeared. Was there anyone here?”
She seemed to become even more pale as she stared at him, her eyes wide and seeming to hold a secret fear as her lips mouthed the word “No.”
It was then that Baldwin stood decisively and bowed to her. “Madam, I think we should leave you in peace now. I am sorry that we have caused you distress. Simon, come on. We must leave.”
The bailiff rose and walked to the door behind the impassive knight. At the screens he turned, partly to take his leave of the woman, perhaps also to apologise, but when he caught sight of her face, he turned and left.
Her features were contorted with loathing, and it was concentrated and focused on him.
They had ridden almost to the door of Greencliff’s house before Baldwin turned to face the bailiff. “Simon you can’t believe that she was involved. How could you think…? After all, Greencliffs confessed… And she’s far too beautiful to be a murderess. God! Why did you have to be so hard on the poor woman?”
“Baldwin, be still! Calm down.” Simon stared at his friend and the knight could see his misery. Baldwin was torn between his strong attraction to the woman and his friendship to the bailiff, but although his loyalty to Simon was intense, he was so moved by Angelina Trevellyn that he felt a sense of near disgust for Simon after the interrogation he had just witnessed. Even so, the signs of misery on his friend’s face compelled him to be silent and wait for the explanation.
“Look, we know she was there. She was with the witch on the day the poor woman was murdered, after the
