Inspired by her skill to a genuinely admiring comment, I stepped forward and said, ‘You embroider most beautifully, Lady Claude, and the images are so very artistic.’
Her only acknowledgement was a faint sniff. Did her stark and loveless view of the world disapprove of praise? She would probably disregard it as some machination of the devil, I reflected, designed to make a person so swollen-headed and pleased with herself that she stopped striving to do better.
I felt very sorry for her, stuck in that fetid room all by herself while everyone else was out in the sunshine having fun and Lord Gilbert was pretending to be a horse to amuse his little son. Crouching down close to her, I said, ‘Sir Alain is sleeping, Lady Claude. He was hit very hard, but fortunately there appears to be no permanent damage. He was awake earlier, and he spoke to my aunt and me perfectly rationally.’
She went on sewing.
I cast around for something to say that would draw her out. I thought I knew something of her turmoil. She wanted to be a nun, not a wife; she was extremely devout, perhaps to the extent of viewing the intimate life of husband and wife as a sin; she felt very guilty because her young seamstress would not now be dead had she not brought her here to Lakehall; and now, as if all of that were not enough, the man she was betrothed to had suffered a violent attack. No wonder the poor woman was suffering from headaches and insomnia.
I looked up at her, carefully at first, for I did not want her to know I was observing her. I realized quickly that she was totally absorbed in her needlework; I could stare as much as I liked. I studied her face. The stiff, white wimple seemed to have been drawn even tighter, its harsh edges biting into the flesh. The black veil looked as if it had been arranged with a meticulous, almost fanatical hand, so evenly did the folds hang around her. She was pale, so pale, and her skin had a sheen of grease, or perhaps sweat, for it was hot in that desolate little room. Her small, light eyes were deeply circled in grey. I knew without asking that she was not sleeping well, and I guessed she was in pain.
I closed my eyes and opened myself to her.
Instantly, her turmoil reached out and hit me, with a force so violent that it seemed almost physical. I endured it, concentrating on analysing what ailed her and what I could do to help. I gritted my teeth and tried to call up all I had been taught, but quite soon I had to accept that Lady Claude was beyond my aid.
Very tentatively, I reached out and lightly took hold of her flying hand. ‘Lady Claude?’
At first she resisted, trying to pull her hand out of my grasp. I held on tightly, and finally she gave a click of irritation, raised her head and looked me in the eyes.
Hers seemed to burn, glittering so fiercely in the dim light that, had my hand on her skin not told me otherwise, I would have said she was feverish.
‘What?’ she snapped. ‘I must get on!’ she muttered. ‘There is so much still to do — ’ she cast fearful eyes round the little room, taking in the untouched canvases and the piles of coloured wools — ‘and I have little time.’
‘You are not well,’ I said, trying to keep my voice low and soothing. ‘I have brought more of the draught that reduces pain, and also some medicine to help you sleep, but I sense that you are distressed beyond my power to help you. Will you allow me to bring my aunt to see you? She is very skilled, and she-’
Lady Claude’s eyes boring into me silenced me. ‘Your aunt is an attractive woman,’ she stated.
For the life of me, I could not see the relevance. ‘Er — yes, indeed she is.’ Edild has green eyes in a lovely face, and a tumble of glorious reddish-blonde hair that she normally restrains under a neat white cap.
Lady Claude was still fixing me with that imprisoning stare. ‘You, too, have the promise of beauty, although you are too thin, your figure boyish and lacking seductive curves.’
I know my own shortcomings perfectly well, and I did not need anyone pointing them out to me, especially a woman who looked like Claude de Sees. ‘Quite so, my lady,’ I said curtly.
It was a mistake. Her eyes narrowed, all but disappearing, and she snapped, ‘None of that insolent tone or I’ll have you whipped!’
Two thoughts struck me simultaneously: one was that Lord Gilbert would not allow anyone to be whipped for such a dubious offence; the other was expressed by a small, wailing voice inside my head that said plaintively, I’m here to help you!
I waited until my anger had subsided and then said, ‘Shall I fetch my aunt, my lady? She is at present watching over Sir Alain, for when he wakes there will be matters for her to attend to, such as feeding him, encouraging him to drink, bathing him and-’
With an action so sudden, so violent and so totally unexpected that it shocked me to my core, Lady Claude leapt up, flung her embroidery frame across the room and grabbed me by the shoulders.
Her fingers dug into me, and she shouted right in my face, so that I smelt her stale and foul breath, ‘Be quiet! I do not wish to be told of such things! Has your aunt no shame, that she is prepared to remain alone in the company of a man in such a state? Prepared to touch him?’
Angry in my turn, I stood up and tried to remove her hands. Her fingers were very strong — all that embroidery, no doubt — and she would not let go until I wrestled myself away and out of her reach. ‘My aunt is a healer,’ I said icily. ‘She cannot care for her patients without touching them.’ I backed away to the far corner of the room, only stopping when I was immediately beneath the window, high above me, and my back against the stone wall. I felt safer there, although I could not help wishing that Lady Claude was not standing between me and the door.
Making sure I spoke calmly, I said, ‘I will send for hot water, my lady, and make up a soothing draught for you to ease your pain and help you to rest.’ I was edging along the wall as I spoke, moving in front of the Deadly Sins embroideries hanging suspended side by side. She was watching me, and I felt her tension across the distance between us. ‘Lord Gilbert and Lady Emma will be back soon — ’ I prayed that was true — ‘and I will explain to them that you are unwell.’
I was standing opposite to her now, and the door was to my right. I had closed it, as she had commanded when I’d arrived. ‘I’m sure it will be all right for my aunt to leave her patient and come to you now,’ I went on, ‘and if Sir Alain still needs care, I can give it.’ I watched her carefully for signs of renewed fury, but my suggestion did not seem to disturb her. ‘Edild could stay here with you, if you would prefer her not to remain with Sir Alain,’ I offered. I knew full well that it was against everything Edild honoured in her calling to even think about taking advantage of a helpless male patient, but I did not think Lady Claude was open to reason just then.
I tried to think of encouraging things to say. ‘Sir Alain will not lie abed any longer than is necessary,’ I went on, still in the same carefully calm voice, ‘for he is justiciar here and still has two crimes to solve. I am quite sure, being the man he is, that he will soon pick up the trail that leads him to the killer’s door.’
She was observing me intently, her eyes slits in her pale face. Her hands were twitching, the fingers opening and closing as if she were still engaged on imaginary sewing. Out of nowhere I had a sudden image of Ida’s hands, her needlewoman’s hands, and I remembered that this pathetic woman in front of me had suffered a loss that was probably affecting her more than she would admit.
‘I know you were fond of Ida,’ I said gently. ‘Everyone who knew her seems to have loved her. You must miss her very much.’ I edged closer to her. It was surely not helping to restore her equanimity to have me drawing myself so obviously away from her. She needed to see that I was happy being close to her; that I did not find her repulsive.
Which was difficult, because just at that moment I could hardly bear to be in the same room as her and she was making me feel sick.