Ranulf waited for him to explain.
“There are several aspects that appear to prove the girl false. For one, why would she come here to accuse you of immorality half dressed and in her nightshirt? And she accused you of trying to take advantage of her tonight. Obviously a falsehood, since I myself heard you refuse to allow her in your bed. But I have another reason that is yet more compelling, which I will keep to myself, for now.” He looked at Ranulf with a slight smile. “I again bid you a good night.” With that, he returned to his bed and climbed under the bedclothes.
Eustacia stared with her mouth open. And Ranulf decided not to ponder Sir Clement’s last reason.
Ranulf watched as Annabel strode into the upper hall, her back rigid. Her eyes moved, flitting like frightened birds. Father God, steady her. Give her peace and wisdom.
At least Sir Clement was allowing him to sit in on the interrogations. Ranulf only wished Annabel wasn’t the first person on the coroner’s list.
Sir Clement motioned her to a chair in front of one of the long windows — the morning light streaming in made her appear almost unearthly, with her golden hair and wide, innocent eyes.
She clenched her hands together in her lap and stared up at Sir Clement, who fixed her with his own probing stare.
Sir Clement finally broke the silence. “What is your name?”
“Annabel Chapman, sir.” Her voice was soft but steely.
“How long have you been in Lord le Wyse’s service here at the manor house?” Sir Clement examined his fingernails, as though the conversation bored him.
She blinked and hesitated. “Two or three weeks.”
“How came you to be here? You are the daughter of a freeman, are you not?”
“I am, sir. My father died three years ago, and my mother and brothers and I have not been able to pay the censum since then.” She took a deep breath and went on. “As we have no money and had avoided fieldwork, the hallmote decided that one of my family must be indentured to Lord le Wyse for three years, the length of time that the censum went unpaid.” Annabel finished, expelling a soft breath.
Ranulf swallowed, his throat constricting.
“I see.” The coroner stroked his chin, glancing out the window. “How did you feel about coming here?”
“I—” She stopped, her face draining of what little color she’d had. She sat up straighter. “I wasn’t eager to leave my home, but I wanted to help my family. One of us had to come. It was only right.”
“Why weren’t you eager to leave? Were you happy there?”
Annabel stared down at her hands in her lap. She shook her head slightly, almost imperceptibly. “I was not unhappy.”
“Was there a particular reason you did not want to come here, to the manor house of Lord le Wyse? Perhaps you had heard your lord was a hard man, unfair, lecherous, unseemly — “
Her head jerked up. “Oh, no! Lord le Wyse is none of those things.” Ranulf’s heart did a strange stutter at the way she defended him. He longed to intervene, to stop the questioning.
“There is nothing about Lord le Wyse that frightened you? I have known him many years, and he has a nasty temper. And I know the rumors people sometimes spread about his … beastliness.” Sir Clement gave her a sympathetic look, as if trying to get her to trust him.
Annabel glanced quickly at Ranulf and then looked back at the coroner, “I was a bit afraid of him when I first arrived, but I’m not anymore. His temper is not so nasty, not really. He has a lot of responsibilities, and it’s understandable that he might … get angry at times. And he is not beastly. That’s a terrible thing to say. He is a noble, good lord. No one who knew him could say anything dishonorable about him.”
Ranulf’s heart swelled at her words. She thinks I’m honorable. Her face turned red, her hands fidgeted, and she wouldn’t look at him.
Sir Clement was silent for a few moments. “So was there some other reason you did not wish to come to the manor house, to serve Lord le Wyse?”
“There were many reasons. My family depended on me, and I didn’t want to live among strangers.”
“Strangers? Were you afraid?” As Annabel began to fidget, a spark lit in the coroner’s eyes. “Of whom were you afraid, pray tell?”
“I … I already said I was afraid of Lord le Wyse.”
“But you were afraid of someone else, weren’t you?” Sir Clement peered closely at Annabel’s face. “Had someone given you reason to be afraid?”
She pressed her lips together, as if struggling not to speak. How Ranulf wanted to protect her from these questions. O God, help her. She had no choice but to cooperate with the inquest. And he could do nothing to stop it.
Sir Clement pressed on. “You were afraid of a particular person, weren’t you? Was that person Bailiff Tom?”
The light from the window revealed a tear trembling at the corner of her eye.