Guiscard drew an indignant breath, and then, as if he had not heard her, asked suspiciously, “How did a nothing and no one like Richard de Beaumeis come to be in Rome?”
“He did not tell me, but from what he said, I can guess. I think it possible that Theobald heard about Beaumeis’s ordination being interrupted and felt responsible for it. He may have completed the ordination, and even taken Beaumeis into his Household…no, Beaumeis said he was still tied to St. Paul’s. But I must assume that out of guilt or sympathy, Theobald invited Beaumeis to accompany him to Rome.”
“Guilt or sympathy? Ridiculous. Doubtless it was a reward for ensnaring Winchester and preventing him from protesting the proposal of Theobald for archbishop.”
Magdalene thought about that for a moment. It seemed logical, yet it would mean Theobald knew and was in contact with Beaumeis, which really did not seem likely. She shrugged.
“Whatever the reason, Beaumeis must have traveled in the archbishop’s Household. I cannot believe he is rich enough to make such a journey on his own. He certainly complained bitterly about my prices.”
She was amused to note that Guiscard, who habitually sneered when she mentioned her trade, was too intent this time to react. He was looking at her, but with eyes that did not see, one hand idly smoothing the fur band that bordered the wide sleeve of his fine black gown. As he moved his hand, a ring with a bright stone flashed on one finger. Well found, Magdalene thought. He must be from a family with enough wealth to allow the second or third son they had educated for the church to indulge in fine clothing and jewels. And then she remembered that Bell, too, had been well dressed. The bishop apparently paid well.
“So Beaumeis was in Rome with the new archbishop,” Guiscard murmured.
“That much is sure,” Magdalene agreed, “and that he traveled to England with Messer Baldassare. Perhaps it would be useful for Sir Bellamy to try to discover whether there was some connection between Beaumeis and the archbishop before his election, but what is even more important is what Beaumeis did after he parted from Baldassare.”
For a moment Guiscard’s focus on her sharpened and his mouth twisted, but the look of disgust did not last. Oddly, an expression of satisfaction followed.
“He must have known what Baldassare was carrying in that pouch Sir Bellamy mentioned yesterday,” Guiscard said thoughtfully. “Perhaps Baldassare had with him the papal bull granting the bishop legatine authority. Yes, yes, of course he did. I am sure the pope would be glad to have Winchester as his legate; Innocent’s letters have always been full of praise for the bishop.”
“All that may well be so,” Magdalene said, “but—”
“Listen, you fool. Beaumeis hates the bishop because all those assembled to see him ordained now wonder what evil he did that caused the bishop not only to break off the ordination but refuse to complete it later. Is it impossible to believe that Beaumeis wished to steal the bull or destroy it and thus withhold from Winchester the honor and power it would grant him?”
“Not impossible at all, but when I told him of the murder, I will swear he was much overset.”
“Pooh, pooh.” Guiscard made a brushing gesture. “That Beaumeis is a sneaking, sly creature given to pretense. You should have heard him whining and pleading for the bishop to ordain him before Christmas so that he could be in orders before the holy day. You would have believed him of the most ardent faith.”
“I do not think him very religious, but—”
“Clearly not if he was a common frequenter of your house,” Guiscard said, this time not forgetting his moue of distaste.
“But,” Magdalene continued, ignoring the clerk’s remark, “if he is so fine a pretender as you say, he may well be able to convince others of his innocence. It will not be enough simply to accuse him. Moreover, those who know of the interrupted ordination may well know the true cause. Might they not think this accusation against Beaumeis was bred by spite on the bishop’s part?”
“I would not be so quick to defend Richard de Beaumeis or to accuse the bishop of spite if I were you,” Guiscard snapped. “The Bishop of Winchester does not love Beaumeis, and you would be gutted and hung already if the bishop were not protecting you.”
The threat to tell Winchester that Beaumeis was a client she was trying to protect was implicit behind the angry statement. “I was not defending Beaumeis,” Magdalene protested. “He may well be guilty. And I am well aware of my debt to the Bishop of Winchester. What I do not want to see is Beaumeis escape and the bishop’s name be besmirched because of an accusation without proof.”