~~
Justin approached the Fitz Randolph house with reluctance. Unlike her children, the goldsmith's widow had not attended the Fleming's trial. While he cared nothing for the younger Fitz Randolphs' goodwill, he was not as indifferent to Ella's opinion. She was the only one of the bereaved family whom he'd found sympathetic, and he wanted her to think well of him. But if she did blame him as her children did, he was about to find out.
He was admitted by Edith, the serving maid, and escorted into the hall. Ella did not keep him waiting long. "Master de Quincy, this is a surprise." Ordering Edith to fetch wine, she led Justin over to the hearth. They'd barely seated themselves when the door banged and Jonet hastened into the hall.
She'd evidently been forewarned of Justin's presence, for she showed no surprise, only antagonism. "I cannot believe you have the gall to come calling upon us after the way you slandered our family! You are not welcome here."
"That is not for you to say, Jonet."
"Mother! This man saw us as suspects in Papa's murder!"
"I know that, Jonet. I also know that if not for him, your father's killers would never have been brought to justice."
"That does not excuse — "
"Yes," Ella said firmly, "it does. Nurse a grudge if you will. But I'll not have you be rude to a guest in this house — my house. Is that clear?"
Justin could not help noticing that Jonet was not as pretty when she was angry. Her fair skin splotched with hot color, her eyes slitted, she glared at her mother. But she was the one who backed down, flouncing off in a huff.
Justin found this exchange very interesting. It seemed that Ella was spreading her wings, asserting her authority as the family matriarch. A more satisfying role, for certes, than that of a wronged wife or a grieving widow.
"I apologize for my daughter's bad manners. I am glad that you've come, Master de Quincy, for I've wanted to thank you again for all you did on my husband's behalf."
"I wish I could have saved him, Mistress Fitz Randolph."
"I wish you could have, too," she said quietly. "He had his flaws, as do all men. But he was good hearted and generous and he did not deserve to die by an outlaw's hand. It pains me to say this, but his death seems to have grieved no one but me. For the others, it was almost… convenient."
"Surely that is not so," Justin protested politely, but without much conviction, for that same thought had occurred to him, too.
"I fear that it is. If Gervase were still alive, Thomas would not be Hyde Abbey's newest novice. For certes, Jonet and Miles would not be plight-trothed. Even that wanton woman has benefited from Gervase's death if the gossip is true. Is it? Does Luke de Marston really mean to wed her?" When he nodded, she grimaced. "Men are such fools!"
Justin felt confident that Aldith would understand if he did not try to defend her to her former lover's widow; she was too fair minded to deny that the older woman bore her a genuine grievance. "I have something for you," he said, taking out a sealed parchment. "The Queen's Grace asked me to deliver this to you."
"Why would the queen be writing to me?" she asked in wonderment. When he held the letter toward her, she did not take it. "Gervase insisted that Jonet be taught to read, but my father saw no such need in my girlhood. Will you read it to me?"
"Of course." Breaking the royal seal, he unrolled the parchment and shifted toward the closest light, a cresset lamp suspended from the ceiling by a braided rope.
"'Eleanor, Queen of England, Duchess of Normandy and Aquitaine, Countess of Poitou, to Ella, Mistress Fitz Randolph of Winchester, greetings. I wish to offer you my condolences upon the death of your husband. From all that I've heard of him, he was a good and brave man. I hope it may comfort you to know that he died in the service of the Crown.'"
When Justin glanced up, he saw that Ella was staring at him in bewilderment. "I… I do not understand. What does she mean?"
"You've heard that King Richard was captured by his enemies on his way home from the Holy Land?"
As he expected, Ella nodded, for Eleanor had finally made her son's plight public knowledge, after meeting with the Great Council at Oxford. "When your husband departed for London on Epiphany, he was bearing a letter for the queen, a confidential and urgent message entrusted to him by one who'd learned of the king s abduction. It is my belief that Gervase resisted his attackers so fiercely because he feared they were after the queen's letter."
"I see…" she breathed. "Then… then he truly did die in the queen's service?"
Gilbert the Fleming had not believed in leaving eyewitnesses to his crimes, and Gervase Fitz Randolph would likely have died whether he'd offered resistance or not. But Justin saw no need to tell that to his widow. "Yes, Mistress Fitz Randolph, he did."
Reaching over, he laid the letter in her lap. She touched the parchment gently, almost reverently, her eyes brimming with tears. He'd viewed the queen's message as a gamble, one that could have done as much harm as good. But he soon saw that Eleanor had guessed correctly, for when Ella looked up, her tear-streaked face was lit by a tremulous smile.
~~
The last time that Justin had looked upon Gervase Fitz Randolph's grave, it was covered with snow. The ground was still bare and brown, but it would not be long until Gervase slept under a blanket of lush, green grass. On this mild, sun-splashed Monday, the day after Easter, the scent of spring and renewal was in the air.
Kneeling by the grave, Aldith closed her eyes, her lips moving in a silent prayer. When she rose, brushing dirt from her skirt, she said, "I wish I could have brought him flowers or a funeral lamp. But that would only have caused his widow's wounds to bleed anew. He does have my prayers, though, and will as long as I have the breath to say them."
Justin joined her beside the grave. "Requiescat in pace, Gervase," he murmured, hoping that the slain goldsmith would indeed rest in peace, and then offered Aldith his arm as they moved away. "I need your advice, Aldith. I want to buy something for Nell, to thank her for taking care of my dog whilst I was gone."
"It will be my pleasure. But if you let me, I can do more. I'd like to help you patch up a lovers' quarrel." She felt his sudden tension, the muscles in his arm constricting under her hand, and she said hastily, "Wait, Justin, hear me out. Luke told me that your courtship of one of the queen s ladies had gone awry, and I would — "
"'One of the queen's ladies,'" Justin said incredulously. "How in hellfire did Luke learn that?"
"From Nell. They were drinking at the alehouse after the Fleming's capture, gossiping and joking how you'd evicted Luke for a mystery bedmate. They were all curious about her, of course, and someone suggested, half in jest, that Nell ought to invite you and the girl to come over and join the revelries, so they could get a look at her. Nell retorted, right sharplike, that 'She's too grand for the likes of us,' and once the others realized she knew something, they badgered her until she told them: that a 'very elegant lady' had visited you after you'd gotten stabbed, escorted by the queen's knight."
When Justin swore under his breath, Aldith gave his arm a sympathetic squeeze. "It ought not to surprise you so. People love to gossip, especially about bedsport. And you're always going to be talked about on that Gracechurch Street, what with rumors that you serve the queen."
They had stopped on the narrow pathway that wound among the graves, and she raised her hand to shield her eyes from the sun's glare, looking up earnestly into his face. "I do not pretend to know what happened between you or what went wrong. But I think you're still hurting. It might help to talk about it, to get a woman's view — "
"No!" he said, with a sharpness that he at once regretted. "I know you mean well, Aldith, but there is nothing you can do. It is over."