‘I am more than content with my life,’ I interrupted hastily. ‘And I have a little daughter at home, in Bristol.’
She drew down the corners of her thin, painted mouth in mock despair. ‘You’re married! And faithful to your wife! Alas! The best men always are.’
I did not enlighten her and she continued, ‘You asked me about Rosamund and Eudo Colet. Very well. I see no reason, now that she’s dead, and you, as you say, know so much, why I should not tell you the truth. Indeed, there’s little to tell, I should imagine, that you haven’t understood for yourself already. It was St Bartholomewtide and Rosamund and I visited the fair. Our maids were with us, of course. We were not unchaperoned. Eudo was there, performing with a troupe of mummers and singers, and for some reason, he immediately caught her eye. She was bewitched by him from the very first moment that she saw him. Don’t ask me why.’ Ginèvre spread her hands, a stray shaft of sunlight catching her rings and making them glitter. ‘These things happen, I know, although I have never experienced such a coup de foudre myself’
‘Did you ever know the names of any of the others in the mummers’ troupe?’ I asked her.
My hostess looked affronted. ‘No, nor did I wish to. I was only acquainted with Eudo Colet because of Rosamund’s foolish infatuation and her determination to marry him. Folly! She could have taken him as her lover, enjoyed his body and then paid him to go away. These things are better arranged so.’
I had no doubt that they were, and I suspected that she knew from experience just how it was done. She caught my eye and smiled.
‘You disapprove, chapman. I can see it in your face. But when there is too little to do, servants to run one’s every bidding and pander to one’s every whim, a woman grows bored. A handsome man is a pleasant diversion.’ She crowed with laughter. ‘And now I’ve truly shocked you.’
I murmured a protest, but without much conviction, and asked, ‘But in this instance, Lady Skelton was determined on marriage?’
‘I’ve said so. And so, of course, was he, once he saw which way the wind was blowing. Not that I blame him, you understand. What man with any sense would not exchange poverty for riches, a wandering, tumbling, mummer’s life for a roof above his head and a soft bed with a pretty woman in it? I tried to dissuade her from such a course, and so did Gregory, but to no avail. Her mind was set on making Eudo her husband. She had married to please her father the first time, she said, and now she would marry to please herself. There was no one to prevent her. She argued that Eudo provided her with everything she had ever wanted in a man, everything that she had looked for in Sir Henry Skelton – and been disappointed!’ Ginèvre smiled lasciviously, the eyes momentarily veiled before being opened wide. ‘They spent most of their time in bed. The house reeked of the farmyard.’
I was beginning to dislike Ginèvre Napier: she made me uncomfortable. Under the guise of moral outrage, her thoughts and desires were salacious.
‘And you and Master Napier were the only people who knew of Eudo Colet’s origins. What of Lady Skelton’s maid?’
‘Rosamund rid herself of the girl. She found her a place with a noble family whose home was in the north, well away from any probing tongues. Which was just as well, for a month or so after Rosamund returned to Devon, two men arrived at our door, asking questions. It turned out that they had been sent by Sir Jasper’s partner.’
I nodded. ‘Master Thomas Cozin, a highly respected burgher of Totnes. And you and your husband told them nothing?’ But I already knew the answer.
Ginèvre’s thin lips curled in a sneer. ‘Why should we? What business was it of anyone but Rosamund herself? And Gregory is not the man to allow himself to be interrogated by servants. If this Thomas Cozin wanted the truth, he should have come to London himself, not sent menials to do his work for him.’
‘And what of Eudo Colet’s fellow mummers? Did they have no idea of his good fortune?’
‘Of course not!’ Ginèvre was scathing. ‘Eudo wasn’t such a fool as to tell any one of them. What! Lay himself open to some chance meeting in the future? To have it revealed that he was nothing but a poor jongleur? To be claimed as friend by a parcel of vagabonds, when he had risen so high in the world? You must be mad even to ask such a question! He crept away in the middle of the night and came here, to Rosamund. They never knew what had happened to him nor where he had gone. As far as they were concerned, he had simply vanished.’
‘And you sheltered him? Willingly?’
Ginèvre Napier’s eyes snapped with sudden anger. She sat forward in her chair.
‘I’m growing tired of these questions, chapman! Consider yourself lucky that I have not asked you to leave, or had you thrown out before this.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, rising quickly, and realizing that once again, as so often in the past, I had overstepped the bounds of familiarity in my insatiable eagerness to get at the truth.
‘I’ll go.’ And I began to refill my pack.
Breathing heavily, Mistress Napier sank back in her chair, the anger dying out of her face.
‘No, no!’ she exclaimed irritably. ‘Sit down.’ She began to bite on another of her fingernails. After a few moments, she asked, ‘You truly think Eudo Colet guilty of the murder of Rosamund’s two children? What of these outlaws who are preying on the countryside around Totnes? You told me most people believe them to be the murderers. Why don’t you?’
I resumed my seat at the table, trying to assume a more respectful expression.
‘I believe they may have been the killers, if we are talking of wielding the knife. But I think it more than likely that Master Colet could have been in league with the wolf-heads, and paid them to do the deed.’
Ginèvre raised one eyebrow, or what there was left of it after the razor had taken its toll.
‘But you told me that Eudo was out of the house when the children disappeared, and did not return until after they had vanished. So what do you accuse him of? Witchcraft?’
I drew a deep breath. ‘There are those who, until recently, thought him capable of that.’
‘And you?’ The lips curled into a contemptuous smile. ‘Do you think him in league with the Devil, able to perform the black arts?’ When I hesitated, she laughed, but I saw her, nevertheless, make a sign to ward off evil.
I said defiantly, ‘I am convinced that he had a hand in those children’s deaths. I confess to having no idea how he got them out of the house during his absence, but I believe him to be a very wicked man. I believe him to be the murderer of two mummers who arrived in Totnes last week. Their throats were cut as they lay asleep in their wagon.’
‘Mummers?’ I had her attention now, her eyes wide with painful anxiety. ‘You mentioned nothing of this before.’
‘No. I wished to assure myself first that I was right in my assumptions about Master Colet. I had already learned that he could sing and play the flute, information which only had significance for me after the death of these two mummers. Furthermore, I recollected Grizelda telling me that Lady Skelton had visited you around St Bartholomewtide. It seemed possible to me then that she had met her husband at the fair. That he was in fact himself a jongleur. For all those who knew him, swore he was of peasant stock.’
Ginèvre gave a crow of delight. ‘Of course they did! I told the pair of them that fine clothes and a scented beard wouldn’t fool people into thinking that Eudo Colet was a gentleman. That everyone was bound to recognize him for what he really was. But Rosamund was so besotted with him, and he was so set up in his own conceit, that they refused to believe me or heed my words. “Give me a month or so to teach him how to behave,” she said, “and no one will know he’s not as well born as you and me.” The fool! Did she truly think she could make gold from dross? That no one would know the difference?’ She looked at me with a new respect. ‘And you were able, from these slender facts, to draw so accurate a conclusion?’