‘Cuckoo-pint is not poison,’ snapped Ursula defensively. ‘It just has harmful effects on people in certain conditions. I hated Flaxfleete, but I am not so foolish as to kill him in so obvious a manner. Besides, I heard the toxin was in a wine keg, and while I detest guildsmen with a passion, it would be lunacy to murder them all. I would hang, because unlike Flaxfleete, I cannot claim benefit of clergy.’
‘Neither did he,’ Michael pointed out. ‘He was acquitted by a secular court.’
‘Only because there was an outcry from decent folk when he demanded a Church trial. Quite rightly, Gynewell refused to do it. But God struck Flaxfleete down for his wickedness anyway.’
‘God had nothing to do with it,’ said Michael. ‘It was a human hand that put poison in his wine.’
‘Well, it was not mine, and it was not my brother’s,’ stated Ursula firmly. ‘You can search our house from cellars to attics, and you will find nothing to prove us guilty.’
After Ursula’s impassioned declaration, there was an uncomfortable silence, so she went to see what was taking her brother so long. Bartholomew stood in the window, staring across the cobbled street to the corn market, wondering what he would do if Spayne refused to help him. He thought about his own sister’s delight when he had returned from France in October, and how he had been touched by the warmth of the welcome provided by his Michaelhouse colleagues. He had been missed by family and friends, and it had been good to see them again. Would he be content to keep his promise to Michael, and return to the College that had been his home for so many years, or would he always be wondering whether one more journey might earn him what he really wanted?
‘What can I do for you, gentlemen?’ came a deep voice from the doorway.
Mayor William de Spayne was a man who commanded attention. He was tall, well muscled and his thick, red-gold hair and beard were neatly trimmed. His eyes were brown, and the combination of dark eyes and fair curls served to render him outstandingly attractive. His clothes were expensive and well cut, but it was his quiet dignity that set him above the other Lincoln merchants. The moment he walked across the room to greet his guests, Bartholomew understood exactly why Matilde had allowed herself to be courted by such a fellow.
‘We have come from Cambridge,’ said Michael, when Bartholomew said nothing. ‘One of our dearest friends was Matilde-’
‘Do not speak that name!’ cried Ursula, coming to take her brother’s arm protectively as a stricken expression crossed his face. ‘Not in our house. Is this who you meant when you said we had a mutual acquaintance? I would never have invited you in if I had known.’
‘She was … a … ’ Spayne suddenly seemed unable to speak coherently.
‘Will loved Matilde, but she accused me of poisoning that woman I was telling you about,’ said Ursula.
‘The older Christiana de Hauville was betrothed to one of my most bitter rivals,’ explained Spayne in a voice that was unsteady. ‘Ursula was accused of bringing about her death, because Lady Christiana’s demise meant Kelby lost his future wife.’
‘He lost her dowry, too,’ said Ursula spitefully. ‘And that is what really annoyed him.’
‘And his heir,’ added Michael. ‘The dead child is said to have been his, too.’
‘But Christiana did not tell me about that,’ said Ursula bitterly. ‘Her death was not my fault!’
‘All right,’ said Michael. ‘We believe you. However, I fail to see what this has to do with Matilde.’
‘Christiana was Matilde’s friend, and it was Matilde who made the fuss about her death,’ said Ursula resentfully. ‘The whole affair was extremely unpleasant.’
‘Matilde is not … ’ Spayne whispered, blood draining from his face as something occurred to him. ‘You have not brought me bad news about her … health?’
‘She was well when we last saw her,’ said Michael. ‘And as lovely as ever.’
Spayne closed his eyes in relief. ‘Thank God,’ he muttered. ‘I could not bear it if she … But you must forgive me. I did not know you came here to talk about Matilde, and hearing her name after so long has been a shock. I… Matilde and I… ’ ‘Will believed she would consent to be his wife,’ said Ursula, when he faltered into silence. ‘But she refused him, and left Lincoln the following day. He tried to find her, but she once said she would never be located once she had gone, and she was right. So, she went to Cambridge, did she?’
‘I went to all the places where she had kin,’ said Spayne softly. ‘None had heard from her in years, so I was forced to concede defeat. Is she happy in Cambridge? I hope she is happy.’
‘I think she was,’ said Michael, when Bartholomew still said nothing. ‘But she is no longer there.’
Spayne’s expression was sad. ‘I shall not go after her, Brother. Her abrupt disappearance made it clear that she wanted to sever all ties with me, and I respect her wishes. She is a kind, good woman, and I feel myself honoured that she befriended me for a while.’
