Mel Starr - Rest Not in Peace

“Money. Lady Margery said she’d not have wed Sir Henry had she known his circumstances. Said there were others she might have wed, and could do so yet, if she were free of him.”

“Not whilst Sir Henry lived,” Lord Gilbert said thoughtfully.

“Walter has overheard Lady Margery’s maids. They speak of her interest in some knights, he knows not who. They spoke of more than one.”

“Sir Henry was a cuckold?”

“Lady Margery’s maids did not say. Perhaps they do not know of a certainty.”

“A lady’s maidservants know all there is to know of her business,” Lord Gilbert said. “It might be well to speak to one.”

“Lady Margery might not permit it,” I said.

“She would if Lady Petronilla asked. I’ve heard my wife speak of one of Lady Margery’s maids as having great skill with needle and thread. What if Lady Petronilla should ask for the woman to be sent to her chamber tomorrow, to mend some garment?”

“Lady Margery would smell a rat. Lady Petronilla has servants as skilled as any who wait upon Lady Margery, surely.”

“Hmmm… aye, probably so. You do not wish to speak privily to one of Lady Margery’s maids, then?”

“Aye, I do. ’Tis a worthy thought. But how might it be arranged?”

“I’ll arrest one of ’em,” Sir Roger said.

“On what charge?” Lord Gilbert asked.

“Your silver was stolen, was it not? We know of it, and Walter, and the Lady Anne, Humphrey and Andrew also, but who else? I’ll send a sergeant to Lady Margery and have ’im seize one of her servants. What are their names? Which do you think most pliant?”

“Lady Petronilla would know who serves Lady Margery.” Lord Gilbert turned to his wife, who had, to this time, had no part of our conversation, but had listened intently. I believe there were events of the Battle of Poitiers she knew not of ’til that day.

“The youngest of Lady Margery’s maids is Isobel Guesclin. She might speak more readily than some, though I would be sorry to see her frightened in such a way. She is a shy, sweet young lass.”

“I’ll have my sergeant say only that she was seen near the screens passage the day the silver went missing, and Master Hugh wishes to ask if she saw any man lurking about the place.”

“She may deny being near the pantry,” Lord Gilbert said. “My sergeant will say that’s as may be, but he is to obey me an’ take her to Master Hugh an’ she can tell all to him.”

I could think of no reason to dismiss this subterfuge, other than the fright the maid Isobel might feel. And that would be brief.

“Tell your sergeant to bring the woman to the chamber off the hall. I will await her there.”

“Do be kind, Master Hugh,” Lady Petronilla said.

“You may trust my discretion.”

The chamber I spoke of was my own when I first came to Bampton to serve Lord Gilbert as his bailiff and surgeon to the town. A table, bench, and chair remained in the room. I moved the table and chair aside and placed the bench in the middle of the room, where slanting beams from the evening sun would illuminate whoever sat upon it.

Sir Roger’s sergeant, the pale lass beside him, appeared but a moment after I had completed rearranging the chamber. Evidently neither the maid nor Lady Margery made serious objection to the young woman being drawn away to be questioned.

I dismissed the sergeant and bid Isobel enter. I nodded to the bench and told the maid to sit. Sunlight, as I planned, came through the slim window and into her eyes.

In the past, when I found need to ask questions of men who did not wish to answer, I found it advantageous to stand while my subject was seated and required to look up to me. I thought the same procedure would be effective with a maid.

The lass blinked in the golden sunlight and before I could speak, said, “M’lady sent me to the buttery for wine. But I saw no other but the butler in the screens passage.”

Here was news which would make my task easier. The maid had evidently been near the pantry about the time Lord Gilbert’s silver went missing.

“The sergeant told you of the missing silver?”

“Aye. Said spoons an’ knives was taken.”

“And you may have been seen in that end of the hall, near pantry and screens passage, when the theft occurred.”

I saw a tear leave the maid’s eye. I disliked myself for what I was about. But if the deed helped discover a murderer, my conscience would be soothed.

“Never been near the screens passage alone but that once… to fetch a cup of wine. Only go there with m’lady. Never by myself. Lord Gilbert’s butler was there. I saw no other about, but perhaps he did. Was it he who said I was there?”

“Never mind. If you saw no other near the pantry, then perhaps ’tis you who made off with the silver?”

“Nay, I never did so.”

“Someone did. Did Lord Gilbert’s butler see you depart the screens passage with the wine?”

“Must have. Filled an ewer for me, an’ I took it to Lady Margery.”

“I shall ask him. If he saw you leave with the ewer you will be blameless. There is another matter I wish to speak to you about, as you are here.”

I saw relief wash across the woman’s face as I spoke. But the worried expression returned with my next question.

“There is gossip about the castle that Lady Margery does not grieve overmuch for Sir Henry’s death. What say you?”

The lass did not soon reply, but cast her eyes about the chamber as if seeking some escape. I waited.

“M’lady wept when she heard of Sir Henry found dead.”

“As might be, but tears may sometimes be false. When she is alone in her chamber, with only you and other of her servants, what does she say? What does she do?”

“Why do you ask this of me?”

“Because I am Lord Gilbert’s bailiff, and ’tis my task to discover who murdered Sir Henry whilst he slept under Lord Gilbert’s roof.”

“M’lady believes your potion ended his life.”

“She no longer does, and perhaps never did. She and Sir Henry quarreled, I am told.”

Isobel was again silent, unwilling to report things which a good servant must keep concealed. Again I waited, ’til the silence in the chamber became uncomfortable. For Isobel, not for me. After some time, when I did not speak, she did.

“Most wedded folk quarrel upon a time.”

“What were these quarrels about?”

Another period of silence followed. “Money, mostly,” Isobel finally said.

“I’ve heard that Lady Margery wished herself free of Sir Henry.”

Isobel’s eyes grew wide and she sat upright upon the bench, as if I’d thrust a pin between her shoulders.

“She’d not slay him,” the maid said.

“I did not say I suspect her of doing so,” I replied.

“But… you said…”

“When a woman wishes to be free of her husband it often means she desires another. Who would Lady Margery have preferred to Sir Henry? What does the gossip say?”

Isobel was again silent, and this time my patience was not rewarded, for although I waited quietly for the maid to find her tongue she remained mute.

“Regarding Lord Gilbert’s silver,” I changed the subject. “Whoso did such a thing might hang.” I was silent for a moment, then continued. “Sir Roger may wish to speak to you further on the matter of the silver, you being the only person near the pantry, other than Lord Gilbert’s butler, at the time the silver may have gone missing.”

Isobel became pale again as the implication of my words sank in. But the woman was no fool. She quickly grasped the reason for my changing the subject back to stolen spoons and knives and desired to leave the topic forthwith.

“M’lady has said often what a fine figure of a man is Sir Geoffrey.”