A Mortal Bane(100)

As she walked to the rear gate, unlocked it surreptitiously, and slid through, she tried to decide whether to tell Bell that William had been with her and had remembered that it was Beaumeis whose ordination had been interrupted. She could say she had remembered the name herself, she thought, and then bit her lip. Fool that she was. Of course she must tell Bell—perhaps she had better begin to call him Sir Bellamy again—about William’s visit. She needed to remind him of what she was.

Magdalene slipped by the monk at the gate by pulling the hood of her cloak down so far that her veiled face could not be seen. When she came near the gate, she bent forward and uttered hoarse sobs. Young Brother Patric, as Magdalene had hoped, allowed his soft heart to overcome his strict duty. Although he could not actually remember the arrival of the sad lady, he was sure she must have come in if she was now going out. There was no need to stop her and add to her distress by demanding to know who she was.

Very shortly afterward, breathing prayers of thanks to the Merciful Mother for her help and indulgence, Magdalene walked through the open gate of the bishop’s house. He was not personally in the house, Magdalene noted, rather relieved than disappointed. Winchester had looked strange when she mentioned Beaumeis and she had no inclination to say that name to him again, particularly knowing what she now did.

A few blows on the door brought a servant, who looked shocked at seeing a woman, but Magdalene gave him no time to react. She pushed firmly against the door, stepped in, and said, “I wish to speak to Sir Bellamy of Itchen.”

“He is attending on the bishop. He is not within,” the servant said, looking faintly pleased.

Magdalene was sharply disappointed. She had told herself that she was hurrying to the bishop’s house to give Bell the opportunity to question Beaumeis while he was still shocked by the news of Baldassare’s death. Now she realized that she had used that purpose as an excuse for another meeting. Furious with herself, she determined to give her information to anyone responsible and intelligent enough to repeat it adequately.

“Then I must leave a message for him with one of the bishop’s clerks,” she said.

The servant was not pleased with her persistence, but either he remembered that the bishop had been willing to speak to her a few days earlier or he was impressed by her rich cloak and veil, and he directed her to the back of the room. When Magdalene saw that it was Guiscard sitting at the table, she was tempted to turn around and walk out. She resisted the temptation, telling herself that explaining to Guiscard was her penance for not waiting for Bell to stop by the Old Guesthouse.

To her surprise, Guiscard did not shout “Out, whore!” as she approached the table. She felt a flush of gratitude, guessing that the bishop had reprimanded him—or perhaps Bell had. Not that Guiscard had altered his manner as far as cordiality or even civility.

“What do you here?” he asked, barely glancing at her when she stood before the table, and then determinedly looking down at a parchment spread before him.

“I have a message for Sir Bellamy,” she replied.

“Neither Sir Bellamy nor the bishop are here,” Guiscard said without looking up.

“So the servant told me.” Magdalene kept her voice level. “However, I think it important that Sir Bellamy be told that Richard de Beaumeis is back in London. He—”

“Beaumeis?” Guiscard raised his head abruptly. “That is the man who caused the bishop so much grief. Why should Sir Bellamy be interested in him?”

“Because Beaumeis traveled from Rome with Messer Baldassare.”

“He did?” Guiscard stared at her. “Are you sure?”