Baldwin appeared to notice nothing amiss. ‘Is Master Nicholas Lovecok here? We were told he was staying here with your master.’
‘No, sir,’ she said, and her voice was small and faraway. ‘He’s not here yet; usually he visits a tavern on his way back from the castle.’
‘What of your master? We should speak to him as well.’
There was a call from the hall, and Simon was sure he saw a hunted terror in the girl’s eye as she listened. Then, standing back a little, she let the two men enter.
Sir Peregrine was in the castle’s yard when Jeanne and her small entourage returned. He smiled and bowed, but unenthusiastically. Wherever he looked, he seemed to see women. His eyes followed Petronilla, who cooed with evident delight as she gathered up Stephen. Sir Peregrine felt a stab of jealousy. ‘Was the Fair to your liking, my Lady?’
Jeanne waved a hand at the overladen Edgar and Wat. ‘I think you can tell that for yourself, Sir Peregrine!’
Seeing Petronilla hurry back to save a bolt of cloth tipping from Wat’s arms into the dirt, Sir Peregrine gave a dry chuckle. ‘It looks as though your child is carrying as much as he can.’
‘Child?’ Wat demanded, glowering.
Quickly Jeanne moved in front of him to conceal his furious scowl. ‘Yes, I like to make the servants work for their keep, rather than letting them get slack so they have to be beaten.’ This last was spoken directly to Wat, but in a moment she was facing Sir Peregrine once more. ‘Have you seen my husband? Is the inquest over yet?’
‘We have not held the inquest as yet. Too many of the jury are involved in the Fair, and Harlewin thought it would be best to wait until the Fair is over. Your husband went out, I believe. Perhaps he went to seek you?’
‘If he did, he failed,’ Jeanne observed with a faintly caustic tone to her voice. She would have liked Baldwin to have joined her. It was many months since they had attended a fair together. Ah well, she thought, he never liked wandering around stalls. And maybe he’d gone to try to find her and had missed her in the crowds. It would have been all too easy to miss each other in the hectic crush.
‘No doubt he will soon return,’ she said, motioning to her servants to take the stuffs up to her room and watching them closely until they had disappeared through the door to the hall. She would persuade Baldwin to join her at the Fair tomorrow.
‘I have no doubt,’ Sir Peregrine said.
‘Then good day for now. I shall see you at the meal,’ Jeanne said and walked off to follow after the others. At the top of the stairs she happened to glance back. Sir Peregrine was still standing in the yard, looking sad and pensive, and Jeanne felt a burst of sympathy for him. She had lost a husband, but her man had been a bully and it was a source of delight to her that God had seen fit to permit her to marry Baldwin. But Sir Peregrine had found his ideal mate and lost her in childbirth. That was an ironic twist of fate.
As she watched she saw Toker enter the gateway, nod to the porter, and go up to Sir Peregrine, looking about him all the while. He noticed Jeanne and gave her a sneering nod. She walked indoors with a feeling of disquiet. There was something cruel and unpleasant in Toker’s face.
Later she would remember that moment.
Andrew did not rise – he saw no need to. These two weren’t officials in this town and had no authority to investigate any matters. Waving to a couple of chairs, he took a gulp of wine and belched.
‘We were hoping to find your brother-in-law,’ Baldwin said, sitting.
‘He’s not here. What did you want to see him about?’
‘Perhaps we should save that until we have a chance to speak to him.’
‘But while we’re here,’ Simon said, ‘we have a few questions for you about the death of the felon.’
‘Dyne? The bastard was lucky!’ Andrew said, eyeing Simon with distaste and gesturing again to an empty seat. Simon ignored his invitation and remained standing, arms folded.
Baldwin sniffed. ‘He was severely beaten and executed – and so was another man last night.’
‘Another?’ Andrew looked at him with surprise. ‘Who?’
‘William, Sir Gilbert’s servant. It seems most strange that the knight’s own servant, a man who could have seen something on the night that Sir Gilbert died, should now himself be dead.’
‘A coincidence, surely. Where did he die?’
‘We found his body in the river. But the question has to be, did he see something incriminating on the night of Sir Gilbert’s murder, or was he killed for another reason? And there are rumours…’
‘In a town like this there are always rumours.’
‘Really? Because, you see, there are stories that Dyne was innocent.’
Andrew dropped his cup. It shattered on the floor, shards of pottery bouncing in all directions, but he didn’t notice. ‘What? Do you mean – but they must be inventing it. It’s peasants talking… blasted fools and cretins the lot of them! What do they know?’
‘Often rather more than we do,’ Baldwin murmured.
‘Well, if he was innocent, who killed my daughter? And why did he confess, eh? Answer me that!’
‘There have been accusations,’ Simon said shortly.
Andrew shot a look at the bailiff. ‘What sort of accusations?’
‘You need not concern yourself with them,’ Baldwin said. ‘But we would like to check some points with you about last night. Where were you?’
‘Most of the time in here, why?’ His face hardened. ‘Do you mean to accuse me of murdering this servant? By God, if that’s what you mean, I’ll…’
Baldwin had been leaning back contemplating the merchant, but now he sat forward and his eyes glittered with near-anger. ‘Stop ranting, man! If you want to cause people to suspect you, you’re going the right way about it.’
‘You dare to come in here and accuse me of…’
‘We are attempting to see who was not involved. However, you have to admit that from your point of view it would be best to clear yourself as quickly as possible.’
‘Me? What do you mean?’ Carter blustered.
‘Simply this,’ Baldwin rasped coldly. ‘Sir Gilbert was murdered, and the only man who could have seen who did it is also now silenced. At the same time, we have discovered that the servant and his master had not enough money to rent a room here in Tiverton, much less make their journey back to London. There are some who might consider that they were robbed.’
Andrew’s face was a picture of astonishment. ‘Robbed, you say? What the hell would I want to rob them for? I’ve got plenty of cash of my own, for God’s sake.’
‘Where were you last night?’
‘I went out to a tavern for a while, but most of the time I was here.’
‘Alone?’ Simon snapped.
‘Why… no.’
‘Who was with you?’
‘My maid.’ He broke off and bellowed, ‘Rose!’
It took only a moment for the girl who had opened the door to hurry in. Baldwin eyed her with interest, convinced that she must have been listening at the screens.
‘Rose, tell these men where I was last night.’
She stared at the ground. ‘My master was with me. In his bed.’
Simon shot the merchant a quick look. The bailiff was certain he saw a small smile of self-satisfaction in the man’s eyes. Simon looked down at his feet with a small frown. Some men would happily take advantage of any of the women in their households, but to deflower a child as young as Rose seemed almost barbaric.
‘For how long?’ Baldwin asked.
‘For most of the night,’ she said slowly. ‘From before dark to early morning. Then I had to rise to get on with my work.’
‘Thank you, child,’ Baldwin said, and she turned hurriedly and walked out.