Kate Sedley - The Wicked Winter

Audrey wriggled uncomfortably and cast an anxious Took towards the chapel door. 'We cannot be sure that it was murder. '

I ignored this remark. 'Who else?' I demanded inexorably.

She bit her lip. 'No one that I know of.'

'I think you're lying.' But my reproach was muted. 'You were close to your mistress. She was miserable and lonely and needed someone to talk to. You were always with her, attending to her wants. Who would she be more likely to confide in? When she sent for Brother Simeon, was it only to ask for his help concerning her husband's infidelity?'

'N-no,' Audrey replied nervously. A blush spread across the delicate features. 'She… She fretted about Maurice and.. and Fulk Disney.'

'She thought them lovers?'

The pale rose deepened to crimson. 'So she said. She… She tried to tell me… to explain things to me.'

'Did she also explain that in the eyes of the Church, it is one of the most heinous sins?' Audrey nodded. I continued, 'So you see, do you not, that when I ask you to tell me what you can recall of people's whereabouts the day before yesterday, it's not simply out of idle curiosity? Were you fond of Lady Cederwell?'

'She was good to me,' was the evasive answer. 'She promised me her russet cloak, and that's the truth, whatever some others might have you believe. It worries me to think that she could have been killed deliberately.' Audrey wiped away a tear. 'All right. I'll tell you what I can remember, but it won't be much, I'm afraid.'

In the event, Audrey Lambspringe's recollections proved to be greater than either of us had expected. Because she was left for many hours at a time to her own devices, while Lady Cederwell was at her devotions in the tower, and with nothing more to do than refurbish her mistress's small store of clothes, Audrey was at liberty to note the comings and goings of other members of the household, without herself being much observed in return. Her natural timidity and self-effacement meant that her fellow servants were inclined to overlook her, or discount her presence even when they knew she was there.

I had guessed this to be so when I approached her, and for that very reason had hoped to glean some useful information, but I had not allowed for an innate inquisitiveness which meant that she knew most of what was happening, both indoors and out.

On Tuesday morning, Sir Hugh had left Cederwell, riding his black horse, and had not returned until almost midday, long past dinner time, which had upset Martha Grindcobb.

She had been forced to keep his food hot over the kitchen fire and, as a result, had burned the meat and been cursed for her pains. When he had finished eating, the knight sent for Audrey and, having demanded the whereabouts of her mistress, set out for the tower. After some twenty minutes, perhaps longer, he had reappeared through the front porch looking, as Audrey put it, as though he had been visited by Old Scratch himself.

'You saw Sir Hugh?'

She nodded. 'I was at the bottom of the staircase, having but just come down from my lady's room.'

'Yet you thought nothing of it? The way he looked, I mean.'

'At the time, no, I did not. It was a bitter day, promising snow. He had gone out without a cloak, and I thought him white and shivering from the cold. It was only later, after my lady's body was discovered that I… well, that I thought there… might have been a different cause.'

'Did Lady Cederwell visit the tower every day?'

'Most days, as soon as she had finished breakfast, which she always ate in her chamber. Sir Hugh had turned the top room into a private chapel for her, and Father Godyer had consecrated it. My lady spent most of her time there. She said this was an ungodly house and she would not abide in it for more hours than she had to.'

Sir Hugh began to command more of my sympathy than heretofore. He had plainly had much to endure from his imprudent marriage.

I asked, 'And so you were not surprised when your mistress did not return to the house all day? Not even when darkness fell?'

'No.' Audrey pleated her skirt in her lap, her eyes fixed on her unquiet hands.

'What about food? Was she never hungry?'

'She ate very frugally. Some days Martha would send me with some victuals, and at others, my lady would take a basket with her.'

'What did she do on Tuesday?'

'She took a basket.'

'You're sure of that?'

'Oh, yes.' The answer came without hesitation. 'She was going to see poor Ulnoth.' Audrey glanced sideways at the body, then hurriedly looked away again. 'Twice or three times a month, during the winter, my lady would take the hermit a loaf of bread and a flagon of ale. Tuesday was one of those days.'

'Did she always walk there and back? It would be a long journey on foot, and even longer in bad weather.'

'Yes. She said it was a penance, an act of humility. A gra'merci to God for having so much when others have been given so little.'

I cast my mind back to that second visit which I had made to Ulnoth, when he had been so frightened. Once my eyes had grown accustomed to the gloom, I had been able to see everything there was to see, yet I had noted no loaf of bread nor flagon of ale. If Lady Cederwell had indeed set out for the boulder house, she had not arrived there. Who or what had prevented her? And why?

Audrey shivered suddenly. It was very cold in the chapel, and without thinking, she moved closer to me. I put my arm about her in a brotherly fashion.

'Did you notice Mistress Lynom's groom, the one they call Hamon, anywhere on the manor that day? He rode, and would, by my calculation, have arrived some while after noon, around the time that Sir Hugh was at the tower.' Audrey puckered her brow in an effort of concentration, but eventually shook her head.

'No,' she said with a regretful sigh, sorry to disappoint my expectations. 'Him, I did not see.'

I pressed her shoulder gently. 'No matter. There were those whom you did. Can you recall where other members of the household were throughout that day? In particular, during the morning.'

'Martha Grindcobb was in the kitchen,' she answered promptly. 'I was in and out of there three or four times before and after dinner and she was present each time, as were Ethelwynne and Edith and Jenny. Master Disney was away, collecting the master's rents, as he had been for the two days before that. Poor Master Empryngham, God rest his soul — ' Audrey crossed herself ' — was in his bedchamber, reading.

At least, he was when Martha sent me in to him with a cup of hot, spiced ale half an hour or so before dinner was ready.'

'And his wife?'

'No, she wasn't there.' Audrey frowned. 'I don't recollect clapping eyes on her all moming.'

'Where could she have been, then, do you think?' The thin shoulders rose and fell. 'The bakery, perhaps. Or the dakry or the laundry. Mistress Empryngham was always very busy about household concerns in Lady Cederwell's absence. She resented the fact that Mistress Talke wears the keys at her belt instead of herself. I once overheard Master Steward tell Martha Grindcobb that when my lady and her family first came here from Gloucestershire, Mistress Empryngham wanted Mistress Talke dismissed, because she felt that she should be in charge of the day-to-day running of the house.'

'So, Adela Empryngham was out of your sight all morning. Did she come in to dinner?'

'Oh, yes! She joined her husband in their room and stayed there for several hours. The weather was worsening by that lime.'

'I remember.' I shifted my position. The stone bench was becoming uncomfortable. But I had not yet finished my inquisition. 'Mistress Talke and Master Steward, do you recall what they were doing on Tuesday morning?' Audrey giggled. She was growing used to me and beginning to treat me as a friend.

'I saw Mistress Talke go into Tostig Steward's room on more than one occasion.' She lowered her voice to a confidential whisper, although there was no one to overhear us. 'He keeps a flask of brandy wine in the comer cupboard. I know, I've seen it. He likes a little sip now and then, and so does Mistress Phillipa.'