Davoir turned thoughtful. This woman was not one prone to fantasy, and the admission of this conclusion had cost her dear. That she had told Prioress Eleanor first might be a questionable decision, but he could understand it. In fact, their delay before informing him was a trifling thing.
As the nun looked at Prioress Eleanor, the woman’s anger was replaced with sorrow. “Although I did not have pre-knowledge of this appalling deed by my brother, or any involvement in perpetrating his scheme, my sinful resentment and failure to completely rid my heart of bitterness over my humiliation years ago makes me complicit in the troubles brought upon these innocent people. I have resigned my position as sub-prioress and have begged to be reassigned to the lowliest duties normally done by a lay sister.”
Prioress Eleanor let silence fall so that the full meaning of Sister Ruth’s words would be understood. Finally, she said, “Are you satisfied, Father?”
He did not reply, choosing to study the color of his wine.
“Let me also clarify one other matter,” the nun said, gritting her teeth. “I have learned that you accused Sister Anne of killing your clerk, either because she is incompetent or because she was trying to protect Prioress Eleanor.”
Davoir looked up from his contemplation and nodded, but he seemed surprised that this issue was being mentioned at all.
“Then you must listen closely.” The nun indicated her scarlet toe joint that was so inflamed it visibly throbbed. “Although I have often criticized our sub-infirmarian for using herbs and infusions when prayer is preferable, I cannot quarrel with the success of her cures. Our hospital is famous across the land for the efficacy of…” She hesitated, then gestured at Sister Christina, “…of the work done by these two women who toil unceasingly to save lives. Until you ordered her locked into a cell, Sister Anne used the same remedy for my gout that you say she used to kill your clerk. I have found much relief in that cure, until now when I cannot get any more of it due to her absence.”
“Most regrettable,” Davoir muttered.
“And if Sister Anne wanted to kill anyone to relieve Prioress Eleanor of a troublesome creature, Father, it would have been me. She knows how long I have resented our prioress, how often I have argued against her decisions, and how much I disagree with the sub-infirmarian on the care of the dying.” Sister Ruth straightened in the chair and pointed to herself. “Yet I sit here, many years after the arrival of our beloved and honored prioress, quite alive. And, if you would admit your error and let her go, I might even become well again instead of suffering as I do!”
Chapter Twenty-nine
Father Davoir sat in silence.
Although Brother Thomas and Crowner Ralf remained, the two nuns had left the chambers.
Prioress Eleanor waited.
Gracia stood by the door, her eyes wide with curiosity. As she looked from priest to her mistress and back again, her shifting gaze was the only motion in the deceptively still room.
At last the priest spoke. “I am a judicious man, Prioress Eleanor. I did not come to Tyndal with an ardent desire to find you guilty of the charge against you. I wished to gather all the facts and dispassionately establish the truth based on reasoned judgement.”
Reasoned judgement? Eleanor bit her lip. When he suggested she might have ordered the death of the clerk, he most certainly was not basing his decision on facts. When he ordered Sister Anne thrust into that cell, he did so out of anger and grief, not logic. The effort not to admonish him was almost more than she could bear.
But then she heard a low growl from Crowner Ralf and knew it was her responsibility to remain calm and keep this meeting civil. It did not matter whether she liked this priest or not, he was the brother of her abbess and a man of great influence in the French court.
If she said what she wished, she could endanger far more than the release of Sister Anne in time to help at Gytha’s birthing and the conclusion that she and Brother Thomas were irrefutably innocent of the charge against them. Were she rash, the consequences of her actions might well nip at the pride of kings. The past was littered with corpses slaughtered in battles waged for lesser insults than what an English baron’s daughter and prioress might inflict on a French religious whose head would soon wear a bishop’s miter.
With effort, Eleanor’s smile successfully conveyed the expected appreciation in response to Davoir’s words.
“But when my clerk was killed and the only cause seemed to be the medicine sent by your sub-infirmarian, I had reason to suspect that she was either incompetent or had tried to protect you out of some benighted hope that I would be frightened away or perhaps less inclined to find you guilty of the charges against you.” He raised his hands to suggest how obvious his conclusion must have been.
Eleanor nodded. Her neck ached from the effort to do so politely.
“Now I fear that someone wishes me ill and the attack against Renaud suggests that the death of Jean might not be solely due to your sub-infirmarian’s incompetence.”
Eleanor could understand why someone might want to wring this priest’s neck. “Indeed,” she said.
“I might still be inclined to suspect you had a hand in this, considering the seriousness of the allegations against you…”
Ralf stepped forward.
“Peace, Crowner,” the prioress whispered.
“…but the words of your sub-prioress made me pause in thought. She had no love for you after your king sent you to replace her, a woman so respected by the religious of this house that she was duly elected to succeed the former prioress. Her great resentment is a sin, but, for once, truth was strengthened by her human wickedness.” He smiled. “Her testimony on your behalf was powerful.”
Eleanor smiled back. “I shall long remember that insight, Father.”
For a moment, he said nothing and sat watching her with a preoccupied look. Then his brow smoothed, and he waved one hand in a gesture of surrender. “I have erred in suspecting you of complicity in murder,” he said, “and your sub-prioress has convinced me that you are innocent of the charges laid against you.”
“Although Sister Ruth is an honorable woman and strives to speak with honesty under all circumstances, I would not want you to take the word of only one member of our community, Father. I hope you will question others here as well.”
“I have.”
Of course, you have, Eleanor thought, but in this one instance I am glad you did pursue your investigation beyond all good sense. “And have you found support or condemnation? I do not ask for the names of those who gave witness to either.”
“Nothing but praise,” he replied. “Some have called you blessed.”
“Which I am not,” she quickly replied with a modest bow of her head, “being a frail mortal and a lowly daughter of Eve.” Seeing he was about to say more, she decided she must control the conversation until he had admitted all she wished in front of Crowner Ralf, the one presumed impartial witness. “I am sure you found none who had any criticism of Brother Thomas.” She was tempted to smile up at the monk but deemed it unwise lest her gesture be misinterpreted.
“Again, I heard only acclaim. Some have even said he most resembles the founder of this Order in the strength of his virtue.” Davoir looked briefly at the monk, his expression suggesting that he had found this discovery regrettable.
Brother Thomas followed the example of his prioress and lowered his gaze in silent humility.
“May I speak, my lady?”
Crowner Ralf rarely sounded so meek. Had the circumstances been different, Eleanor might have teased him. Instead, she gravely gave consent to his request. Looking at his eyes, she saw them glittering with fury, although his demeanor otherwise suggested calm. Taking a deep breath, she decided she must trust him not to decapitate the priest in front of her.