They returned to the hall in silence, with Christopher’s man going aside to the fire again once they were inside and Stephen waiting at the stairs for Frevisse and Juliana to go up ahead of him. Frevisse, going first, heard Juliana behind her say something quickly and low to Stephen, who only answered, “No,” and Juliana’s face was sullen and unbecoming when she joined Frevisse in the gallery. Stephen’s was no better and in continued silence Frevisse led them into Lady Agnes’s chamber and then stepped aside, staying beside the door as they crossed together toward Lady Agnes still seated at the window, Christopher standing beside her and Domina Elisabeth and Letice drawn away to the fireside.
Watching them come toward her, Lady Agnes gave a short, barking laugh. “Is it a falling out of lovers makes you both so grim? Or just fury at me for interrupting a dog and his bitch at play?”
‘No play, Grandmother,“ Stephen said back at her. ”Not anymore.“
‘Finding lust an insufficient bond, are you?“
‘Just because you’re past it, you old bitch—“ Juliana started.
But Stephen cut her off, saying at Christopher, “I’ve asked her about how the horsehairs might have come on Nichola’s glove and she won’t say. I haven’t told her what else you know.”
That was a neatly placed bluff but Juliana gave Christopher no time to play it, saying at Stephen scornfully, “Whatever he knows, he doesn’t know enough or he’d be arresting someone.”
‘You’re right. As always,“ Stephen snapped back. ”But I know enough. You made Nichola fall. You killed her.“
‘You fool.“ Juliana’s anger was as vicious as his own. ”She fell. There was nothing more to it than that!“
‘You made her fall, Juliana.“
‘It was her own stupid clumsiness made her fall. Or her horse’s. It doesn’t matter!“
‘Or a riding whip across her face! You tried that on me one time, remember? I said something you didn’t like and I barely got my hand up in time to keep from a cut across the eyes. Nichola wasn’t so quick.“
Juliana took a step to bring her close to him, said up at him, furious and unfearing, “Don’t be such a dolt. The little fool was hit by a branch.”
‘How?“ Stephen demanded, his fists clenched at his sides. ”She’d have to be riding close behind someone for a branch to hit back that hard into her face and she never rode that close, especially in rough riding like there was along that stream. What did you do, Juliana? When all the rest of us went charging up the far bank of the stream, you pulled back, knowing Nichola would be well behind us all? Did you try to shove her off her horse and she flung out her hand to save herself, grabbed at your horse’s mane, and that’s how its hairs were tangled in her glove? Was that the way of it?“
‘You idiot, Stephen!“ Juliana’s fury was now matching his, made harsher with scorn and disgust. ”Suppose I did take the chance there at the stream to say something to her. Suppose she laughed at me for it and said that whatever I did, whatever happened, you were hers and going to stay that way. Suppose she made me angry enough I didn’t care what I did? You’re guessing all of it!“
‘She made you so angry that you hit her across the face, didn’t you? And then what? While she was blind with pain, you swung your horse against hers and sent it over the bank? Was that the way of it?“
Juliana took a step back from him, suddenly cold in her rage. “You’re such a fool, Stephen!”
‘Why do it, Juliana?“ Stephen asked, the words raw with pain. ”She never did you any harm.“
‘She laughed at me. And she married you when you ought to be mine!“
‘Our marriage was her father’s doing and mine, not hers! It’s me you should have killed. Or him. Not her!“
With fury uppermost in him, Stephen grabbed Juliana by the arms. Nothing of the lover was left in either one of them, only the desire to hurt, and Christopher started forward to stop him but Juliana twisted loose and out of Stephen’s reach saying with a fury to match his, “You bastard!” She stopped and sudden, ugly delight sprang into her face and then her voice. “Yes! Bastard! You’re as much a bastard as your grandmother is a lying bitch, and I’ll tell the next escheator everything about it when he comes!”
Carried on her anger, she turned away in a swirl of cloak, past Frevisse and out the door before anyone could stop her. Frevisse, nearest, followed her, to call down to Christopher’s man to block her leaving if need be, but Juliana was brought short at the stairhead by Master Gruesby who was just handing Mistress Haselden up the last step onto the gallery, with no way past them and no chance for them to be out of Juliana’s way before Christopher had overtaken her with, “Wait on, my lady. There’s more to say,” and added to Stephen come close behind him, still angry and wanting his hands on Juliana, “Enough. The rest is mine to do,” stopping him a few yards away.
For one long moment they all stood staring one at another. Juliana, Stephen, Christopher. Master Gruesby still holding Mistress Haselden’s arm. Mistress Haselden still poised on the last step. Frevisse. Then Master Gruesby let go of Mistress Haselden and Christopher pointed first at Juliana and then aside, saying, “Step away, my lady,” and gave a look at Stephen and for good measure at Lady Agnes, Domina Elisabeth, and Letice just come out into the gallery from the solar, warning them all to stay where they were, while Frevisse quietly eased sidewards and back, putting herself in the way of the other door from the gallery to leave Juliana not even that retreat as, obeying Christopher sullenly, she moved away from the stairs.
Mistress Haselden, not understanding any of it, stared at them all with tear-reddened eyes, seeming even slighter a person than Frevisse remembered her from the day of Montfort’s funeral when at least there had been her husband to steady her. Here she was simply a worn wisp of a woman in a plain black mourning gown and veil who, openly desperate to be reassured, asked toward Lady Agnes, “What—?”
But Christopher stepped in front of her, interrupting her, albeit courteously, not to fright her more, “My lady, thank you for coming. Master Gruesby?”
That was an asking as to why she was here and Master Gruesby hastily but to Christopher rather than at the floor said, “Master Haselden was not at home. I asked Mistress Haselden about the dagger and then thought that you should hear her.”
‘Mistress Haselden,“ Christopher said, still carefully courteous, ”my clerk asked you about a certain kind of dagger?“
Another woman might have questioned why but Mistress Haselden looked to be too dulled with grief to care. “My husband had one, I know. I tried to find it just now, when your clerk asked about it, but I couldn’t. Then your clerk said I should talk to you.”
‘Your husband wears this dagger?“
‘Not for a long while. He said it was overlarge and awkward for everyday wearing. He put it away in his clothes chest a long time ago.“
‘He might have sold it since then and not told you. Or given it to one of your sons,“ Christopher suggested.
Mistress Haselden refused that with a small shaking of her head. “I see it every time I turn out that chest for the spring and autumn cleaning. It’s always—”
‘Allison.“
She stopped short and turned her head along with everyone else toward Master Haselden at the foot of the stairs. Then she moved aside as he came up them, two at a time, to pause at their top to take in everyone with a quick look and a slight, puzzled frown before laying a hand on his wife’s shoulder and saying, pleasantly enough though a little short-winded, “There now. I came home just after you’d gone. They said you were away with the crowner’s clerk to see Lady Agnes. What’s toward?”
‘She was just telling us,“ Christopher said, ”that a dagger of yours has gone missing.“
‘A dagger of mine?“ Master Haselden laid his free hand to the pommel of the dagger at his belt. ”I don’t think so.“
‘Your ballock dagger,“ Mistress Haselden said. ”It’s gone from the chest.“
‘If it is, I don’t know ab
out it,“ Master Haselden said, still caught too off guard for even indignation yet.
‘I had the thought,“ said Christopher, ”that you might have put it elsewhere and not told her.“
Sure of her housekeeping if nothing else, Mistress Haselden answered before her husband could, “He hasn’t. He’d have said. It was there when I put his best doublet away after Christmas but when I looked just now, it’s not.”
‘Then someone has taken it,“ Juliana cut in suddenly. ”And who more likely than Stephen?“ She pointed an accusing finger at him. ”He killed Montfort. He probably killed Nichola, too. He was always saying to me how much he hated her.“
‘You lying bitch!“ Stephen cried out. ”I never did!“
He started for her but Juliana moved quickly behind Christopher who put a hand out in warning to Stephen, stopping him as Juliana went on, vicious with triumph, “He hated her! He even deliberately kept her barren all the time they were married so he could be rid of her someday. He never meant to get her with child, no matter what you wanted, Philip!”
Master Haselden swung angrily around on Stephen. “What? You kept her from breeding on purpose?”
Angry past caring and attacked too many ways at once, Stephen threw back, “For her sake, yes. She was too young—”
‘Like hell she was!“ Master Haselden boiled into higher anger. ”She could have had one baby by now and another on the way if you’d done what you were supposed to!“
‘Please, Philip,“ Mistress Haselden protested. ”She was too young. Don’t—“
‘You knew,“ Master Haselden exclaimed, disbelieving and angry together. ”You knew!“ And slapped her across the face with full-armed strength, spinning her sideways against the gallery’s rail.
‘She didn’t know!“ Stephen made to go for Master Haselden but Christopher grabbed hold of his arm and held him where he was, shouting at both of them, ”Stop it!“
They both did, probably because Christopher’s man was coming at a run for the stairs, evening the odds, Stephen pulling back from Christopher, Master Haselden holding where he was, choleric and breathing heavily.
‘Further off,“ Christopher said, pointing for Stephen to draw back a few more steps and gesturing for his man to come up and keep watch on Master Haselden. Mistress Haselden, crying almost soundlessly, was still clinging to the railing, leaning over it, sobbing. Only when Lady Agnes came to her, laid a hand on her back, did she straighten and turn, burying her sobs against Lady Agnes’s shoulder as Lady Agnes put her arms around her.
Juliana, still venomous and not interested in any of that, said, “It was Stephen killed Master Montfort. It had to be.”
‘Give it over, Juliana,“ Stephen said, bitter and sounding suddenly weary. ”I was here when it was done.“
‘Your grandmother is a liar and so are all her servants,“ Juliana snapped.
‘Juliana,“ Frevisse said quietly.
As if startled to remember she was there, Juliana spun around to face her, demanding harshly, “What?”
Still quietly but the words weighted, Frevisse asked, “Why did you call Master Haselden ‘Philip’?”
The question caught Juliana unready. “What? It’s…”
She groped for an answer but Master Haselden, not so quick to see the trap, said impatiently, “It’s my name.”
‘I know it’s your name,“ Frevisse said. ”But I’d never presume to call you by it, and I’ve met you rather more times than I thought she’s ever done. Why did you call him Philip, Juliana?“
‘For shit’s sake, Juliana, it doesn’t matter,“ Master Haselden said, more impatiently. ”They know you’re a whore. What does it matter if you were mine for a while? It was five years back.“
Now it was on him Juliana turned, eyes slitted with fury. “I wasn’t ‘yours,’ you weak-loined nothing. I made use of you for a while and that was all. Don’t ever go saying I was ‘yours.’ ”
‘But it was Master Haselden killed Montfort, not Stephen, wasn’t it?“ Frevisse asked, still quietly.
The quietness seemed to grate worse on Juliana than Master Haselden did. “What? Yes, of course it was him, not Stephen,” she snapped.
‘Damn you, that’s a lie!“ Master Haselden swore, ”I wasn’t anywhere near Montfort that day once he’d done yapping at me at my place.“
‘You were at the priory,“ Frevisse reminded.
‘Yes, I was at the priory. I was with Domina Matilda in her parlor and there was some old nun muttering her prayers in the corner who’ll say so along with Domina Matilda. I was nowhere near the garden.“
‘You know where the garden is, though? Where Montfort was killed?“ Frevisse asked.
‘Of course I know where the garden is. I had an aunt was a nun in St. Mary’s. I went more than once to see her while she was dying, carried her out into the garden twice at least. But I was nowhere near it the day Montfort was killed.“ He rounded on Christopher. ”What’s she playing at? This is your business, not hers. Shut her up.“
‘She has my leave to make it her business,“ Christopher said evenly. ”Tell her what she asks.“
That was trust out of the ordinary since he did not know what she was doing, did not yet know he had told her something today that had finally brought things together in her mind, and she said at Master Haselden, “You’re the bailiff for Goring. It would have been you who gave the order for the mill to be repaired the day Master Montfort was murdered, yes?”
Now finally wary, Master Haselden granted, “Yes.”
‘So you knew better than anyone that the ditch would be drained that day, giving a way to come at the garden there otherwise wouldn’t be.“
‘Half Goring, if not more, knew the ditch would be drained that day.“
‘How many also knew the miller would be gone to visit his daughter?“
‘More than enough. I doubt he kept it a secret.“
‘And that the workers would be out of the way, having a midday meal you paid for them at a tavern?“
‘There’s nothing in all that,“ Master Haselden said strongly.
‘There’s not much but there’s something,“ Frevisse said back. ”It’s that you were in the prioress’s parlor brings it all together. It’s no great drop from the window there to the ditch bank.“
‘What?“ Master Haselden’s scorn almost rang true. ”What do you think I did? Said ’Pardon me, my lady‘ and dropped out of her window and she never thought on it again?“
‘I’m saying you set your visit to her just before Nones, knowing she’d go off to the Office and think nothing of letting you leave the cloister on your own, used as you both were to you being there as Suffolk’s bailiff. All you needed do was go down the stairs with her and when she hasted off to the church along with the other nuns you turned around and went back to the parlor. If you met a servant, you said you’d forgotten something. Once out the window and into the ditch, you were safe from being seen from anywhere but the mill, where no one was likely to be.“
‘And after I’d done for Montfort, I somehow crawled back through her window, dirty with mud and dripping, and strolled out of the cloister, leaving no trace? Are you really supposing that’s what I did?“
‘No,“ Frevisse said coldly. ”I think you went back along the ditch and came out at the mill where you knew nobody would be. If anyone saw you after that, going around to the gate back into the yard, you could say you’d been at the mill seeing how the work was coming on and had slipped into the mud. Not that anyone was likely to think much of muddy boots with all the mud there is around these days. Whether you did meet anyone who will remember when we ask doesn’t matter. We only have to ask your servant left waiting with the horses which way you came back into the yard. From the cloister and through the gateway.“
‘He won’t know,“ Master Haselden said. ”He’s doing good the days he can keep track of where his feet are.“
Mistress Haselden had turned around a while before, keeping close to Lady Agnes but watching,
listening, to everything, and now, faint-voiced and staring wide-eyed at her husband, she said, “That’s why you took Walt with you that day, isn’t it? Because he won’t remember anything.”
‘Close your mouth and keep it closed!“ Master Haselden took a step toward her, and despite Christopher’s man moved into his way, stopping him, Mistress Haselden shrank back against Lady Agnes, a hand pressed over her mouth to hush herself.
It was Lady Agnes who said to Christopher angrily, “She means Walt is simple. He’s serviceable for plain things, but if Philip had come bloody to the thighs and elbows, Walt would not have wondered about it or remembered long enough afterwards to say anything to anybody.”
‘Damn you!“ Master Haselden said.
‘How you got Montfort to the garden is plain enough,“ Frevisse said. ”When he saw you that morning, you set up the meeting in the garden, for whatever reason you found to give him. The only great question left is why you killed him.“
The Clerk’s Tale Page 27