“Annabel.”
Stephen stood at her left elbow. “Oh!” She jumped then placed her hand over her heart, wondering if it would thump straight out of her body. “What are you doing here?” She lowered her voice, hoping that even Mistress Eustacia, who was beside her, wouldn’t hear. She stepped away with Stephen a few feet and leaned against the cold stone of the manor house, beside the undercroft door.
“I know I shouldn’t have come, but I couldn’t help it. Do you think they will question you?”
Her lip trembled, and she bit it to make it stop. “I am almost certain of it.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t be angry with you, even if you tell them everything.”
“Oh, Stephen. Please forgive me … if I do.”
“I will.”
“I will do my best. I promise.” Tears stung her eyelids as she tried not to think about what might happen to Stephen. “I have to go.” Not wanting people to see her and Stephen together, she turned and fled back to Mistress Eustacia, plastering herself against her mistress’s side.
Ranulf caught sight of Sir Clement standing by the corner of the manor house and started toward him, but Sir Clement was intent on watching two people several feet away — Annabel and Stephen.
Annabel looked pale and distressed. But Sir Clement’s eyes were trained on Stephen, his head cocked as though listening intently. Annabel ran away, eliciting a grim expression from the young woodworker. However, Ranulf was interested in Sir Clement’s expression. His brows had pulled together to form a V between his eyes, and his mouth was slightly ajar.
When Sir Clement turned his gaze on Ranulf, the coroner hurried over to him. “Ranulf, who is that man yonder with the impaired legs?”
“That is Stephen Blundel, a furniture maker and woodworker.”
“Call him over here, and the maiden Annabel.”
Ranulf hadn’t obeyed anyone since his father died. But he had little choice now.
“Stephen.” Ranulf beckoned with his hand then strode to where Annabel stood with Eustacia.
“Annabel.” He spoke her name softly, but still she started and turned. “Come with me for a moment. Sir Clement wants to speak with you and Stephen.”
Her cheeks were already devoid of their usual color, but she lifted her chin and followed. She must have known as well as he did that she had no choice.
Stephen’s face was almost as pale as Annabel’s. Like sheep to the slaughter.
Sir Clement focused on Stephen’s face. “Do you know who I am?”
“You are the king’s coroner.”
“And you must answer me truthfully. Where were you the night the bailiff was struck in the head, rendering him senseless to this day?”
“I was here.”
“Did you see what happened to him?”
Stephen stood still and silent. Even his eyes didn’t blink.
“Did you strike him?”
“I was trying to protect Annabel. I wasn’t trying to kill him. That is all.”
“What did you hit him with?”
“He was holding a knife and was trying to hurt an innocent maiden.” Defiance mixed with the fear in his eyes.
Stephen shifted his weight awkwardly, placing his hip at an abnormal angle that drew the coroner’s notice.
Sir Clement’s lips parted, obviously deep in thought. His voice was somehow softer when he resumed. “You were protecting Annabel?”
Stephen didn’t reply. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.
“Yes.” Sir Clement answered his own question then rubbed his palm over his cheek and chin. He stared in the direction of the circle of jurors across the yard, but his eyes were vacant.
Shouts came from the direction of the lane that led to the village. Adam came running into the yard, panting and out of breath, with his father rather far behind him, also running.
“Bailiff Tom is awake!”
Several people exclaimed, “What?”
“He’s awake,” Adam repeated. “My father sent me to fetch the coroner.”
Annabel looked at Lord le Wyse. He gave her a grim smile and a nod. While she still appeared fragile, a new strength seemed to enter her as she returned his smile.
Tom was alive. And awake. I’m glad he’s survived, God. I pray he will repent of his evil ways. But what would this mean for Annabel? Would he say that Stephen threw the rock, that Stephen tried to kill him? No doubt Annabel would be forced to tell what the bailiff had done, and had been planning to do, to her.
But at least Stephen wouldn’t be hanged for the bailiff’s death.
Ranulf hurried down the road, with Sir Clement close behind him. He was well aware that the entire village, which had turned out for the jury’s inquisition, was following close on his heels.