Kate Sedley - The Three Kings of Cologne

I accepted my beaker but, after a sip or two to show willing, pushed it to one side.

‘You haven’t answered my question,’ I reminded Emilia gently.

‘Which was?’

‘Did you suspect that anything sinister had happened to Isabella when she vanished?’

The nurse took a deep breath. ‘No, not really.’ When I would have spoken again, she held up her hand to stop me. ‘I know! What do I mean by “not really”?’ She drank some wine before continuing. ‘It was nothing but a fleeting suspicion. A faint feeling of unease, if you like, but no more than that.’

‘Did you voice your unease to Master and Mistress Linkinhorne?’

‘Once. But not with any conviction.’

‘They thought it unlikely?’

‘They both dismissed the notion out of hand. Although …’

‘Yes? Although?’

Emilia Virgoe shrugged her thin shoulders. ‘I remember thinking that Mistress Linkinhorne was less sceptical than her husband. But Amorette was always greatly influenced by him, and Jonathan soon persuaded her that the idea was nonsense. She agreed at once. And I didn’t press it. I didn’t truly consider it likely, myself.’

‘Why not?’

Suddenly she was angry.

‘What is this? An inquisition?’

I had the grace to blush. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just that for Mayor Foster’s sake, I’d like to get at the truth. As I explained, he wants to build his chapel, dedicated to the Three Kings of Cologne, alongside his almshouses. But he feels that unless Isabella’s killer can be brought to justice, he can’t ask for the ground to be re-hallowed.’

My companion nodded. ‘I can understand that. I know of Master Foster by reputation. A good man and a devout Christian. Very well! I’ll answer your questions, although if you’ve spoken to Jonathan Linkinhorne, I doubt if there’s much else I can tell you.’

‘You were Isabella’s nurse. Did she never confide in you? These three men she was reported as meeting — did she never tell you their names?’

Emilia Virgoe shook her head. ‘No, for the simple reason that she knew whatever she told me I should feel in duty bound to report to her parents. They were the people who paid my wages and I considered my loyalty was to them. In any case — ’ she took another sip of wine — ‘I was never sufficiently attached to Isabella to stand as her friend. Perhaps that sounds strange to you. I was her nurse from her earliest years, and nurses are generally regarded as the confidantes of their charges, very often taking the place of parents, who have other and more pressing concerns. But Master and Mistress Linkinhorne were doting parents and involved themselves in everything Isabella thought and said and did. I had little to do other than the washing and dressing of her, taking her for walks, singing her to sleep. So, in fairness to myself, I suppose I was never allowed to grow too close to the child.’

‘But after Isabella grew up, after she began to rebel against her parents’ smothering affection, didn’t she turn to you then?’ I urged.

Emilia shook her head. ‘My sympathies were with the mother and father. Isabella sensed that, and although we never discussed the subject, I can see now that she probably resented the fact. With hindsight, I can also see that it was a mistake. If my attitude had been less condemnatory, she might have taken me into her confidence more. You talk of Jonathan and Amorette Linkinhorne’s smothering affection, a phrase I have often heard repeated in the years since Isabella’s disappearance and which, I must admit, I have come to accept might have some justification. But at the time, all I could see was two people who desperately wanted the love of their only child, and who had no reason to be rejected so harshly.’ She smiled faintly. ‘I can tell by your expression that you don’t agree with me.’

I made no reply to that.

‘These three men,’ I said, ‘in whose company Isabella was reported as having been seen, did she never let drop a hint as to their identity?’

‘None. Oh, unlike Master and Mistress Linkinhorne, I never believed her protestations that the stories were all lies, made up by spiteful neighbours. That was ridiculous. There were too many of them. One neighbour might bear her a grudge, but not everybody. Besides, the various descriptions of the three men tallied with one another.’

‘So why do you think Master and Mistress Linkinhorne were so gullible? Why did two intelligent people allow themselves to be deceived?’

The nurse took another long draft from her beaker, while I watched, fascinated. The elderflower wine seemed to have no effect on her whatsoever, while my head was already whirling from the half dozen sips I had ventured to drink.

‘Because they couldn’t bear to think that Isabella was lying to them,’ she replied, replacing her now nearly empty beaker on the table and refilling it. ‘It’s a simple answer, but the truth often is simple, haven’t you found?’

It was my turn to nod, while moving my beaker out of range of the jar, as Emilia tried to replenish its contents.

‘What can you tell me about the day Isabella disappeared?’

‘Now there, I’m afraid, you’re unlucky,’ she said regretfully. ‘I was away visiting my sister in Bristol. Marian had been taken ill some days before — indeed, she died a fortnight later — and Master Linkinhorne had given me leave to visit her and to stay as long as I was needed. He and Mistress Linkinhorne only kept me on out of the goodness of their hearts. Isabella had far outgrown the necessity for a nurse. Dear heaven! She was twenty and past marriageable age, but averse to all suggestions by her parents that she should look about her for a suitable husband and settle down. I remember her saying once, “What do I want with a husband? Just another man who’d try to cage me!” So, by the time I returned home, Isabella had been missing for over six weeks.’

‘What were you told?’

Again, Emilia Virgoe gave that slight shrug of her shoulders.

‘Master Linkinhorne said that Isabella had run away. That she had been seen on the day she vanished with a man near Westbury village; that she had obviously eloped with him and that no doubt they would hear from her in due course when she needed their assistance. I asked what they had done to try to trace her, and I have to confess that it struck me as very little. But I could tell how bitter they were and how angry. I did suggest, as I told you, that some harm might have come to the girl, but the idea was dismissed, and indeed, knowing her reputation, I did not believe in it myself.’

I frowned. ‘She seems to have been remarkably successful in keeping the identities of three men a secret from almost everyone. Most young women like to boast of their conquests.’

‘Isabella was not like most girls. She was extremely secretive. One might say excessively so. I suppose I could agree with you that her parents had made her like that.’

‘Did you ever have the impression that she was afraid of them? Of her father, anyway?’

Emilia Virgoe laughed. ‘Never!’ She was emphatic. ‘Where the love and the need to be loved is all on one side and not on the other, it is the person without affection, or even the desire for it, who holds the whip-hand. Surely you can see that. I have always believed that love can inflict more damage than hatred ever can.’

I shifted uncomfortably. ‘You’re a cynical woman, Mistress.’

‘A philosophy too close to your own, perhaps?’ When I didn’t answer, she smiled wisely and nodded towards my beaker. ‘You haven’t finished your wine.’

I gave her a shamefaced grin. ‘To tell the truth, it’s too strong for me.’ I pushed my stool back from the table. ‘Well, thank you for your time. I won’t disturb you any further.’