I stared at Zarina, willing her to meet my eyes. After a moment she raised her head and looked at me. ‘You went to the island before dawn, didn’t you, Zarina?’ She made no response. ‘Haward followed you, searching for you, and he met you coming back. You were weeping.’
Still she did not reply. My mother tightened her hold on Zarina’s hand and glared at me, although I couldn’t help noticing that Haward did not — could not? — meet my eyes. My father, picking up on the sudden tension, came to stand beside me. ‘What are you suggesting, Lassair?’ His tone was guarded. My dear father is a very fair man. He is deeply protective of those he loves, yet always insistent that we must look for the truth. .
I turned to him quickly, trying to reassure him, then back to Zarina. ‘You claim you didn’t see Derman, yet when Haward got to the causeway not long afterwards, he spotted the body straight away. Didn’t you, Haward?’
My brother looked so wretched that I hated myself for what I was doing. But I had to know! He looked at Zarina, then at me. ‘It was only j-just light when I got there,’ he hedged. ‘Zarina could easily have f-f-failed to-’ Honesty fought with loyalty. Loyalty won. ‘She w-wouldn’t have s-s-seen him down in the w-water while it was still dark,’ he said firmly.
Oh, Haward. ‘She had gone specifically to look for him,’ I said. ‘There is starlight and usually moonlight except on a cloudy night, and last night was clear.’
I did not need to say more. I found it inconceivable that Zarina would not have noticed what Haward so clearly saw not long afterwards. Looking at her, I said, ‘Zarina, why did you lie?’
My mother cried out in protest, but Zarina, turning to her, whispered something and gently touched her cheek. Looking back at me, she said simply, ‘Because everyone knows I couldn’t marry Haward all the time there was Derman. Of all people, I had the motive to kill him.’ Her eyes filled with tears again. ‘I cared deeply for him, like I’d have cared for a child wholly dependent on me. He saved my life. I would not have hurt him.’ She turned to Haward. ‘I would have given you up, for all that I love you, rather than harm Derman.’ Then she threw her arms round my brother’s neck, pressed herself to him and sobbed as if her poor heart would never heal.
My mother looked up at me with a curt nod as if to say, There’s your answer!
I wanted to believe Zarina. I knew she loved my brother. In addition, she had sounded very plausible when she had spoken of her own brother. Yet there was something. . I knew we had not got to the bottom of this.
‘You’d better get your story ready,’ I said unkindly. I was angry, with her, with myself, and it spilled over into my speech. ‘Hrype’s gone to inform Sir Alain de Villequier that Derman’s been found dead.’
Nobody protested. Perhaps they were all so much worldlier than me that none of them had even contemplated my silly idea of concealing Derman’s murder and hiding his body.
My father said with dignity, ‘We shall be ready.’ He glanced at Zarina, a worried frown making deep creases in his forehead. ‘I think,’ he went on, ‘we had better tell the truth and say that you did see him in the water.’
Zarina’s head shot up, and the shock made her face go white. ‘No.’ Then, quickly: ‘They will not believe that I didn’t kill him. They’ll say I needed him out of the way and that I-’
I went to kneel in front of her. ‘They won’t believe you if you say you didn’t see him, Zarina,’ I said gently. ‘None of us really did, and we’re on your side.’
She looked wildly round at my father, my brothers, my mother, and finally at Haward. She said in a pathetic little voice, ‘Didn’t you?’ and slowly they all shook their heads.
I thought she’d be furious. Instead, an expression of such intense love spread over her face that I, too, felt like crying. ‘And you still took me in and looked after me, even though I’d lied to you,’ she said wonderingly.
My father said, ‘That’s what families do.’
There didn’t seem anything else to add.
I left them soon after that. I would have to speak privately to Zarina some time soon; the conviction that she was still hiding something just would not go away, and I cared far too deeply for my brother’s happiness to ignore it. With Derman dead, there was no longer any impediment to the marriage. Always assuming, that was, they didn’t come along and arrest Zarina for murder.
Had she killed her brother? No, came the answer, but it was tentative, and I wished I could have been certain.
I wandered back aimlessly through the village towards Edild’s house. As I approached the path up to it, I remembered what I had intended to do today: I had promised to pay another visit to Lady Claude. I had my satchel with me — I rarely go anywhere without it — and so I changed direction and headed on along the track out of the village towards Lakehall.
I was ushered into Lady Emma’s presence with such urgency that my immediate thought was she herself was unwell. Unfastening my satchel even as I hurried towards her, she saw my anxiety in my face and said quickly, ‘No, Lassair! I am well, thank the dear Lord, and — ’ she lowered her voice to a whisper — ‘the baby thrives.’
‘I am relieved to hear it, my lady.’ I tried to catch my breath. Bermund had been standing by the gate as if he had been waiting for me; he had grabbed my arm and made me move so fast that my feet had hardly touched the ground. Now I realized why. ‘You sent for me.’ It was not a question, for I knew she had.
‘I did.’ She frowned, looking puzzled. ‘You arrived very quickly, I must say.’
I smiled. ‘I was on my way here already, Lady Emma. I have another patient here besides you and, when I came to see her three days ago, she was not in her room.’
‘Of course,’ Lady Emma murmured. ‘Well, Lassair, it is indeed on Lady Claude’s behalf that I summoned you.’
‘She is unwell?’ In my head I ran through the symptoms she had complained of when I’d first seen her, recalling the remedies I had suggested and the doses I had prescribed.
Lady Emma put her head close to mine, although the only other people in the hall were a group of servants too far away to overhear. ‘She is anxious about the coming wedding,’ she whispered, ‘and, indeed, she was already tense and nervous on her arrival here a month ago. Then poor dear Ida died, for which Claude blames herself since it was she who brought Ida here.’
‘No blame can attach to her for that!’ I exclaimed. ‘The servant goes where the mistress bids.’ I imagined — although I did not say so — that, while Lady Claude might have been a hard taskmistress, nevertheless Ida would have been the first to appreciate that she could have done a lot worse. In an uncertain age when starvation was always lying in wait for most of us, a good job where the work was not too arduous and, above all, was indoors, was not to be sniffed at.
‘Yes, yes,’ Lady Emma was saying, ‘and both Lord Gilbert and I have repeatedly said as much to Claude.’ Her frown returned, deepening. ‘Now this morning we hear the dreadful news of the death of the simpleton. We tried to keep it from Lady Claude, but unfortunately she was entering the hall as Sir Alain was told the news.’ She sighed deeply. ‘Poor Claude begins to speak of this being an accursed place — ’ she looked slightly indignant, as indeed she might — ‘and I do fear, having listened to her wild talk, that her very reason is threatened by these foul deeds.’
I would not have been at all surprised. My impression of Lady Claude was of a driven woman, fierce in her desire to do her duty, intolerant of sin and of sinners. I sensed that there was something. . not quite right about her, was the best way I could describe it to myself. Well, the poor soul had been thwarted of her vocation. Perhaps this reaction to the horrors she perceived around her was a symptom of a woman in torment.