“I do not know,” Sabina said sadly. “It is true I do not like being a whore. If I sinned with one man alone, I would not be excommunicate, but I would have to leave Letice and Ella, whom I love. They are true sisters to me, which I never had. Oh, I do not know. I will talk to Magdalene and hear what she says.”
“I will pay to free you. Anything…almost anything.”
There was a brief delay; Magdalene guessed that Sabina had kissed her client. Then she heard Sabina say, “I am not a slave, or bonded, but I cannot decide. Try to be patient with me.”
He sighed. “I must go. I will be patient. There is no one like you, Sabina.”
When Magdalene heard the back door close, she came out into the corridor and drew Sabina into the kitchen. “Listen to what goes forward in the bathing room,” she murmured, “and tell me what you hear.”
Sabina’s ears were far keener than her own, and Magdalene went back to the common room so that the man would not find them all clustered together if he came out suddenly.
“Nothing unusual,” Sabina said softly when she, too, had come into the common room. “Perhaps Ella was not laughing as much as usual, but I heard her speak and she did not sound frightened nor was she crying.”
Magdalene sighed. To keep her hands busy, she had cut a section of deep crimson ribbon to the right length for the headband the mercer had ordered. In a low voice, she told Sabina about the visitor, her suspicions about him, and her anxiety because Dulcie had not returned with Bell. All the while, she used a decorative stitch to hem into place the blunt arrow formed by the turned-in corners of the ribbon, into which she had fixed another very narrow, matching ribbon for tying at the back of the head.
They had fallen into an uneasy silence until a door slammed open and the stranger’s voice said, “Enough, girl. Empty out the bath or whatever else you want to do. I need to talk to the mistress of the house.”
Sabina bit her lip. Magdalene stood up.
“That girl is an idiot!” the man exclaimed as he entered the room. He was wearing one of the bedgowns kept in the bathing room for guests and carrying his sword and clothing. He looked from Magdalene to Sabina. “I need someone to whom I can talk,” he said. “Is this one an idiot, too? Why is she closing her eyes?”
“Sabina’s eyes are closed because she is blind,” Magdalene said. “Ella is simple but not an idiot, and she has a great enthusiasm for her work. Most men like her very much.”
“Well, I do not. I paid for a whole night, and I will strangle that one if I must spend it with her. So this one is blind, is she? I’ll bet she has good ears. I’ll try this one.”
Magdalene drew breath to offer him his money back and invite him to leave. Before she could speak, Sabina shook her head and rose, putting out her hand. Her staff was not in its leather socket attached to the stool, however, she had left it in her chamber as she sometimes did when she did not intend to leave the house. Misunderstanding, the stranger seized her hand and yanked her toward him.
“Go and comfort Ella if she needs you,” Sabina told Magdalene, and then turned her head toward the man who was pulling at her. “I am ready, sir. About what would you like to talk?”
“In your room,” he said, letting her come even with him and walk to her door.
Magdalene heard her apologize over some small disorder in the room before the door closed; then she put aside her embroidery and went to the bathing chamber. Fortunately, she did not find Ella in tears, and after helping her empty the tub, she was able to step softly from the bathing room to Sabina’s door. There she caught the low murmur of Sabina’s voice, was about to walk on, and then stiffened with alarm. The man’s reply was low and snarling. She pressed her ear to the door.
“You lie, whore! If you saw Messer Baldassare for only a moment, why are you crying? Did you kill him yourself?”
“No,” Sabina sobbed. “He was only here for a short time, but he was a good man, a kind man. He knew just how to lead me from my stool to the table. I would never have harmed him. I weep because I am sorry for any man who died so.”
“Liar!”
Magdalene was already reaching for the door latch when she heard the sound of a slap and a thump as Sabina, thrown off balance, fell. She flung the door open.
“Stop that,” she snapped. “I told you I did not allow my women to be hurt.”
“And how will you stop me?” he spat back and laughed. “What can you do? I am not afraid of your protectors. My master is more powerful than either William of Ypres or Winchester, who was not elected archbishop.” He advanced on Magdalene. “You may curse the Bishop of Worcester for not agreeing to my lord’s will. If he had not refused to block Winchester’s advancement or we had known what the messenger carried or when he would come—or if you give me the pouch right now, I would not have to smash your pretty face.”