Ravenser winced. ‘There was a stir. And the cook believes she has been cured of a rash.’
‘Deus juva me.’
‘But the Reverend Mother has everything under control.’
‘I dare say. Just as she has a tight rein on all of her charges.’
Now Thoresby must speak with the annoying woman herself.
Dame Isobel entered his chambers much subdued. Shadows underlined her pale eyes. ‘Benedicte, Your Grace.’ She handed Thoresby a letter bearing the anchor seal of St Clement’s. ‘Joanna has signed this, Your Grace. She recants her sins and submits to her penance.’
Thoresby made the sign of the cross over Isobel and motioned her to be seated. ‘I understand you have identified the woman as Joanna Calverley of Leeds.’ He tapped the letter against his left palm.
‘I have, Your Grace.’ Isobel did not meet Thoresby’s eyes, but focused on his hands and the letter.
Thoresby noticed, and put down the document. No need to look discomfited. ‘And you are satisfied that she returned and signed this willingly?’
‘Joanna was most anxious to return, Your Grace.’
‘And when she signed it, was she Our Lady risen from the dead or Joanna Calverley?’
Isobel’s pale eyebrows dipped in a puzzled frown. ‘She has not claimed to be the Blessed Virgin, Your Grace, just a virgin.’
‘And is that true?’
Dame Isobel blushed. ‘I think not, Your Grace. She has said things to Dame Prudentia that suggest. . a loss of innocence.’
‘And God chose to bring this lying Magdalene back from the dead?’
‘Your Grace, there is no logic to her delusion.’
‘Ah. So you agree she is deluded?’
Isobel looked surprised. ‘Of course.’
‘But she was lucid enough to write this letter and understand what it contained?’
Isobel blinked rapidly. ‘I wrote the letter, Your Grace. But she was fully aware of its contents and signed it of her own accord, as God is my witness.’
‘Indeed.’ Thoresby opened the letter, skimmed it. ‘Fully aware, you say?’
Isobel took a kerchief from her sleeve and blotted her upper lip. ‘I think she has moments of clarity.’
Thoresby tossed the letter aside and folded his hands. ‘Can she explain her behaviour?’
Isobel tucked her hands under her scapular. ‘So far she has said little that might be of use, but I shall ask again.’
‘Indeed you shall. And I trust you will not disappoint me.’
The prioress blushed, but she did not drop her head meekly. ‘I shall not, Your Grace.’
Thoresby liked the way her jaw stuck out with determination. ‘How has Joanna been received at St Clement’s?’
Isobel sighed. ‘She has disturbed the peace of our house.’
No doubt. Gossip was ever the bane of a closed community. ‘Her behaviour is disturbing?’
‘Only those caring for her witness her confusion, Your Grace.’
‘She plays the tragic heroine. She will tire of it.’
‘But the mantle, Your Grace — ’ Isobel stretched a hand toward him, imploring. ‘The rumour of it has spread through St Clement’s. And Dame Margaret’s rash. .’
‘Sir Richard said you had put a stop to that.’
Isobel withdrew her hand. ‘He was kind to say so. I have done my best, but once a rumour such as that begins — ’ she looked pained. ‘It is plain that something happened to Joanna, else why would she return after making such an effort to disappear for ever? So the sisters take Our Lady’s intervention as an explanation. The only one that has been offered.’
But not the only explanation the sisters had considered among themselves, Thoresby was sure. ‘Sir Richard de Ravenser has a theory that she went off to have a child. Is there any sign of that?’
Isobel’s pale face coloured slightly. ‘Not that we can tell, Your Grace.’
‘Has she spoken of a lover?’
‘Except for the comments to Dame Prudentia, no. At least — not a living one.’
‘What do you mean?’
The prioress looked uncomfortable. Her eyes met Thoresby’s, then moved away, focusing on the floor. ‘Joanna speaks of dreams in which her one love comes to her. She said it was these dreams that led her to run away, but now she knows they were sent by the Devil.’
‘One love?’
‘I believe Joanna had a vision and did not understand.’ Isobel held up her hand to stop the archbishop’s impatient interruption. ‘Have you read any of the mystics, Your Grace? They write of their love of God in terms of human love. It can confuse an inexperienced child like Joanna.’
‘Inexperienced?’
Isobel’s stubborn chin jutted out even farther. ‘I stand firm in my belief that she left St Clement’s an innocent, Your Grace. And there is yet something else — something that frightens her. She was given the last rites in Beverley. She fears that in God’s eyes she is dead. She wishes to profess her vows once more.’
‘You believe these ideas are connected?’
‘I believe they reveal a soul in turmoil and confusion, Your Grace. I think that Joanna went out to seek the lover in her dreams and found an ordinary man.’
‘So you do believe a man was involved?’
Isobel shrugged. ‘It seems likely. In fact, a man has lurked about St Clement’s since she arrived.’
A fact. Thoresby was pleased to hear a fact at last. ‘Horsemen followed Dame Joanna’s company from Beverley, as you have no doubt heard. Do you feel threatened by this watcher?’
Isobel spread her hands. ‘How can I know?’
‘Do you recognise him? Might he have visited Dame Joanna at St Clement’s?’
‘She had no visitors, Your Grace.’
Thoresby raised an eyebrow. ‘None? In six years? At least her family, surely.’
The prioress looked down at her hands, dropped them at her sides. ‘No one, not even her family.’ A new note had crept into Isobel’s voice. She chose her words with uneasy care.
Thoresby suspected they were now close to the nub of the problem. ‘Her family. Yes. Last time we spoke about this I sent you off to discover whether her family wanted to remove her body to Leeds. What was the outcome of that interview?’
Isobel once more tucked her hands beneath her scapular. Thoresby wondered whether she thought that hid her uneasiness. ‘They wished to have nothing more to do with her, Your Grace.’
‘Because she had broken her vows?’
Isobel, head bowed, said nothing.
‘Whatever you are not saying, it will come out, do not doubt it, Dame Isobel. And it will be far better for you if I have heard it from your lips. I have ordered Richard de Ravenser to find out all there is to know about the friends who assisted Joanna in her escape and deceit. And one of my men will talk to her family. So you might as well speak now.’
A tense silence ensued. Silence did not bother Thoresby. He was content to let it lengthen until his visitor could bear it no longer. Indeed, it was to her credit how long Isobel held on to it. But at last she sighed and raised her eyes to his.
‘I did not go to her family. When she entered St Clement’s we agreed that she was dead to her family from that day.’
‘It is a symbolic death.’
Isobel shook her head. ‘It was a condition of payment, Your Grace.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘They paid handsomely?’
‘I was not then prioress.’
‘But the Council of Oxford forbade this.’
‘St Clement’s is poor, Your Grace, and Joanna’s family were keen to be rid of her.’
‘Did they explain why?’
‘Her mother said she was impossible to rule.’
‘As Benedictines you take a vow of poverty.’
Isobel bristled. ‘The money did not make our lives soft. It patched the roof and kept us warm in winter.’
‘Still, it is simony.’ Thoresby stood, clasped his hands behind him and, frowning, turned from her. ‘I am increasingly uneasy about the state of St Clement’s, Dame Isobel. I depend on you to watch over the sisters and rule them wisely. You have failed me.’ He stayed there a moment, letting her study his back, then spun round with a stern frown. ‘If you fail me again I must think what to do.’