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‘Mary Magdalene is the patron saint of repentant sinners,’ Joanna said.

‘Indeed she is, Dame Joanna. May St Mary watch over you.’

Joanna gripped his hand ever tighter, her eyes pleading. ‘I wish to confess to you, Brother Wulfstan.’

‘My child, I am but the infirmarian. Let me send for Abbot Campian.’

‘No! I cannot. I do not know him. You have been kind to me.’

‘He, too, is kind. And a just man, Dame Joanna. I fear — ’

She shook her head adamantly. ‘You must shrive me.’

Blessed Mary and all the saints, how did she come to choose him? ‘Why now, child? Why have you left it so late?’

‘I cannot rest, Father. Now that I know my error. I cannot rest.’

Brother Wulfstan turned to the Reverend Mother for assistance, but she waved him on from her seat near the door. ‘If it will bring her peaceful, healing sleep, Brother Wulfstan. .’

‘God bless you for coming this night, Father,’ Joanna said, releasing his hand and making the sign of the cross. She folded her hands.

The elderly monk, unwilling confessor, sat down beside her, blessing her.

Joanna’s expression was that of an innocent child, hoping to escape punishment with a promise to behave. ‘If I confess, and if I am truly repentant, might I save myself from damnation?’

Wulfstan did not like the sound of that. ‘What is the error of which you speak?’

‘I trusted in the Evil One. I did not know. Not until I heard how Will Longford died. I meant to take it to the grave with me. But if by speaking I may save myself from the eternal flames. .’ Joanna pressed her hands to her mouth and began to weep.

Wulfstan turned again to Isobel, but she sat with her head bowed, praying. The flame of her oil lamp flickered in the breeze coming from the door, slightly ajar.

Outside the room, Wulfstan’s shadow crouched, as close to the door as he dared stay.

Brother Wulfstan sighed, bowed his head, and prayed that God might help him through this. When he was finished, he blotted Joanna’s forehead with a scented cloth. ‘I shall hear your confession, Joanna. Tell me of this sin that terrifies you.’

Joanna closed her eyes. ‘I have lived as the Magdalene.’

Wulfstan lowered his eyes from the earnest, tear-streaked face.

‘I gave myself to Stefan because he was beautiful and kind. He lifted me from the grave. He took me to Scarborough. He promised to find my brother Hugh. I loved Stefan. Until he lied to me. And for that I — ’ Joanna shook her head. ‘No. Not for that.’

Wulfstan hoped that might be the extent of the confession. He raised his hand above Joanna’s head. ‘For your sins of the flesh, I absolve thee in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.’

Joanna grabbed Wulfstan’s upraised hand. ‘No! That is the least of it. You must hear it all.’

Wulfstan gently retrieved his hand, tucked it up his sleeve, bowed his head. ‘Continue, my child.’

‘He seemed to me everything best in God’s creation. Strong, brave, fair, free. I did not understand that he was evil. Even after he returned and told me he had buried Will Longford alive.’ Wulfstan raised his head sharply, amazed at what he heard. Joanna met his astonished eyes. She nodded. ‘Oh yes. He and his two men. Because I told him how frightened I had been in the grave. I woke. I woke and knew where I was. It was but a moment, but so horrible. No air. No light. My limbs were bound in the shroud to keep me rigid, like a corpse. Stefan said they lowered me in and the gravedigger shovelled some dirt over me before Jaro distracted him. But Stefan did not know I had awakened to feel the earth raining.’

Wulfstan frowned. ‘Yet Stefan waited so long to avenge you?’

Joanna shook her head impatiently. ‘Not Stefan. Hugh.’

‘You told Hugh.’

‘But I did not tell him that Longford could not have known I would awaken.’ Joanna clutched Wulfstan’s arm. ‘Would he have been so cruel had he known?’

‘Your sin was telling your brother and making Longford seem more guilty than he was?’ Wulfstan could feel the iciness of her hand through the cloth of his habit.

‘My sin was far worse. While Hugh was gone. . Oh, sweet Heaven, if he had only told me.’ Joanna closed her eyes on tears that rolled down her face, withdrew her hand to wipe her eyes. ‘I thought Hugh had deserted me again, as he had the first time we went to Beverley. We were to go on a great adventure. But all at once I was sent off to my aunt’s house.’

Brother Wulfstan fidgeted on the chair. Where was the sin in this?

‘While Hugh was away, I told Stefan I had seen my brother in Scarborough. So Stefan followed me when Hugh returned.’

Wulfstan shook his head. ‘I do not understand. I thought Stefan had taken you to Scarborough to find your brother.’

‘No.’ Joanna spoke impatiently, as if she thought she had already told him this. ‘Stefan warned me against seeing Hugh. He said that he and Hugh were sworn enemies.’

Despite himself, Wulfstan was being drawn into the story. ‘But he had promised to find your brother for you.’

‘He lied.’

Wulfstan closed his eyes, took a deep breath. ‘Go on.’

‘Stefan followed me to Hugh’s house and killed him.’

Dear Lord, no wonder the child seemed mad. ‘Because Hugh murdered Will Longford?’

Joanna bit her lip. ‘That must be why.’ It was the frown of uncertainty.

Wulfstan hoped this was the last of it, though wherein was her sin? ‘And then you ran away?’

Joanna nodded. ‘We ran. Stefan and I. And then — ’ She turned away and was silent.

Wulfstan waited.

In a tiny voice, almost inaudible to Wulfstan, Joanna cried, ‘I could not let him live.’

The sorrow in those words made Wulfstan cross himself. He knew what was coming. He knew now the sin. But she must say it. He could not say it for her. ‘What do you mean, Joanna?’

She turned back to him, her eyes frightening in their pain. ‘I led him to his death.’ She reached out for Wulfstan. ‘Help me! Help me ask Him for forgiveness. I did not know. I did not see what Hugh had done. How horrible it was. And Edmund says that Stefan did love me. He did love me.’ She broke down, weeping hysterically.

‘Joanna. Before I may absolve you, you must confess your sin. What do you mean you led him to his death?’

But Joanna was too hysterical. She would say no more. Wulfstan added a few drops of milk of poppy to the valerian tisane, coaxed Joanna to drink. He did not leave her side until she slept quietly.

Twenty-two

The Scabbard

‘I led him to his death.’ The words pounded in Edmund’s head as he ran from the guest house. At the bottom of the steps he paused, uncertain which way to go. He had no idea what he meant to do. He cursed the day Longford introduced Stefan to Joanna Calverley.

But what of Stefan? Why had he murdered Hugh Calverley? Hugh was trouble, and Stefan was a seasoned killer, as were all Sebastian’s men, but Stefan had not been ordered to murder Hugh and had no cause to do it on his own — someone else was bound to have done it soon enough. And Joanna had adored her brother. How must she feel about his murder at the hands of her lover? She had said she led Stefan to his death. That he was adrift on the sea. Because Stefan had killed Hugh?

Edmund hated Joanna.

And he pitied her.

Looking round as the sky silvered with dawn, Edmund saw that he had wandered to the west front of the abbey church. Glad of a decision made, however absent-mindedly, Edmund pulled open the door and went in. In the quiet peace he sank down on his knees before a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary and wept for Stefan.

Isobel rose as Wulfstan approached the door. ‘God bless you, Brother Wulfstan. I shall watch Joanna now.’

Wulfstan made the sign of the cross over her and was about to leave, then paused, rocking back and forth on his sandalled feet while he thought. ‘You heard all that Joanna said to me?’ Their eyes met. Wulfstan saw the pain in the Reverend Mother’s face as she crossed herself. She had heard.