"Since when is it a crime to visit a lazar house? As for your serjeant, he followed me all the way from the abbey into town, even into a dark alley. I thought he meant to rob me. What reasonable man would not?"
Luke did not appear impressed with Justin's explanation. "We can discuss what is reasonable and what is not," he said ominously, "back at the castle."
Dropping his hand to the hilt of his sword, the deputy gestured for Justin to surrender his own weapons. He was not about do so, however. Who was to say what might befall him once he disappeared behind the castle walls with Luke de Marston? The tavern was utterly still, all eyes riveted upon the deputy, his serjeant, and the man they meant to arrest. Justin knew he could expect no help from any of the bystanders. He'd have to take on Luke and the serjeant both, not odds he fancied. The serjeant had a grievance to settle and Luke had the look of a born swordsman.
"Ere you do something you'll regret," he said tautly, "you'd best take a look at this."
"What?" Luke watched suspiciously as Justin drew a letter from his tunic and ordered his serjeant to be on the alert before he reached for it. Justin had a sudden, disturbing thought: what if the deputy could not read? He soon saw that this fear was unfounded. Luke gave him a hard, hostile stare, then picked up a candle from a nearby table and began to scan the parchment.
When he was done, Luke regarded Justin with open astonishment. "Well, well," he drawled, "you are full of surprises!"
Turning, he told his serjeant to "Get yourself some wine," ignoring the man's dumbfounded bewilderment. Directing the wide-eyed serving maid to "Fetch us a flagon, sweetheart," he shoved a bench toward Justin's table and settled himself comfortably. Once Justin had done the same, Luke glanced around the tavern, warning the patrons that "The entertainment is over, so cease your gaping and go back to drinking yourselves sodden." Most did, or at least pretended to; Justin noticed that the looks they got after that were surreptitious.
Sliding the queen's letter across the table toward Justin, Luke waited until the serving maid brought them a flagon and two cups and withdrew out of earshot with obvious reluctance. "I suppose there is no point in asking why the Queen of England should be taking such an interest in the murder of a Winchester goldsmith. You're not about to tell me that, are you? But why investigate on your own? Why did you not come to me straightaway?"
Justin said nothing, trying to decide if Luke was in earnest. Now that he was no longer fuming, his appearance had altered almost as dramatically as his demeanor. He was younger than Justin had initially thought, in his mid- to late twenties, with penetrating grass green eyes, thick, tawny hair, and sharply defined features that gave him the look of a hungry, golden hawk, handsome and predatory. Those unsettling hunter's eyes were fastened intently on Justin's face, questioning at first and then comprehending. "I see," he said evenly. "You think I had a hand in the goldsmith's death?"
"You must admit," Justin said, no less coolly, "that you have a most tempting motive for murder."
Luke regarded Justin impassively, then grinned unexpectedly. "Aldith is that, in truth. You've seen her, so I'll not dispute it. Nor will I claim that I shed any tears for Gervase Fitz Randolph. I did not mourn the man. But I did not murder him, either."
"I will pass your assurances on to the queen," Justin said, with lethal courtesy. He knew full well that this mention of Eleanor was a low blow, but he had the advantage for the moment and meant to make the most of it.
An angry shadow chased across Luke's face, but he showed now that he could rein in his temper when need be. "If not for that letter," he said bluntly, "I'd tell you to stuff your suspicions up your arse. But you are the queen's man and we both know that changes everything. So I'll tell you about Aldith and me. I love the woman. I've been besotted with her since the first day we met. Did I want to share her with Fitz Randolph? Of course I did not. Was I jealous? You know damned well that I was. Did I kill him? No, I did not. Even if I'd been sorely crazed enough to consider murder — and I was not — there was no need. Aldith chose me, not the goldsmith."
Justin did not trouble to hide his skepticism. "It is easy enough to say that now."
Luke smiled thinly. "Because Fitz Randolph is dead and Aldith a suspect witness in your eyes? It is true, nonetheless. You see, I was willing to offer her what the goldsmith could not — marriage."
Justin was taken aback. "You would have married her?"
Luke's head came up sharply. "I will marry her," he said, "as soon as we can post the banns." He sounded not so much defensive as defiant, and it was that which convinced Justin he was speaking the truth — at least about wanting to wed Aldith. Luke was gentry. Without knowing anything else about him, Justin did know that much, for only the wellborn were candidates for positions of authority. Aldith was no fit wife for a man with ambitions. Marrying her would not advance Luke's prospects; on the contrary. And for the first time, Justin's distrust of the deputy was tempered by a more positive emotion: a flicker of respect. Still, though, he had to ask. "If you were to wed, why was she still with Gervase?"
"For you to understand, you have to know about Aldith. Her life has not been easy. Her father was a potter at Michelmersh. That is a poor trade at best, and he was poorer than most, with few customers and too many mouths to feed. When Aldith was fifteen, her family married her off to a Winchester baker. The man was nigh on forty years older than she, tightfisted and sour tempered and poorly after their first year, when he was stricken by apoplexy. She was left a widow at twenty, with barely enough to bury him. It was then that she took up with Fitz Randolph."
Luke paused to drain his wine cup. "He was good to her, de Quincy. I do not like saying it, but it happens to be true. He was generous by nature, willing to help out her family. As for Aldith herself… well, he saw that she wanted for nothing. And she was grateful. She told me once that the one memory which stays green over the years is of going to bed hungry."
"So you are saying that after all he'd done for her, she was loath to hurt him?"
"Yes… that is exactly what I am saying." Luke's eyes met Justin's, challengingly, as if daring him to scoff. But it seemed plausible to Justin and he merely nodded. Somewhat mollified, Luke signaled for more wine before continuing. "She got me to promise that she could tell him in her own time and her own way. Aldith has ever been one for putting off unpleasantness, so I daresay she'd have delayed as long as she could. But she'd have told him. I'd have seen to that."
Justin didn't doubt it. If Aldith had been his woman, he'd have seen to that, too. "I've another question for you," he said, implicitly acknowledging by the change of subject that he believed Luke's account, an admission not lost upon Luke. "How did you know that I was in this tavern?"
Luke's smile was complacent. "My serjeant is not as inept as you think. True, his attempt to follow you was not a rousing success. I gather he could not have been more conspicuous if he'd worn a sack over his head. But he does have a few grains of common sense. Also, he knew I'd skin him alive if he reported that he'd lost you. After that friendly little joust in the alley, Wat was in dire need of an ale, or two or three. It occurred to him that you might have the same urgent thirst, so he crept back up the alley and peered into the tavern to see if he was right. Lucky for you he was no cutthroat or hired assassin."
"Yes, lucky," Justin said tersely, more annoyed with his own carelessness than with Luke's gibe. He still had a lot to learn about self-preservation.
"Do you want to tell me why you think the ambush was not a robbery gone wrong? Or do I have to guess?"
Justin felt a flash of irritation, but Luke's sarcasm notwithstanding, he had a right to know. "I have reason to believe that it was no random robbery. The outlaws were lying in wait for Fitz Randolph." And as concisely as possible, he told Luke why he was sure that was so.