Simon Beaufort - Deadly Inheritance

Giffard was aghast. ‘How can you say such things?’

‘I am being practical. You want to be told that Agnes and Walter are innocent. But you must accept the possibility that you will learn otherwise. And you should consider what you would do with such knowledge. If you think your dreams are haunted by Sibylla’s cries for vengeance now, imagine what they will be like if you discover your family is responsible.’

‘So, what should I do?’ Giffard’s face was anguished.

‘Marry Agnes to a man who will keep her in a remote manor. Or place her in a convent. You must know some trustworthy abbesses. But we are assuming she is guilty. What evidence is there?’

‘None,’ admitted Giffard. ‘Just the fact that she dallied with the Duke when Sibylla was in confinement, and that Sibylla was conveniently dead a few days before that confinement was due to end. And my brother’s death was very timely, too. He died the very week that this lustful liaison between the Duke and Agnes began.’

‘That is nothing but a set of coincidences – and there is certainly nothing to implicate Walter.’

‘You think I should ignore that my brother might have been murdered by his wife and son?’ cried Giffard. ‘Ignore that, buoyed by their success, they then struck at Sibylla? And ignore that their selfish actions have caused immeasurable damage to Normandy, because its one sane voice is stilled forever?’

Geoffrey accepted his point, but did not think much could be done to rectify such wrongs. ‘I do not see what else you can do.’

Giffard turned on Geoffrey, and the knight saw anger in his eyes. He had never seen the prelate so disturbed. ‘ Your brother was killed. Will you look the other way and pretend it did not happen?’

‘No,’ admitted Geoffrey.

‘Nor I. I want the truth, Geoffrey, and I want you to find it.’

Geoffrey did not see how he could oblige, and attempted to convey this to Giffard. Duchess Sibylla had died in Normandy, and he could hardly travel there and start asking questions in the Duke’s household.

‘Then you must make do with who is here,’ argued Giffard. ‘Agnes and Walter did not travel alone – a number of people were in Normandy when Sibylla died, and many of them have come to meet the King. That is how I was able to order Agnes and Walter home without arousing suspicion.’

‘Who?’

‘Eleanor de Bicanofre, for one. She went to be inspected by a Normandy knight as a possible bride, but she is back, so the man obviously did not take her. Her brother Ralph accompanied her. Then there was Abbot Serlo, who had business in Rouen. Also Baderon and his children: Hilde and Hugh. And fitzNorman and his sister Margaret.’

Geoffrey’s head was spinning. ‘All these people went to Normandy?’

‘Will you help me?’ asked Giffard desperately. ‘If you do not, I shall have to do it myself, but I do not know how.’

‘I cannot – I have no authority to interrogate these people. Besides, I must investigate my own brother’s death, and I cannot ask too many questions. Some of the people you mentioned are on my list of suspects for his death, too.’

‘All I want to know is whether Walter had a hand in Sibylla’s death,’ said Giffard. ‘I believe Agnes is guilty, but I need to know about him . He will come of age soon and, although Earl of Buckingham is not the richest title, he may use it to become powerful. I do not want him to be another Belleme.’

‘He will not,’ said Geoffrey, not believing Walter to have the strength of personality to become a despot.

‘I must know,’ insisted Giffard, almost tearful. ‘How can I be consecrated when my conscience is troubled by such dark family affairs?’

The two men stared at the throng in the yard below. Agnes moved away from fitzNorman and smiled at Baderon, who bowed. Walter followed her closely, watching with a face Geoffrey found difficult to read. Had he encouraged Agnes to poison the Duchess? Geoffrey thought about the boy’s clumsy Italian and confident swagger. He was certainly imbued with a sense of his own importance, and might well believe himself a cunning manipulator.

‘I did not sleep last night,’ said Giffard eventually. ‘I should rest, or I might doze off during an audience with the King. We shall talk again this evening.’

While Giffard slept, Geoffrey paced. He longed to be out riding, but was loath to quit the room, as he was almost certain to meet someone who wanted to fight him, marry him or demand a favour. He sent Bale for ale, and the squire returned with Isabel in tow. She sat in the window and talked about her father in terms that did not coincide with Geoffrey’s impressions.

‘You do not believe me.’ She was whispering, so as not to disturb the dozing Bishop. ‘I can tell.’

‘I do not know him well enough to say,’ he replied honestly. ‘I am sure he has his virtues.’

‘He has not forced me into a marriage that would make me unhappy. Nor Margaret. She is a wealthy widow, and it would be advantageous to use her, but he stays his hand. You should consider her, though – she is better than the others on offer. Hilde would bully you, Douce is stupid, Corwenna would flay you with her tongue and Eleanor . . . well, you know about Eleanor.’

‘She is poor,’ said Geoffrey.

‘Well, there is that, but I was thinking about her other drawbacks.’ Isabel gave a deep, sad sigh. ‘If Ralph continues to refuse me, I shall ask Abbot Serlo to make me a nun.’

‘Give yourself time before you take such a drastic step,’ advised Geoffrey, thinking Ralph was a fool to be put off such a dignified and generous bride. ‘Convents are not pleasant for those there for the wrong reasons.’

They both looked up as Margaret tapped on the door. ‘Your father wants you, Isabel,’ she murmured. ‘Do not linger or he will jump to the wrong conclusion.’

Geoffrey wondered what conclusion that might be. That Isabel had made her choice regarding husbands, and it was not Ralph? That Geoffrey had taken over where Henry had left off, and was having another go at impregnating a fitzNorman? Obediently, Isabel slipped away, leaving Geoffrey with Margaret.

‘I am sorry I did not warn you that the King had arrived,’ Margaret whispered. ‘My first thought when I saw him was that you would want to escape, but there was no time. He was not expected so soon, and his arrival threw everyone into confusion. He asked who was here, and your name was mentioned before I could tell my brother to leave it out.’

‘You would have misled the King on my account?’

She smiled. ‘You are transpiring to be a good friend – you are gentle with Isabel, for a start. I understand she told you about her misguided attempt to save Ralph.’

‘It is a pity you were not here to stop her,’ remarked Geoffrey.

Margaret agreed. ‘I was appalled when she told me. The pity is that it was all for nothing: she lost the child anyway.’

They were silent for a while, with only Giffard’s deep breathing accompanying their thoughts.

‘Your bishop sleeps well,’ remarked Margaret.

‘He has a clear conscience. He spent last night in prayer.’

‘If only his family were like him. His nephew is a stupid peacock who thinks only of fine clothes, while his sister-in-law seems determined to bed every man she meets.’

‘You speak very bluntly.’ Geoffrey was interested in Margaret’s astute insights. ‘I understand she is a recent widow.’

‘Last July. Then she set her sights on the Duke, and she was not pleased to be dragged away by Bishop Giffard’s summons.’

‘I thought the Duke was in love with Sibylla. Why would he be interested in Agnes?’