He cradled his mother’s slim, shaking body in the shelter of his arms. Her warmth made him stop shivering.
“It’s all right, Mama,” he repeated. He patted her narrow back gently. “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be all right.”
26
It was Guy who stepped forward and said, “I think we had all better repair to someplace where we can discuss this matter privately.”
In silence, the rest of the party followed Guy down the chapel stairs, across the landing, and then up a narrow spiral staircase that ascended to one of the towers. The room at the top of the stairs was well furnished and comfortable and adjoined a small bedroom. Guy told them all to sit down, then went around the room lighting the candles.
It was little wonder that Hugh had lost his memory, Philip thought, as he took a stool at a little distance from the rest of the group. His mind had been trying to protect itself from an almost unbearable knowledge.
Hugh and Isabel had seated themselves side by side upon the wide window seat, and the closed wooden shutters acted as a frame for their elegant dark heads.
Guy finished lighting the candles and took his own chair.
They all looked at each other.
It was Hugh who finally broke the silence.
“So.” His voice sounded composed, although his face was still very pale. He said to the priest, “When did you decide to place the blame on Walter Crespin?”
Father Anselm’s eyes were urgent as he looked back at Hugh. “It was never my plan to blame Walter,” he returned. “After it happened, Walter and I decided that the best thing would be to follow Lady Isabel’s original plan and get you away from Chippenham. You were understandably shocked, and we did not want you to have to answer questions. So we all agreed that Walter would escort you to Evesham.”
Philip glanced at Isabel. She was looking at Hugh with naked longing in her eyes.
Father Anselm continued speaking to Hugh. “I don’t know what happened on that journey except that you must have been set upon by outlaws. The following day, instead of hearing from Lord Simon that you were safe, we learned that Walter had been killed and you were missing.”
Isabel suddenly lowered her head.
Father Anselm said, “You can imagine how your mother felt when she heard that news.”
My God, Philip thought in horror. What a tragic sequence of events.
Isabel said, “Do you have any memory at all of what happened on the road, Hugh?”
A flash of something glinted in Hugh’s gray eyes, and then the familiar shutters came down. He shook his head and said regretfully, “I remember nothing of what happened to me until I met Ralf.”
He remembers, all right, but he is not going to tell her, Philip thought.
The priest went on with his story. “I gave Walter a few hours’ start and then I pretended to discover Lord Roger’s body. I am being honest when I tell you, Hugh, that it never occurred to me, and I’m sure it never occurred to your mother, to cast the blame on Walter.”
Silently, Isabel shook her head.
“It was the knights at the gate who had let Walter and you out who first raised the cry against him. I persuaded Lady Isabel to keep silent until we were certain that the two of you had arrived safely at Evesham.”
For the first time, Guy spoke, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “Just who were you going to blame for Roger’s death? I presume that Isabel was not going to confess.”
“I would have confessed to the crime myself,” the priest said quietly. “I knew that I was greatly to blame. I should have sent for Lord Simon months before.”
Philip stared at the priest’s tortured face as he looked at Isabel and made a discovery. He loves her.
“I would never have let you do that, Father Anselm,” Isabel said firmly. She gave Guy a level look. “I would have confessed rather than stand by and see an innocent person blamed.”
Guy looked skeptical. He opened his mouth as if he would speak, but Father Anselm was before him.
“Our first priority was to get Hugh under the protection of his uncle. I know that I, at any rate, was hoping that Lord Simon would tell us what we should do next.”
The priest looked again at Hugh. “Then the news came that Walter had been killed, and shortly after that his body was returned to Chippenham. He had been stabbed to death.” Father Anselm looked very tired. “As you can imagine, Lady Isabel was in no state to make any decisions at all, she was so distraught by the news of your disappearance. When Lord Simon arrived, I told him the whole, and he and I deemed it best to allow Walter to take the blame. He would not have minded. He would have been glad he could do something to protect Lady Isabel.”
Isabel made a small sound, like an animal in pain.
Hugh’s face was like stone.
“A convenient conclusion,” Guy said with heavy irony. “There is only one part of this story that has never made sense to me. What reason would this Walter have for wanting to kill my brother and kidnap his son?”
The room was utterly silent.
Then Isabel said quietly, “A year before, I had had a love affair with Walter’s brother, and when Roger found out about it, he had Ivo castrated. Then Ivo killed himself. So you see, Guy, Walter had good reason to wish Roger dead.”
The look of horror on Guy’s face echoed the horror that Philip knew must be engraved on his own features.
Castrated. Dear God. What kind of man had Roger de Leon been?
Isabel clasped her arms even more tightly around herself. Hugh appeared to be staring intently at his boots.
“Who knew about this?” Guy said harshly.
“All of the castle knights knew,” Isabel replied. “That is why they were so quick to point a finger at Walter. They all knew that he had a reason to wish Roger dead.”
“I cannot believe that I never heard a word of this,” Guy said.
“The household wished to protect Lady Isabel,” Father Anselm said. “No one wanted to see her suffer any more than she already had. The knights all held their tongues.”
Guy shifted his heavy frame in his chair. “Unfortunately, the result of all of this concern for Isabel’s reputation led to blame being cast on me. You are aware, I presume, that for years I have been suspected of having paid Walter Crespin to kill Roger so that I could assume my brother’s honors?”
“Perhaps there was suspicion, but there was no proof,” the priest said. “We knew there never would be proof, because there was none to be found.”
The candles in the room all flickered at once, as a chill breeze came into the room from under the closed door.
For the first time in a long while, Hugh spoke. “It seems to me that you came out of this tragedy the best of us all, Uncle. You became the Earl of Wiltshire, one of the most powerful men in the kingdom. On the other hand, my mother locked herself away in a convent for fourteen years, and I lived for most of my life without knowing who I was. I cannot find it in my heart to feel sorry for you.”
His voice had an edge that could cut glass.
Guy’s head jerked up and the two pairs of gray eyes met and held.
“I am still the Earl of Wiltshire,” Guy said grimly. “And I intend to remain so.”
Hugh’s eyes were cold as the winter sky. He looked back at Guy and did not reply.
Philip, staring at Hugh’s still, dangerous face, thought, After all, he is his father’s son.
He shivered at the thought.
Suddenly Philip remembered another death.
“You may not have been responsible for the murder of your brother, my lord, but what of the knight who was killed at your tournament?”
Guy swung around to stare at Philip. “I had naught to do with that. It was a mêlée, for God’s sake. Men get killed in mêlées all the time.”