A Mortal Bane(46)

“Too bad. Winchester wants that pouch.”

“I feared so. The fact that Baldassare was here, so close to the bishop, made me think he carried a message from the pope for Winchester. But then I wondered why he did not simply go to the bishop’s house.”

“That seems clear enough. Surely he knew his entertainment here would be more lively and…ah…gratifying.”

“But he did not know what kind of guesthouse it was. He stopped because of a joke one of our clients played on him. He told Baldassare that this was the Bishop of Winchester’s inn and that it was just behind the church of St. Mary Overy priory. Oh!”

“Oh?”

“Oh, I have been a fool. I was so angry because I thought the intention was to besmirch the bishop with a connection to my house that I did not realize Baldassare asked to stay only after I told him that we had a back gate that led into the churchyard. Earlier he told me he had a meeting in the neighborhood, but I never thought of it being in the church.”

“Is not that the most likely place? It is well known, prominent, easy to find, and always open.”

“Yes, but—” Magdalene shrugged. “I suppose because he was so much at ease with us, I did not think his next stop would be a church. I thought he might be in minor orders at least, and I suppose I felt he would not stop in a whorehouse just before he planned to enter a church. On the other hand, he did not act as if being with Sabina would weigh on his conscience, or that he would need to confess to ease it, so…ah, here we are.”





Chapter Six



21 April 1139





Old Priory Guesthouse



Magdalene was a little disturbed when Sir Bellamy hardly reacted to the sight of her women, all sitting together near the fire. Letice and Ella were embroidering. Sabina had apparently been singing; her lute was in her lap, her fingers still in position upon it, but she must have stopped as soon as she heard the snick of the latch. Magdalene had hoped that so much beauty of all different types would distract him from her. Not that she planned to allow him access to any of the women without the normal fee—that would be tantamount to admitting they had something to hide—but she would have been more comfortable if he showed more interest and desire.

Ella jumped up as soon as they were in sight, laying aside her embroidery. She did not mind the work and did it reasonably well, if not with the exquisite skill Magdalene had, but she loved her other work much more.

“Have you brought a new friend?” she asked eagerly. “He is very pretty. My name is Ella. I am pretty, too.”

Magdalene heard a faint, strangled sound from Sir Bellamy, but did not turn to look at him. “Go back to your seat, love,” she said to Ella as the girl started forward. “Sir Bellamy is, indeed, a friend, but he has not come here to lie with any of us. He is on the business of the Bishop of Winchester.”

Ella blinked, and her pretty mouth drooped with disappointment, but she obediently went back to her stool and picked up the embroidery. “Does that mean he can never come to bed? Surely when his business is done—”

“Hush, love,” Magdalene said, smiling. One could not help smiling at Ella’s dedication. “That is for Sir Bellamy to decide, and you know we do not urge our friends one way or the other. But I wish to make known to him Letice and Sabina now, so work and be quiet.” She turned to him. “Sir Bellamy, the small, dark woman is Letice; she is mute and cannot greet you. And the woman with the lute is Sabina. Please speak so she will know where to direct her conversation; she is, as I mentioned to you, blind.”