Which posed another question: why was Ned busy trying to incriminate his brother? Tom’s quarrel with the miller had obviously given him the idea of a night assault on Lambert; and it would have been he, no doubt, who persuaded the younger man to escape the villagers’ wrath by running away. ‘I believe in your innocence,’ he would have said, ‘but who else will? Save your skin while you can.’
But why did Ned want Tom out of the way? Because Tom’s increasingly aggressive and erratic behaviour was drawing attention to the Rawbone family once again? Because Ned was afraid that that attention would one day lead to a discovery of the truth? And to make matters even worse, I was being encouraged by Theresa Lilywhite to ask questions concerning her granddaughter’s disappearance; questions that were starting to rekindle interest in a mystery that had begun to fade from the public consciousness. Since my arrival in Lower Brockhurst last Wednesday, Ned must have seen me as nothing but trouble.
I now felt certain that it had been he, and no one else, who had overheard my conversation with Sir Anselm on Friday morning. He had never left the priest’s house, but stayed listening outside the kitchen door. Sir Anselm had said nothing that could point the finger of suspicion at anyone, but, like so many people burdened with other people’s secrets, he had been unable to prevent himself from arousing my curiosity. Ned must have realized this; so while he was attacking Lambert in order to throw suspicion on his brother, he had also administered a beating by way of a warning to the priest …
Three morrells all in a row: Petronelle, Maud and Ned … And suddenly there they were, all smiling at me out of the darkness. Maud was saying, ‘Strangers could see the likeness. Brothers and sister … Brothers and sister … Gilbert’s children died young. Weaklings like him. But Eris was strong … Strong, strong, strong …’
Petronelle started floating around me, shaking her disembodied head. ‘Go home, I said. Go home and tell your mother … I knew the truth, you see. I’d always known …’
Ned said nothing, but reached out slowly, but deliberately, towards me, hands extended, fingers splayed …
I came to my senses just in time to save myself from falling off the ladder. Fear gripped me as I realized that I had almost lost consciousness and that I was gasping for air in the stultifying darkness. I had to keep awake somehow, but lack of air was playing havoc with my senses. It was slowly dawning on me that I should be lucky to get out of the well alive …
‘It serves you right,’ Adela was scolding me. ‘You can never keep your nose out of anyone else’s business. I’ve warned you, time and again, Roger! The feast of Saint Patrick, you said. You won’t be here, though, will you …?’
Another woman joined her scolding to Adela’s. ‘Oh, dear God, what have you done?’ she was screaming at me. ‘You fool! What have you done?’
What had I done? Who was this harpy? Then my mind cleared as if by magic, and I recognized Maud Lilywhite’s voice. It was real, not a part of my dream. Summoning up my remaining strength, I raised one hand, balled it into a fist and hammered as hard as I could on the lid of the well.
‘Let me out, for pity’s sake!’ I yelled.
I could hear more shouting, voices raised in altercation. A fierce argument seemed to be raging. I yelled and hammered again. A moment later, the lid of the well was lifted and heaved aside. Maud Lilywhite, sobbing with relief at finding me still alive, reached down to help me climb out, watched by a sullen Ned Rawbone.
I only had time to gasp my grateful thanks before collapsing in an ungainly heap on the grass.
An hour later, after a walk I remember very little about except that Maud supported me with her arm around my waist, I found myself sitting in the Lilywhites’ cottage before a blazing fire, swaddled in a blanket and drinking a cup of mulled ale. Maud, ashenfaced, was attending to my every need, while her mother-in-law stared morosely at Ned Rawbone, who was seated on a stool, elbows on knees, head clasped between his hands.
‘Perhaps,’ Theresa suggested grimly, when the silence at last grew too oppressive, ‘one of you would care to tell me just what has been going on. I gather from the little that’s been said already, that Ned has tried to kill Master Chapman by throwing him down the well, or some such lunacy. What I want to know is why. What has the pedlar done to upset him?’
When neither of the others answered, I volunteered, ‘Master Rawbone’s afraid that I know – or think I know – what happened to your … To Eris.’
‘And do you?’ The older woman whipped round to face me. ‘Have you found proof that Tom Rawbone murdered her?’
I glanced from Maud to Ned, who both avoided my eyes. But they made no attempt to stop me speaking.
‘Have you?’ Theresa repeated fiercely.
‘I feel pretty sure that Tom didn’t kill Eris,’ I told her, ‘although his brother might like you to think so. In fact, I don’t believe she was murdered at all. Oh, I’m certain she’s dead, but I suspect that her death was an accident.’
Maud stirred suddenly and reached for Ned’s hand, gripping it tightly. ‘Go on,’ she said, when I hesitated.
‘Very well.’ I regarded her straitly. ‘I think Eris did come home that night, after the quarrel at the farmhouse. She did what Petronelle Rawbone wanted her to do: she told you what had happened. She told you she was going to marry Nathaniel. She was going to be mistress of Dragonswick Farm.’
Maud nodded, ignoring her mother-in-law’s gasp of astonishment.
‘Yes, Eris came home. She was triumphant. She gave me all the details of how she had managed to seduce Tom into deserting Rosamund for her and into proposing marriage; of how she had then received a better offer from his father. I was appalled at her conduct and told her so. But, of course, it didn’t make any difference. She was determined to marry Nathaniel, a man old enough to be her grandfather. My disapproval meant nothing to her. She had been headstrong and wayward since babyhood. Like,’ Maud added bitterly, ‘all the rest of her father’s family.’
Theresa interrupted furiously, ‘That’s an evil lie. The Lilywhites were all quiet, gentle people, just like my Gilbert.’
Maud raised her head at that and stared at Theresa for several unblinking seconds. Then she lowered her eyes again, but she seemed disinclined to continue. I glanced at Ned, but he said nothing, either.
I turned to Theresa. ‘Your son wasn’t Eris’s father, Mistress.’ I looked back at Maud. ‘You said just now that Nathaniel was old enough to be Eris’s grandfather. But he was her grandfather, wasn’t he? You were pregnant with Ned’s child when you married your husband.’
Theresa gave a great cry, then demanded harshly, ‘Is this true, Maud?’
Maud took a deep, trembling breath. ‘Yes,’ she admitted at last. Her clasp on Ned’s hand tightened. ‘We loved one another. We always have. But Nathaniel threatened to disinherit Ned unless he married Petronelle, and I didn’t want that to happen to him. He didn’t deserve it. He had worked too hard to make Dragonswick prosperous. But I was pretty sure by then that I was carrying his child, so when Gilbert arrived in the village from Gloucester, to dig a well for the Hemnalls, I set out to win his affections. And I was successful. Oh, as Eris grew up, I could tell that he began to suspect she wasn’t his, especially as his children were puny creatures who died young. But he never said anything. He never openly accused me, but his attitude towards me became more distant and cold.’
‘What happened when you told Eris the truth?’ I asked.
Maud grimaced. ‘At first, of course, she refused to believe me. Said I was making it up to stop her marrying Nathaniel. But I convinced her in the end, and then she went mad. She seized a knife that I’d been slicing bread with and attacked me. She was like an avenging Fury. I was sure she was going to kill me. There was a pot of water boiling on the fire. I picked it up and threw it at her.’ Maud began to sob and it seemed for a moment as though she would be unable to continue. But, eventually, she managed to control her emotion and went on, ‘It missed Eris, but she slipped in the puddle of water. She fell awkwardly and hit her head on the hearth stones. I heard her skull crack.’ Maud shivered. ‘It was horrible. I prayed that she was only stunned, but she wasn’t. She was dead.’