‘It is the swiftest way I know to silence a woman,’ he said.
If he thought he had silenced her, then he was mistaken. Yet it had been such a kiss that she could still feel his lips’ impression on hers. How dare he accuse her of spreading falsehood and discontent when he had not read a word she had written! She would show him—but in the meantime, he was right about her keeping up her strength. She reached for the bread and cheese, determined to have her way, but uncertain yet exactly how to go about it. She supposed it all depended on what happened when they reached England. He could not force her to marry and no doubt he would need to leave her in London if he were to visit his wife and children. The sooner they parted the better—they obviously struck sparks off each other, rousing feelings that had to be suppressed.
Gawain wondered what she was thinking. What would she say if he told her that Mary had borne him a son, but the boy had died? How in the weeks that followed he’d had to contend with Mary’s coolness and impenetrable silences. He had tried to reason with her and get her to talk about their loss, but that had been a waste of time. Once he had discovered there was another man involved, it had caused him to wonder how long she had been making a cuckold of him and whether the boy had truly been his son or this other man’s child. He had tried to be a good husband to her—never had he beaten her or forced her to bend to his will as she had told him her father had done. Gawain had treated her with respect and warmth as he remembered his father treating his mother. There had been great love between his parents, but still it had been a terrible shock when his father had died on the hunting field not long after his mother had passed away. Although he had left no message, Gawain was convinced his father had not wanted to live after his mother’s death and had recklessly taken one risk too many. As if it had not been painful enough to lose his mother, he had felt utterly abandoned when his father died.
‘I must speak to my servants, Jane and Sam,’ said Beth, rousing Gawain from his reverie.
‘My man, Tom Cobtree, and the lad, Michael, should be here soon,’ he said, lifting his head. ‘I will instruct them on how to find your tent. Hopefully, your servants will have returned and Tom will have your maid pack your possessions and bring them here. It is best you sleep in this tent tonight. You and she can have my sleeping quarters. I want the men to make a thorough search of your tent and its vicinity in the hope of finding the dagger and any other clues that might point to the identity of the murderer.’
Beth accepted Gawain’s plan. She had no desire to return to the other tent where her father had met his death.
Within the hour, Tom and Michael had arrived; after a low-voiced discussion with Gawain, they left. Thankfully, Beth did not have to wait long before Jane came with some of her mistress’s baggage. Gawain excused himself and left the two women to rearrange the sleeping quarters.
Jane was old enough to be Beth’s mother and they were fond of each other. She was a widow and had lost two children in infancy. ‘What a terrible thing to happen, Mistress Beth,’ she said, dabbing her wet eyes with her sleeve. ‘What is the world coming to? How will we manage?’
Beth placed an arm around her. ‘I’m sure we will cope, Jane. It isn’t as if I was unaccustomed to running the household and, despite what Sir Gawain says, I am determined that my father’s business will not be sold.’
Jane’s face brightened. ‘That’s the spirit, Mistress Beth, although, I will say that I deem it a good thing that the master thought to enlist him to keep an eye on you.’
‘More than just an eye, Jane,’ said Beth, scowling. ‘Father asked him to find a husband for me. You can imagine how I feel about that.’
‘Your father only wanted what was best for you, Mistress Beth,’ said Jane, picking up the bundle of bedding she had brought with her.
‘What he thought was best for me,’ corrected Beth. ‘But he didn’t really know me. Even so, I’d like to go to the Church of the Nativity of Our Lady in the village and speak with the priest and have masses said for his soul. You can accompany me after we’ve finished here. I know some French and am sure I will be able to make my wishes known.’ She sighed. ‘Let’s hope that Sir Gawain and the other men will find some clue to the murderer’s identity.’
Gawain took the dagger from Tom and fingered the amethysts embedded in the hilt. ‘Where did you find it?’
‘In the corner over there,’ said Tom. ‘The grass hasn’t been flattened by the groundsheet and the cloth it was in was the same colour. Definitely worth a bit,’ he added with fine understatement.
‘I’ve a feeling I’ve seen that dagger before,’ said Sam.
Gawain shot a glance at the burly figure of Beth’s servant. ‘Are you sure? Think, man.’
Sam screwed up his lined face. ‘Perhaps it was in some nobleman’s house when I was out delivering books on the master’s orders. Couldn’t see any of our other customers owning such a blade.’
‘I presume there’ll be a list of Master Llewellyn’s customers back in London,’ said Gawain.
Sam nodded. ‘Mistress Beth will be able to put her hand on the book straight away.’
Gawain looked thoughtful. ‘But she didn’t recognise the dagger.’
‘She don’t go delivering, has too much else to do.’
Gawain placed the dagger in its cloth inside his doublet. ‘I’d best return to Mistress Llewellyn and inform her that we’ve found the weapon. Sam, if you would, pack your master’s possessions and bring them to my tent. Tom, you can come with me and cook us something hot for supper. You, Sam and Michael will share this tent tonight.’
The three of them nodded.
When Gawain arrived back at his tent it was to find it deserted. Where could Beth and her maid have vanished to? He was filled with unease, hoping they had not been followed earlier. Then he remembered what Beth had said about visiting the church in the village and decided to go and look for her there. He told Tom what he was about and then set off in the direction of Balinghem.
‘It is a sobering thought, Jane,’ said Beth in hushed tones as they left the church, ‘that my father’s bones will lie here in France. A country that he long regarded as the enemy.’
Jane glanced over her shoulder as they hurried past the churchyard. ‘You can’t trust the Frenchies. Their king might be all smiles now, but give him another month and he’ll be making up to someone else. The Scotties, mebbe, or even the Holy Roman Emperor Charles, himself.’
‘The Emperor is Queen Katherine’s nephew, so it is more likely that he and Henry might yet come to some agreement against the French,’ said Beth. ‘But these matters are for statesmen and royalty to sort out. We have enough problems of our own to deal with when we return home.’
‘Do you think Sir Gawain will move us from Pater Noster Row?’
‘I imagine that he has that in mind,’ said Beth. ‘With a murderer on the loose, no doubt he would consider it a sensible move.’ Even as she spoke, Beth caught sight of Gawain coming towards them. She frowned, her emotions in a tangle, and thought how strange it was that in such a short time she was able to recognise his form and his stride from a distance. She determined not to dwell on the kiss he had forced on her or how much she had liked it.
She waited until he drew closer before calling, ‘Good even, Sir Gawain. Did you find anything?’
‘Aye. Tom found the dagger. Somehow it must have been knocked from the table and landed in a patch of tall grass in a corner.’ Gawain gazed down at her and wondered if she was still angry inside because he had kissed her. ‘Your man, Sam, thinks he might have seen it in some nobleman’s house whilst delivering books. He can’t remember his name. He suggested that you look through the account book and read the names out to him, so that hopefully it will jog his memory.’
Beth felt a stir of excitement. ‘And if it can be proved that person was also