But Helewise was following another thought. ‘Meriel, too, said that Alba was instrumental in Adela’s death,’ she said. ‘Is that truly so?’
‘It is.’ Bastian’s face was grave. ‘The girls used to use the old tumbledown cottage as a sort of play house, and, I suspect, as a refuge. Alba rarely went there — whenever the girls and their mother were out of the farmhouse, she used to bask in being in sole charge. One day, Adela took the girls to the old cottage for the day, and they were having such fun that Adela forgot the time. She rushed home to start on Wilfrid’s dinner — he used to be violent if his meals were late — and all would have been well except that Alba told him. She said something like, what a shame we have to have this stew again! Had Adela not been so late home, she would have had time to prepare something fresh! Wilfrid ordered his wife to cook something else, but she had nothing to cook. She was going to slip out, run all the way down to the village and try to beg something from kindly people there, but Alba said slyly that it surely wasn’t fit for a wife of Wilfrid’s to be seen begging. Wilfrid agreed and told Adela instead to go and dig up some vegetables from their own plot. He wouldn’t let her back inside until he was satisfied she’d got enough to feed them all. It was raining, and dark, and cold, and Adela took a chill. Weakened by it, she succumbed to the ague.’
‘They were monstrous, Alba and her father!’ Helewise cried. ‘Especially Alba!’
‘Monstrous?’ Bastian seemed to reflect. ‘Yes, perhaps. But we have to look at it from Alba’s viewpoint, Abbess. Unwanted at birth, thrust on to a father who didn’t want her either, then, as soon as she began to make some progress in her life, the father ousts her by taking a wife and begetting two enchanting little girls. Whose mother, incidentally, adored them both and worshipped the very ground they walked on. Whereas Alba’s mother was a reviled, hapless woman who had died at her birth.’
‘I do see what you mean,’ Helewise acknowledged. ‘But her distressing background cannot be allowed to condone her behaviour.’
‘I did not intend to suggest that it should,’ he said. ‘But what happened to her when she was young can perhaps explain why she grew up as she did.’
‘She murdered a young man.’ Helewise felt the horror begin again. ‘Whom she believed to be Jerome. Did she know they were married, he and Meriel?’
‘No. Nobody knew except Berthe. She knew about Jerome from the start, and was sworn to secrecy. But the poor child inadvertently let the secret out to Alba that Meriel and Jerome were in love. They all knew Alba would make a fuss, both because she couldn’t bear to lose control over any of her family, and also because, although she had never met Jerome, she had heard that he was an orphan, brought up by distant kin and very much a poor relation.’
‘What did they do?’
‘Jerome had a constant companion; another orphan brought up in the same place. He was a splendid youth, by the name of Felix, and he suggested that, to put Alba off the scent, they pretend that he was Jerome and Jerome was Felix. The idea was that Felix would be pointed out to Alba as if he were Jerome, and he would lead her off on a wild goose chase and give Jerome and Meriel a chance to slip away and be married.’
‘But didn’t they realise the risk they were taking?’
Sadly Bastian shook his head. ‘I do not think that anybody believed Alba capable of actual murder,’ he said. ‘She has deteriorated far further into her own private world than any of us suspected.’
‘So, believing this poor Felix to be Jerome, she followed him to the cottage, and-’
‘The cottage was Meriel and Jerome’s trysting place,’ Bastian said.
‘Yes. I see. So she followed Felix there, and presumably believed he was waiting for Meriel. Then-’
‘Alba knew Meriel wouldn’t disturb them.’ Once more, he interrupted. ‘She’d seen Meriel and Berthe set out. Although Alba didn’t know it, they were on their way to meet Jerome, for Meriel to marry him.’
Helewise was picturing the deserted cottage. In her mind’s eye, a young man sat there, alone. Perhaps he was smiling, both at the sheer fun of fooling Alba and because, through his suggestion, he was giving his great friend this precious time to be united with his Meriel.
Then through the underbrush came Alba, some heavy weapon in her hands. . she swung it up high, then brought it crashing down on Felix’s unsuspecting head. And, while he was out cold, she manoeuvred the body until she could tether the hands to that hard, firm stake.
And then. .
No. It was too dreadful to contemplate.
Pushing her fists against her eyes to blot out the images of flame and smoke, Helewise gave a low moan.
From across the room, Bastian spoke.
‘I regret that I have had to burden you with this terrible tale.’ There was deep compassion in his voice. ‘But it was, as I am sure you appreciate, necessary.’ He paused. ‘Necessary,’ he went on quietly, ‘in order that you understand what a danger Alba is. To her sisters, and even more to those who threaten her by taking her sisters from her.’
She thought he had finished. She lifted up her head and looked at him. Meeting her eyes, he gave a brief, almost apologetic glance. ‘Felix was very special to me,’ he said quietly. ‘As is Jerome. Felix was born to my late sister, and Jerome is the son of my younger brother, who died when Jerome was a child.’ For a split second, she saw a flash of fury in his face, but he controlled it.
Then he said neutrally, ‘Alba has murdered one of my nephews. I do not intend to let her have the other.’
PART THREE
Chapter Nineteen
The Abbess arrived to see Josse very early the next morning. He was up and dressed, and perched on a bench pulled up at the foot of his bed. Moving along to make room, he beckoned for her to sit down beside him.
He could see immediately that she was deeply troubled; instinctively he put out his hand to her, and she grasped it, giving it a brief and intense squeeze before letting go.
She said, ‘Josse, I don’t know what to do. Meriel and Jerome have vanished — they have abandoned their camp and disappeared without trace. And there is a pilgrim in the Vale who says he has proof that Alba murdered the man we found in the burnt-out cottage. There was a witness. A child.’
Oh, Lord, he thought. Faced with the two calamities, his first thought was to attempt to quieten her very obvious anxiety over Meriel. ‘Do not worry too much for the girl,’ he said. ‘For Meriel, I mean. Abbess, I was very impressed with young Jerome. Truly, I do not believe he would do anything to risk her safety. She is quite clearly far too precious to him for him to do that.’
‘Do you think so?’ Her face was a picture. She looked, Josse thought, as if the very thing she most wanted was to believe him, but she wasn’t quite sure she could let herself.
‘I do,’ he said firmly. ‘He had made a comfortable, well-concealed camp for her, hadn’t he? And when you and I burst in on them, he was all set to defend her with his sword, mother-naked though he was.’
He was relieved to see a swift smile cross her face. ‘Not quite naked,’ she murmured.
‘No,’ he agreed.
‘But by now they may be deep in the Great Forest!’ she said with renewed alarm. ‘And you and I, Sir Josse, know full well what they may find there! Or, rather, what may find them. Oh, and it’s all my fault, because if I hadn’t told them I was about to free Alba, they would still be safe and snug in the charcoal burners’ camp!’
Worried at seeing her usual calm desert her, he said swiftly, ‘Helewise, whatever happens is not your fault! We are all responsible for our own actions. You, as Abbess of Hawkenlye, have every right to decide to send Alba away, whatever the consequences!’