Belladonna at Belstone (40 page)

“Then who?”

“What happened on the night Moll died?”

“I gave out dwale before Compline.”

“To all your patients? Did you do that every night?”

“Not usually. But Elias was coming to see me.”

“Was it the same mixture you gave
to
all?”

“All of my patients had the same.”

“What then?”

“Elias arrived some time after, and when I went to the door, he made a sign to be silent. He had heard Margherita behind him.

Soon she was there, but she stood on the landing for some time before knocking at my door.“

“She’d have been listening to see if the man was in with Lady Elizabeth.”

“After a while she came and banged on my door. She was so noisy‘

Simon drew in a breath. “Where was Elias?”

“In my chamber.”

“Margherita didn’t see him?”

“I blocked the door and pushed her out, talking to her on the landing.”

“And then?”

“I told her not to be so silly and went back to Elias,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “I had to tell him about our child, and he hugged me and began planning our departure from the convent.”

“Did he leave you then?”

“No. We were together all the time. I didn’t sleep,” she asserted with a maidenly blush. “When it was near the time for the bell we rose and went down to the cloister; he needed time to get back to the canonical cloister, and I had to wash.”

“Moll was alive then? So you left him when you went to the laver?”

“Yes, but I’d seen him go to the church already.”

“What would have stopped him turning and returning to the infirmary?”

“There was no need!”

Simon looked away. “What if Margherita’s noise had woken Moll, for example, and she saw Elias there?”

Elias sat alone on a bench near the frater. Simon saw him from the church’s door and crossed the grass to him.

“Elias, Joan is dead. She confessed to the killing of Katerine and Agnes.”

“I had heard. News like that gets around quickly.”

“I thought you could help me with Moll’s death.”

“Me?” Elias attempted a surprised note, but only succeeded in sounding peevish and fearful. “Why me?”

Simon stared at his boot. “Because you were in the room with Constance. Joan was asleep - the dwale - and Margherita knocked on the door but was turned away by Constance. But Margherita made a lot of noise. I think Moll woke and saw you.”

Elias closed his eyes and let his head fall into his hands. When he looked up it was with a kind of resolution. “I saw her eyes widen. You don’t know what she was like! She stored up anything to threaten other people. Any sort of information; it didn’t matter what, so long as it served to make her look holy.

“Margherita banged on the door and Constance kept her from entering. I think Margherita was pleased Constance was alone because it confirmed her thoughts about the prioress. When she’d gone, that was when Constance came back and told me about our child. That was when I realised how much of a threat Moll was. If she was to tell the prioress, we’d be separated for ever. Constance would be sent away to another convent, and I’d be shipped to a strict monastery in Scotland or Ireland. I’d never see my own child.

“The only thing in my mind was that Moll could ruin everything. It kept going round and round in my head, that I was to have a child, and that Constance and I should try to run away and escape. And that Moll threatened us both, and our child.”

“How did you kill her?”

Elias swallowed hard. “I sat on her chest and held a pillow to her face until she stopped breathing. Then I slit her artery‘

“And this was while the church service went on? You were alone in there?”

“Before the church service. Constance and I went down, and I walked off towards the church, but it was as if I was
pulled back
to silence Moll. I didn’t want to, but she threatened our future lives.”

Simon nodded and stood.

Elias gripped his robe. “You don’t have to tell anyone, Bailiff. Leave it to me to confess. I shall, I swear, just as soon as I—‘

Simon shrugged himself free. “I was sent here to investigate a murder. Do you expect me to keep the truth from the bishop?”

It was two days later that Bishop Stapledon stood in the chapterhouse and eyed the nuns with a scowl.

“You have heard the story, God help us all. Does anyone have any further comments?” he rumbled.

Margherita stepped forward. Her head was lowered, as it had been for the previous days, and her voice was muted. “I beg forgiveness from my sisters. I have behaved appallingly, and don’t deserve to be forgiven, but I have confessed my sins and the good bishop has given me my penances.”

“Sister Margherita has insulted the whole convent,” Stapledon said. “She has shown herself to be contemptible and cannot continue as treasurer. As well as her personal penances, she must demonstrate her absolute humility. I have decided that for the next year she must lie at the door to your church at every service. You will all step over her on your way inside.”

“I have returned all the money I took,” Margherita said, and her voice trembled. “And I have thrown away my chest.”

“As will the rest of you,” Stapledon growled. “This is a convent. Your Rule forbids private possessions. Likewise, when the roof has been mended, any partitions will be taken down. You are all equal here, and all will have the same space, the same belongings…‘

Lady Elizabeth could not help her mind wandering as he continued. Would there be mention of her dog? Ah yes.

“And no more dogs! The only pets suitable for you are cats, because at least they perform a useful function. But you won’t have them in the church during services or at any other time.”

Lady Elizabeth winced, but wasn’t overly concerned. Princess was not going to be thrown from the convent. She would remain with the prioress, no matter what the bishop said.

Stapledon moved on. In this speech he covered every aspect of their Rule, and when he was sure they understood, he turned to watch Bertrand while he wrote furiously confirming the bishop’s commands. Bertrand did not look happy, Lady Elizabeth noted with pleasure.

Neither did some of her nuns. Denise had not recovered from the bailiff’s accusation that she might be a murderer, and she stood glowering bitterly at her place. Constance was unhappy too. The nun stood with her face cast down, like a young novice accepting a severe sentence after misbehaviour. Lady Elizabeth shook her head slowly. So young to be so unhappy, but she had taken the vows. The prioress frowned, but was drawn away from dangerous thoughts by the Bishop’s raised voice:

“… And in future you will not be drinking until all hours after Compline. This kind of behaviour leads to shame - for you here among your servants, but also abroad, for news of your behaviour will spread to the outside world. It will also lead to oversleeping when you should be at services,” he said glancing meaningfully at Denise, “and that means you miss your duties. This will stop. In future you will
all
attend
all
services unless there are excellent reasons why you should not.”

“Thank you, Bishop,” Lady Elizabeth said soothingly. “We understand your anger and we shall of course do all within our power to atone for our past sins.”

“There is one last detail. Sister Margherita wrote to my suffragan suggesting that the prioress here had embezzled funds. That was untrue. She alleged that your prioress was guilty of murder. That was untrue. I find there is reason for censure of Lady Elizabeth, but not sufficient cause to remove her from office. I expect you to support her in her difficult role. I would have removed Margherita and sent her to a more strict convent, but the prioress herself begged for compassion. Because of her pleas I have decided she may remain here.”

Lady Elizabeth smiled graciously. “Now, is there anything else to be discussed?”

In a few minutes the meeting had closed and the nuns were all on their way to their work.

Constance had listened with quiet sadness, and now turned slowly and with a sigh to go to her place of work. There was much to be done now: Cecily was beginning to recover, and Sir Baldwin was healing nicely after his ordeal. She was in the cloister and making her way to the infirmary when the bishop and Bertrand overtook her. They reached the door before her and disappeared. She was about to enter herself when she felt a finger touch her shoulder.

“Prioress?”

“Constance, you looked so tired in there.”

“No, I am fine, my Lady. Just… well, you know. I miss him.”

“Hardly thoughts a young nun should entertain,” the prioress said primly. “Your mind should be set upon higher things, not men like a lovesick novice. How old are you?”

Constance reddened under Lady Elizabeth’s attack and said coldly, “One-and-thirty, my Lady.”

“After so many years you should know your duties. How long have you been a nun?”

“Nine years.”

“My word, really?” the prioress exclaimed.

Constance heard an edge to her tone. She shot the prioress a look. Lady Elizabeth was studying a novice at the far side of the cloister. “Look at that child. She wants to be a nun, but she can hardly set her wimple straight on her head. Three-and-twenty is too young to take the vows. How can a girl tell her vocation at such an age?”

“Some of us know our vocation!” Constance declared with feeling. She was silent as the prioress cast her a sly look.

“Really? And look how they show it!”

“That is unfair. I struggled and was found wanting, but I will not fail again,” Constance said, feeling the tears start. She sniffed and wiped them away.

Lady Elizabeth turned away. The novice was seated at a stone bench set into the wall. “So young… well, no matter. Until she is four-and-twenty, her oaths would be invalid. No woman can become a nun until then.”

So saying she entered the frater, and she smiled as she heard Constance give a short gasp of comprehension even as Elizabeth set her foot upon the first of the stairs.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“So! Sir Baldwin, I see you are quite the warrior when it comes to fighting old women.”

The knight eyed the bishop with a bitter grimace. His head was not better for his exertions. “Put it down to chivalry, my Lord Bishop. I wouldn’t wish to hurt a poor woman of her advanced years.”

Stapledon laughed. “I’m glad to see you are well enough to banter. How is it?”

Simon stepped forward. “Godfrey says he needs to rest. Later Godfrey will bleed him to remove some of the evil humours.”

“You say that a surgeon will be called, Bailiff?” Stapledon said pointedly.

“Yes,” Simon grinned. “A surgeon from afar.”

“Good. A clerk in major orders couldn’t undertake such a duty.”

“Do we know what led to all these murders?” Bertrand asked. He stood nervously behind the bishop, reed and ink ready to note any details.

Stapledon glanced at him, considering, but when he faced Simon and Baldwin he nodded. “It should be recorded.”

Simon took his seat upon a stool. “The reasons
why
are quite straightforward: for reputations. It all started years ago with Sister Bridget, who ran away and became pregnant, giving birth to Margherita. Bridget returned to the convent, although whether she was caught or voluntarily returned…‘

“She was caught,” said Lady Elizabeth, who entered at this moment. “But you never heard the beginning. Sir Rodney came here one day because he had fallen from his horse. Bridget was the infirmarer at the time, and the two fell in love while she nursed him. Shortly after he went home she ran away to follow him. I was a young novice at the time, but I remember it well. The bishop had her sought and returned to us, but she carried the proof of her unchaste behaviour: Margherita. Bridget was here for only a few weeks, and then disappeared again. Joan said that Bridget had been despondent and hinted that she had run off again. When she disappeared, we all thought that was what had happened.”

Baldwin spoke softly. “Even then Joan was unhinged. She murdered Bridget and buried her - she said in the floor of a shed near the gates - and then burned it to the ground.”

“I remember it!” Lady Elizabeth said. “We thought that the fire was started to distract us from her escape - that Bridget herself had started it.”

“The fire was designed to conceal her murder,” Baldwin said. He threw a look to Simon, who stirred.

“So we come to the more recent deaths. Joan heard that Moll thought Margherita had stolen from the priory’s funds.”

Again Lady Elizabeth was able to help. “Joan was the oldest nun. Many novices would tell her secrets they wouldn’t share with their closest friends.”

“That must have been it,” Simon agreed. “Moll saw what the treasurer was doing and didn’t know what to do with the information.”

“Usually she would speak to whoever was guilty of breaking the Rule in some way‘ said Lady Elizabeth. ”But I think she was awed by the size of the crime and by Margherita’s position. Maybe she sought advice from Joan. Joan was old and Moll probably thought she would know how best to deal with such a thorny problem.“

Stapledon frowned. “How would a novice have learned such a thing?”

“Moll could read and add,” Simon said simply. “It was her misfortune. If she was like the other girls, she would have had no idea what was happening. Although I still don’t know how she realised that Margherita was taking the money‘

Bertrand looked up from his paper. “I can explain that,“ he said.

“I saw the discrepancy myself on the rolls when I looked at the figures given to the priory; I was present at one meeting when money was handed over, and so was Moll. Perhaps she saw the numbers put in the ledger and asked Margherita why they didn’t match.”

“And Joan,” said Simon, “was convinced that when Moll died, Margherita must have done it. Joan never realised Elias killed Moll to conceal his affair with Constance.”

Baldwin agreed. “Joan was intensely protective of Margherita. Perhaps even in her madness Joan felt her guilt of making Margherita an orphan.”

“Which leads us
to
the other two,” the bishop observed.