Walking slowly, he followed Simon to a trestle by the fire, and stood waiting for her to join them. Closer to her now, he could see that she had a smooth skin, tinted a warm dusky colour. As she sat he could not help but float his eyes over her figure, from the slender neck to the swelling of her breasts under her tunic, and on down to the narrowness of her waist and widening of her hips. He brought his eyes back to her face as quickly as he could, but he could see in her measuring gaze that she had noticed his inspection, although not apparently with displeasure. Her mouth twitched, as if she was close to smiling at him. But then her face turned inquiringly to Simon.
He began hesitantly, staring at his lap. “Madam, I am sorry to have arrived like this, it must be difficult for you. Your maid said that your husband is missing.”
“Yes,” she said, and sighed. “He left the house late last night, and when we awoke this morning, he was gone.”
“His horse…?” in the stables. That is what is so surprising…‘ Her voice trailed off as she frowned at the fire.
Baldwin said, “Has he ever disappeared like this before?”
“No. Never in the five years I have been married to him, never has he done this before.”
“Has anything happened recently to make him go?”
She hesitated a little, then flashed him a quick look, which he could not fathom. “No.”
Simon coughed and sighed. “It may be lucky that he has gone for now,” he said, shooting a nervous glance at Baldwin as if looking for confirmation that this was the right time to broach the subject. The knight gave a slight shrug of indifference. “Madam, we came here to speak to you, not your husband.”
“Me?” Her surprise appeared genuine. “But why?”
“Madam…‘ He broke off again, looking to Baldwin for support. ”This is very difficult…’
Baldwin smiled at her as he leaned forward, his eyes intense. “Mrs. Trevellyn. I am sorry to have to ask this, but we are investigating the murder of Agatha Kyteler.” He was sure that she started at the name. “And we must know what you were doing at her house on the day she died.”
“At her house?” She seemed to be considering whether to deny having been there, so to prevent her lying, Baldwin quickly interrupted.
“Yes, madam. You were seen at the lane going towards the old woman’s house, you were seen trying to hide. You are a little too distinctive to be able to hide from the people of the village.” She inclined her head to this, as if accepting it as a compliment and, to Baldwin’s annoyance, he was not sure that he had not intended it to be. “Your horse was seen there too. With Harold Greencliff.”
“Ah! It seems that you know I was there anyway.”
“Yes, madam. But we don’t yet know why. That is what we would like you to tell us now.”
She held his gaze, and there was defiance there. “I was there to buy a potion. I had felt ill for some days. I saw her on Saturday to ask for this potion, and she told me to return when she had been able to collect the right elements to make it. That was Tuesday.” ‘Why did you hide?“ asked Simon, his face frowning.
“Hide?”
“Yes. When people came along the lane, you hid in the trees. Why?”
It was as if she was fascinated by Baldwin. As she spoke she kept her magnificent green eyes on him, answering Simon’s quick interruptions with scarcely a sidelong glance. “What would you have done? There are any number of gossips in the village. I did not want people to know I was going there. After all, she was supposed to be a witch. I wanted not to be associated with her. She was useful, but I wanted to see her privately, not with the whole village watching.”
Simon looked at Baldwin and shrugged, and the knight grinned as he accepted the bailiffs defeat. He studied the beautiful face before him. Was she capable of murder? Even as he wondered, he saw her eyes seem to fill with liquid sadness, and she had to blink to clear them. But when she spoke her voice was strong and even. “It is no crime to keep such things private?”
Shrugging again, Baldwin sat back as she continued. “So, yes I hid, but only so that the village’s gossips would not see me. When they had passed, I went on to the house. I saw the old woman and took the potion, then I left…‘
“My pardon, madam,” said Baldwin. “But were you alone with her the whole time?”
“Yes.”
“And no one saw you enter the house?”
“No,” she said, her brows wrinkled with the effort of recollection. “No, I do not think so, though.”
“Yes?”
“I did have a feeling I was being watched – it felt like there was a man in the trees… But I saw no one.”
“Please continue.”
“As I say, I took the potion and left. I walked back to the horse and came home.”
“What time did you arrive home?”
“What time?” she appeared surprised by the question, “I do not know. After dark. Maybe half an hour after five?“
“And you were with Agatha Kyteler at about what hour?”
She shrugged indifferently. “Maybe four o’clock. I do not know.”
Frowning, Simon asked, “And you only collected the potion? So you could only have been there minutes…?”
“No,” she said equably, “I was there long enough to take the mixture – you know, to drink it. Then I left.”
“Was there anyone there when you did leave?” said Baldwin.
“I…‘ She hesitated.
“Yes?”
“I did not see anything, but I thought someone was there. It was just a feeling, you know? But I did think there was someone there in the trees still. I don’t know why. And Agatha seemed keen to be rid of me.”
“And that was all?”
“I think so, yes.”
“And then you went straight back to your horse?”
She looked at him. “Yes.”
“And Greencliff was there?”
“Yes. I had seen him earlier and asked him to mind my mare while I went to see Kyteler.”
Simon interrupted. “But you said you didn’t want the villagers to know you were there: that was why you hid in the trees on the way to her. Why didn’t you mind him?”
Looking at him, her mouth opened but no sound came for a moment. Then she turned back to Baldwin as if in silent appeal. “I know the boy. He is gossiped about as much as I am. He agreed to look after my horse. That is all.”
The knight nodded slowly. It would make sense, he thought. To his mind it was a great deal more likely than a high-born woman such as this having an adulterous affair with a lowly farmer.
“What about Grisel Oatway?” asked Simon. He felt he had an advantage somehow and he was determined to press it.
This time she did not even look at him. “I did not see her.” The tone of her voice carried finality.
Baldwin leaned forward again, and he was about to speak when the door in the screens flew open and a manservant ran in excitedly. “Mistress! Mistress! Come quickly! Oh, please come quickly!”
They all sprang to their feet and stared at the man as he halted before her, his boots and the bottom of his tunic and hose covered in dripping snow. “What is it?” she demanded, apparently angry at the interruption.
“Mistress – it’s the master – he’s dead!”
Simon gaped at him, and when he looked at Baldwin, he could see that the knight was as shocked as he. but then, as the bailiff glanced at the man’s widow, he stopped, his heart clutched in an icy grip. In her eyes there was no sadness. Glittering in the depths of the emerald pools was a cruel, vicious joy.
Chapter Fifteen
It was not there for long, and it was speedily covered by an expression of, if not grief, at least a degree of respectable regret. “Where?” she asked simply, and the man led them outside, Edgar silently bringing up the rear.