There had been one danger point. Ella might have remembered flirting with the dead man, but Magdalene hoped she had put it out of her mind because she had been scolded for it. Apparently she had. Now there was only the possibility that the sacristan would not believe her and would tell her that another man had been there and ask more specific questions. But their luck held. Brother Paulinus had had enough of questioning Ella. She heard him mutter, “Stupid bitch,” and then the swish of his staff. Ella cried out, and Magdalene leapt into the room and seized the staff as he raised it again.
“Ella has done nothing to deserve being beaten,” she cried. “She answered your questions as well as she could. You cannot beat her because she did not say what you wished to hear.”
Paulinus yanked at the staff, but Letice and Sabina had also laid hold of it, and the sacristan’s breath drew in sharply at the expressions on their faces. The mute began to twist the staff, the blind woman following her motion. With a gasp of mingled rage and fear, Brother Paulinus let it go before they tore it from his hand. He pushed past them, then past Dulcie, who was about to enter the room carrying a large, heavy pan with a long handle.
“How dare you!” he shrieked, turning to glare at them. “Your bold evil-doing is a result of the prior’s leniency. But you cannot threaten me or escape punishment for your crime.” He strode on, then stopped at the door and turned, smiling this time. “You have undone yourselves.” His voice was replete with satisfaction. “I have a friend close to the Bishop of Winchester, who is here in Southwark. He will tell the bishop what you have done. Threats! Whoring! Murder! You are already damned. Now I will see you all hanged.”
Chapter Three
20 April 1139
Old Priory Guesthouse
As the sacristan went out the door, all five women stood paralyzed, staring after him. When he slammed it behind him, Letice rushed to take Ella in her arms, brushing back her hair and kissing her.
“Why?” Ella sobbed. “Why did he hit me? I did not lie to him. I did not!”
“No, love,” Magdalene said. “You told the truth and you did not deserve to be hurt. You are a good girl, and he—despite being in holy orders—is a bad man. Do not cry, love. Come, wash your face and mouth and I will find a sweet for you to break your fast. Forget him.”
She went and hugged Ella, too, and the girl blinked away her tears and smiled.
“Are you all right now?” Magdalene asked. Ella nodded. “And can you wash and dress by yourself, or do you want Letice to help you?”
“I can do it.”
“Good, love. And when you are ready, go to Dulcie in the kitchen. She will give you a honey cake and milk.”
Ella’s smile brightened even more and she nodded enthusiastically. They went out, Magdalene stopping Dulcie, who had turned away, to tell her about the milk and honey cake. Then she drew the other women into the front room.
“You heard him,” she said. “He is determined to find us guilty—and I think it is not only because he deplores the whorehouse for being here, but because he wishes to use us to make trouble for the prior.”
“I think you are right,” Sabina said. “And if he succeeds….” She shook her head.
“If he succeeds, we will need to find a new house,” Magdalene said grimly. “I wish I knew who that friend is that he spoke of as being close to the bishop. But even if the bishop is not turned against us—where else would he get the rent I pay?—Paulinus would make our lives a misery. We must somehow prove him wrong, or at least prove the dead man did not come from this house.”
Letice raised her expressive hands and made a query of her whole face.
Although she had not seen Letice’s gesture or expression, Sabina voiced her doubts. “How? How can we prove he was not here? Is it possible to prove that a thing did not happen?”
“First we must make sure there is no sign of the man or his horse in the house or the stable. Letice and I cleaned the stable last night, but go and look again, Letice. He was with you, Sabina. Are you sure that he left nothing in your room? Remember, he intended to return, so he might have been careless about leaving, say, gloves or—oh, any small thing—behind.”
“There was nothing in the bed or on the chest where I bid him place his clothes. I did feel about last night after he left so I could put everything in one place, but…but there was something a little strange. He took a very long time to take off his clothes.”
“He was probably just standing and staring at you, admiring you,” Magdalene said, knowing Sabina would hear the smile in her voice.
“No.” A frown creased Sabina’s brow. “I heard him moving about and I asked if he wanted me to help him undress. He laughed and said ‘no’ but…but his voice…he was not facing me when he spoke. Magdalene, I think he had stepped up on the chest. Now I think back, it seems to me I heard it creak. I think…I think he was hiding something.”
“The pouch,” Magdalene breathed. “He never took it off or put it aside, even when he was eating. If he did not trust the man he was to meet, he could have decided to leave it here. He would have thought that you would not see him hide it and thus it would be safe from you and from the rest of us. He stood on the chest, you say?”