The Holy Innocents

Chapter Six

‘My father,’ she said, ‘was a distant kinsman of Sir Jasper Crouchback’s wife, Lucy, and there was a sufficient bond of blood between them to merit the title of “cousin”. Sir Jasper acknowledged it, and did what he could to aid my parents when times were bad, and used his influence with the manor lord to get us this holding. He was also influential in having it written into the lease that it should remain in our possession for two generations, regardless of whether the heir were male or female.

‘Lucy Crouchback died when Rosamund was born. She was their first child, and Lucy was not much above nineteen summers. It was a bitter blow to Sir Jasper, who had come to marriage late, being some fifteen, perhaps sixteen, years older than his wife. Everyone naturally expected him to marry again and get himself a son, but he didn’t. He remained a widower for the rest of his fife and lavished all his love and money on Rosamund. The result, as you might suppose, was a wilful, spoilt child, used to getting her own way in everything, and one who could wind her father around her little finger.’

‘You speak without malice,’ I interrupted. ‘In spite of her faults, you were fond of her?’

Grizelda smiled. ‘I was, and she of me, I like to think. Oh, there were times when we quarrelled, and on occasions bitterly. I should be a liar if I denied it. But it’s no more than you’d expect when two girls grow up together in the same house, sharing the same toys and the same bed. But I get ahead of myself. When I was nine years old, my mother died. Rosamund was then about five, with only the old family nurse for female companionship. Sir Jasper offered to relieve my father of my care by taking me to live with him in the town, as a playmate for Rosamund. I think my father was thankful to let me go, even though I, too, was an only child. He knew nothing about the upbringing of girls.’ She laughed. ‘Truth to tell, I think women were always something of a mystery to him, poor man.’

‘And were you willing?’

‘Not at first. I remember crying and begging my father not to send me. But he told me it was for my own good, and in the end I knew he had been right. Living with Sir Jasper and Rosamund gave me the friendship of my own sex and the kind of life of which, hitherto, I had only had glimpses.’

‘Sir Jasper was a very rich man,’ I said, not questioning, but stating. ‘How did he make his money?’

Grizelda put her head on side, regarding me thoughtfully.

‘Do you know anything about the cloth trade?’ she asked.

I finished my ale and put the empty beaker down on the bench beside me.

‘My mother-in-law is a spinner, and dwells in the midst of Bristol’s weaving community. Her father was a weaver for most of his life. So, yes, you could say I know a little about the cloth trade.’

My companion nodded. ‘Then do you know what straights are?’

‘I’ve heard them spoken of, and always with contempt. They are the poor, coarse lengths of cloth woven from the wool of inferior sheep, whose fleece is not considered good enough for English broadcloth.’

Grizelda laughed. ‘You’ve obviously learned your lesson well enough to recite it by heart. But straights are not universally despised, you know, and they sell fast enough abroad, especially to the Bretons. Many a Totnes fortune has been made in Little Britain, Sir Jasper Crouchback’s being but one of them. His and Thomas Cozin’s boats plied from the harbour here across the Narrow Sea and back again for many years, and still do, though now the enterprise is managed solely by Master Cozin. And he, like the honourable man he is, saw to it that Sir Jasper’s investment in the business continued to benefit his heirs. When Rosamund died in childbirth, last Martinmas, bearing Eudo Colet’s stillborn son, she was even wealthier than her father had been.’

‘And her husband is now in sole possession of this fortune? Well, it’s the law. But go back a little. Tell me about your cousin’s first marriage.’

‘To Sir Henry Skelton. Very well. He was a gentleman of the bedchamber to King Edward. He had lands in Yorkshire, but as he was a widower with a grown-up son it was upon that son the estate devolved when Sir Henry was killed. He and Rosamund were only wed a little over two years. They met when Sir Jasper took the pair of us to London some… oh… nine years ago, would it be? Rosamund had just turned eighteen years of age, and I was four years older.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘I can see you struggling with your numbers, chapman, so I will take pity and tell you that I was born the same year that the late King Henry married the Frenchwoman, Margaret of Anjou. Which, by my reckoning gives me thirty summers.’

I tried to look astonished at this information, but she was too shrewd to be taken in by my feigned amazement.

‘Admit it,’ she laughed. ‘You had already judged me to be as much. No, no! Don’t bother to deny it. I have no wish to be thought any younger.’

‘And why should you,’ I asked gallantly, ‘when you are such a very handsome woman?’

That made her laugh even more, but she flushed with pleasure, nevertheless. And I only spoke the truth. She was very good-looking.

‘Where was I?’ she murmured.

‘You and Rosamund were taken to London by Sir Jasper.’

‘Ah, yes. He had a house in Paternoster Row, in the lee of Saint Paul’s, and we lived there for several months of each year. Sir Jasper had made up his mind, you see, that Rosamund should marry well, and there was no one in Totnes whom he could even begin to consider as a possible husband for her. She was to wed a man with a place at court and of some influence with the King.’

‘Sir Jasper was for the House of York, then?’

‘Most certainly. King Edward had all his allegiance.’

‘And this Sir Henry Skelton, presumably, was just such a man as he had in mind for your cousin. But what were her feelings in the matter?’

Grizelda shrugged. ‘I never heard her oppose his wishes. You might think that was only natural in a dutiful daughter, but Rosamund, as I have said, could be spoilt and self-willed on occasions. But in this case, she was perfectly biddable. Why do you ask?’

‘Something your friend, Jacinta, told me, that your cousin said she had married to oblige her father the first time, but would marry a second time to please herself’

Grizelda frowned, annoyed. ‘That woman gossips too much. Not but what she may be right, although I never heard Rosamund express any such sentiment myself. She certainly offered no opposition to Sir Jasper’s plans for her when the marriage was arranged, although …’ She hesitated, looking faintly embarrassed.

‘Although?’ I prompted.

Grizelda picked up my empty beaker and got up to refill it, busying herself so that, for the moment, she had her back towards me.

‘I think the marriage, brief as it was, may have been a disappointment to my cousin. Rosamund was… of a passionate nature, and once those… those sort of feelings had been aroused in her, she needed a passionate man to assuage them.’ Grizelda mopped up the drips of ale on the table, wiped around the bottom of the cup and returned to her seat, still avoiding my eyes. ‘Sir Henry Skelton, as I have indicated, was some years older than she. A widower and, as far as I could observe, not a very uxorious man. Which might well be the reason why, when Rosamund came to marry again, and with no one then to check her or approve of her choice, she allowed her… her appetites to overrule her better judgement.’

‘I understand,’ I said gently, taking the beaker from her and cupping it between my hands.

‘Yes.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘So, to continue. Fortunately perhaps, for Rosamund, the marriage did not last long. My little Andrew was born the year following the wedding, at the beginning of May, and Mary thirteen months later, but by then Sir Henry was already dead.’

‘How did he die?’

‘He was killed, defending his lands in the north, two months or so before Mary was born. I can’t recall all the details now, but it was the beginning of greater trouble in the autumn, when the Earl of Warwick captured the King and held him prisoner in Pontefract Castle. There had been rumours during the Christmas feast that all was not well between King Edward and the Earl, but no one could quite believe it. They were close kinsmen and had been like blood brothers for so long.’

I nodded. ‘I remember.’ At the time, I had recently entered upon my novitiate, and the news of such stirring events, penetrating even the abbey’s hallowed walls, had relieved my boredom, and distracted me from my growing conviction that, whatever my mother’s wishes, I could never tolerate the religious life. ‘It was the beginning of the road which eventually led Warwick into the Lancastrian camp and his death, less that two years later, on Barnet Field.’

‘Your grasp of events is better than mine. But I do know that in the spring, before the King’s captivity, there were insurrections in Yorkshire, because Sir Henry was summoned by his elder son to return and protect his property. It was during a skirmish with the rebels that he was killed.’

‘You had remained in London with your cousin throughout her marriage?’

Grizelda replied with dignity, ‘I looked after little Andrew. I was his nurse.’

I made no comment, but it was apparent to me that the relationship between the two women had inevitably altered on Rosamund’s marriage. They could no longer continue on an equal footing, and the impoverished and dowerless Grizelda had been relegated to a subordinate role.

My thoughts must have shown in my face, for she said quietly, ‘It meant much to me that I was still needed. I could so easily have been sent packing back to my father, but Rosamund wanted me to stay. And in private, nothing had changed between us. We continued to be friends and confidantes.’

‘And after Mary was born, you returned to Devon, to live with Sir Jasper.’

Grizelda smiled. ‘You speak with confidence: Jacinta seems to have told you a great deal. But yes, you’re right. We came home, and I, for one, was glad. I disliked London, a dirty, noisy place. And more traffic crowding the roads in one day than you would see in six months in Totnes. For over a twelvemonth, we were settled and happy, and I had the maid, Bridget Praule, to help with the care of the children. You met her grandam yesterday morning, at the hocking.’

‘I recollect,’ I said feelingly. ‘What happened, then, to disturb you at the end of a year?’

‘Sir Jasper died suddenly on Corpus Christi Eve. He was in the counting-house, talking to his clerk, when he just fell to the floor with a terrible groan and was taken up dead. Two months later, my own father died of a rheum, too much neglected, which turned to a fever and carried him off within a few days. I would have returned to the holding then, as my duty dictated, but Rosamund begged me to remain and continue to look after the children. They knew and loved me, she said, as I knew and loved them. And indeed, with all my partiality, I have to admit that she was not a good mother. She was by nature too indolent and selfish. So, I stayed. As you already know, I let Innes Woodsman run the holding for me in return for free lodging, and in this way, life continued for another two years. There were a number of suitors for Rosamund’s hand during that time, as you would expect with such a wealthy young widow, especially one who, thanks to Master Thomas Cozin, was growing even richer. But none of them was successful. Not one was the man she wanted. And then in late summer, three years since, she decided to go to London to stay awhile with some former neighbours in Paternoster Row: a Ginèvre Napier and her husband, Gregory. Gregory Napier is a goldsmith with a shop in West Cheap, between Foster Lane and Gudrun Lane.’

‘But you and the children did not go with her?’

‘No. Rosamund had grown bored. She was restless for excitement, diversity. She said she was growing old before her time. It so happened, that August, that an elderly and respectable couple from the other side of the river, old friends of Sir Jasper, were travelling to London to visit their married daughter who lived in the Bread Street Ward, so Rosamund went with them. She was supposed to come back with them, also, three weeks later, but when Master Harrison and his goodwife called for her on the homeward journey, Rosamund told them that Ginèvre had urged her remain longer with her and her husband, and that she would make her own arrangements for returning to Totnes. That was the message they delivered, not without some distress, for I think they felt responsible for her. Nor did they care overmuch for Ginèvre Napier, I could tell, both by their manner and the way they talked about her. But there was nothing they could do. Rosamund was responsible to nobody but herself for her actions.’

Grizelda sighed, paused and then continued, ‘She did not come home until October, the end, for it was only a day or so before All Hallows’ Eve when she arrived in a splendid new wagonette, upholstered inside with velvet cushions, and with velvet curtains across the windows to keep out the cold. She was not alone. There was a man with her. As she descended from the wagon, the children ran to greet her. “My dearlings,” she said, stooping to kiss them, “this is your new father, Mamma’s new husband, Master Eudo Colet.”’

There was a profound silence in the cottage, and I became aware once more of the birds singing in the trees outside. I could also hear the snorting and snuffling of a herd of pigs, as their owner drove them into the forest to root for beechmast and truffles. A man’s voice called a greeting, to which Grizelda responded. Then the silence drifted back, deeper than before.

I had a vivid, mind’s eye picture of the scene my companion had just conjured up for me, the wagonette drawing up to the door, the horses blowing steam in the cold, wintry air, the two children running excitedly to greet their mother, who had been absent for so many months and had now, at last, returned to them. I saw Rosamund – or, at least, the likeness I had created in my imagination – descend from the carriage and stoop for their embrace. And, behind her, making a leisurely descent, was the shadowy figure of an unknown man.

‘What happened then?’ I inquired at last.

‘Nothing.’ Grizelda spoke sharply. ‘What could happen? She had married him, and he had the marriage lines to prove it. He was our new master, the children’s stepfather. We had to accept it.’

‘But you didn’t like him,’ I said quietly, when she appeared reluctant to say anything further.

‘I hated him from the first.’ Her voice was low, but vehement.

‘You must have had a reason,’ I urged, after another silence.

Grizelda shifted on the bench, easing her back against the wall. She seemed to relax suddenly, as though relieved to be able to talk openly at last to a sympathetic stranger.

‘But that was just the trouble. I had no good reason for the way I felt about Eudo Colet, except an instinctive mistrust of the man. There was something about him from the very start that made me sure he was of peasant stock. Oh, my bucko looked very fine in the rich clothes that undoubtedly Rosamund had bought for him. But he wasn’t comfortable in them. He was unused to such finery and paraded it like a peacock, whereas a gentleman who always wore that kind of apparel would have thought nothing of it. And it was the same when he bestrode a horse. Oh, he could ride, but he had a heavy hand on the bridle and the bit tore at the animal’s mouth. He had been used to sturdier animals, working beasts, not the mettlesome horseflesh in Rosamund’s stables.’

‘And you considered him an adventurer, after your cousin’s money?’

‘Yes. How was it possible for me to think otherwise? And neither Rosamund nor he would ever talk about his life before they met. What he was, where he came from remained a secret which only they shared. As I said earlier, not even Master Cozin could uncover anything concerning him, although he despatched two of his servants to London to make inquiries. Rosamund was beside herself with fury when she found out, and it led to a breach of several months between them. But she needed Thomas to run her affairs, and when she discovered that he had been unsuccessful, she forgave him.’

‘What about Master Cozin’s brother, the attorney? Did he ever make any attempt to get at the truth?’

‘He may have done. I think it most probable, but I never heard of it. Rosamund had ceased to confide in me. I’m afraid I had made my dislike of Eudo too plain. My belief is that she would have suggested I leave and return here to live, had I not been so useful to her with the children. She had no need to trouble her head about them while I was there to look after them. She was free to spend her time as she wished, with her husband.’

‘And how did they seem together?’

‘To begin with, all was well. She doted on him.’ Again, Grizelda coloured faintly. ‘Eudo Colet gave her… what she wanted in a man. He provided… what we were talking of just now. In that respect, he was everything that Henry Skelton was not. But as time went on, there were disagreements between them. For it was obvious to me that she was far fonder of him than he of her, which only served to confirm my suspicions that he had married her for her money. In those circumstances, it was natural that, on occasions, his eyes should stray towards other women. But,’ Grizelda added grudgingly, ‘I don’t believe he deceived her in any bolder fashion.’

‘And the children?’ I asked. ‘Was he kind to them?’

She shrugged. ‘Neither kind nor unkind. If he were forced to take notice of them, he was polite enough, but for the most part, like Rosamund, he ignored them. As long as I attended to all Mary’s and Andrew’s needs, there was no reason why their mother or Eudo should have much to do with them.’

I interposed here with a question I had been wanting to ask for sometime, because of a memory nagging at the back of my mind.

‘What does he look like, this Eudo Colet?’

Grizelda considered, taking her time before answering. At length, she said, ‘Dark of hair and general complexion. Eyes the colour of hazel nuts, a slightly crooked nose and full lips above a bushy, dark brown beard. A twelvemonth younger than Rosamund. Five years younger than me.’

‘Then I’ve seen him!’ I exclaimed triumphantly. ‘Yesterday afternoon, early. I was returning to the town after eating my dinner down by St Peter’s Quay, when I encountered this horseman near the Leper Hospital. He was mounted on a chestnut with pale mane and taft, but appeared uneasy in the handling of the animal. A bearded man, richly dressed.’

Grizelda nodded. ‘Eudo, undoubtedly. Where was he going?’

‘We didn’t speak, but he was riding downhill, in the direction of the bridge.’

‘Then he was returning to his lodgings. Since he quit the house, after the children’s murder, he has been staying with Agatha Tenter and her mother.’

‘So Jacinta informed me. She seemed to find the fact significant.’

Grizelda’s head reared up. ‘Significant? In what way?’

‘That she didn’t make clear to me, but I should hazard a guess that she suspects some sort of affection between Master Colet and Agatha Tenter. You said yourself that he had a wandering eye. Might it not have ranged as far as the cook? After all, they were together, night and day, under the same roof –’

Grizelda bit her lip. ‘I never saw sign of such an attachment, but that’s not to say there mightn’t have been one. Agatha’s a year or so older than I, but not yet in her dotage.’ She gave me a sly, sidelong glance, conscious of fishing for a compliment, and hurried on, ‘A good-looking enough woman, too, if you like red hair and a buxom figure.’

I said nothing, only shook my head and grinned. Almost, but not quite, by accident, I shifted a little closer to Grizelda on the bench. After a momentary start, she made no effort to put more distance between us.

‘I’ve made you lose the thread of your story with my interruptions,’ I apologized. ‘Your cousin’s death in childbirth must have changed many things.’

‘It did. Rosamund discovered she was pregnant in February of last year. The baby was due around Martinmas. Strangely, with both Andrew and Mary she had difficulty in carrying them, but easy births. With her third child, it was exactly the reverse. She was well and happy throughout the entire nine months, with Eudo dancing attendance on her every minute of the day. To give him his due, I have never seen a man more delighted at the prospect of becoming a father, although I could not rid myself of the notion that he saw the coming child as a means of silencing much of the rumour and gossip which, even after two years, still persisted about him. But then, at the last, it all went wrong, and be lost not only his son, but his wife, as well. However,’ Grizelda continued cynically, ‘Rosamund’s death has left him a very rich man.’

‘No more,’ I pointed out, ‘than he has been from the moment he married her and became her lord.’

Grizelda wrinkled her nose. ‘I don’t think he had truly accepted, until that moment, that everything she had was his, yet another proof to me that he was not of gentle birth. He was too easily overawed by the power of money and by people such as lawyers. But after Rosamund’s death, all that changed. He began to realize just how wealthy he was.’ Her pleasant features hardened. ‘Unfortunately for him, the partnership between Sir Jasper and Thomas Cozin had, in law, been dissolved when the former died, but Thomas, out of the goodness of his heart, had continued to share the profits of the enterprise with his old friend’s daughter. But hardly was the funeral over, and Rosamund laid to rest, than Thomas announced his intention of doing so no longer. And that,’ Grizelda added, lowering her voice almost to a whisper, ‘was when I began to be afraid for the safety of my charges.’