The afternoon was well advanced by the time Susanna, Jennet, Lina and their hired escort rode through Bermondsey on their way to London. They did not go near Willow House. Susanna reckoned that if Rob’s fears for his wife were not exaggerated, and she did not believe they were, it would be exceeding unwise for Lina to be seen there, even in disguise. Instead, they continued on along the old Roman road they’d been following since Canterbury, five miles north of Leigh Abbey. Watling Street ran almost straight and was much traveled. It rose sharply as it passed the church of St Olave to enter Long Southwark.
Once across London Bridge, they still had some distance to travel to reach Blackfriars, where Sir Walter Pendennis, Rosamond’s stepfather, kept lodgings. A friary in the days before King Henry broke with Rome, the precinct retained one important feature claimed by religious houses – it was free from the jurisdiction of city authorities. Lina should be safe from arrest once they were inside the walls of this nine-acre enclave.
Their party entered from Carter Lane through what was known as the New Gate, passing the parish church of St Anne with its small, detached burial ground. Blackfriars was home to people of the highest rank and the artisans who served them, including a fencing master and a printer. Amid the houses, gardens, and tenements there was even an indoor playhouse where the Children of the Chapel, a company of boy players, performed. The wealthiest residents of the precinct were Lord Hunsdon and Lord Cobham, who had fine, fair houses with private gardens and wood yards. Walter’s two comfortably appointed chambers were located above what had once been the monks’ buttery.
After Susanna dispatched their hired escort to see to the horses, she led Jennet and Lina toward a door near the north end of the former cloister. Lina drew back, unnerved by the sight of a gallery built over the Fleet River to connect the building they were about to enter to the imposing structure on the opposite bank.
‘That is Bridewell Prison,’ she whispered.
‘It is,’ Susanna agreed, ‘but it was once a royal residence, and access to a religious house was thought to be convenient.’
These days, Bridewell housed vagrants and bawds instead of royalty, but Susanna felt certain they had nothing to fear from its proximity. Still, it would be foolish to dawdle in the open. ‘Come along, Lina. The sooner you are inside and out of sight the better.’
By the time Susanna reached the top of the narrow flight of stairs leading to Walter’s rooms, she was a trifle out of breath. She had avoided long journeys for the last two or three years. After this jaunt, she felt the effects of their long hours on the road in every muscle and joint. When she could speak without wheezing, she rapped on the door.
‘Jacob Littleton! Are you there?’ Littleton was Sir Walter’s man and looked after these lodgings in his master’s absence.
‘Who is it?’ a voice called back from the other side – a feminine voice.
‘I am Lady Appleton, a good friend to Sir Walter and his wife.’
The door opened to reveal a sturdy female holding a broom, although whether for defense or because she had been sweeping was not immediately clear. Rheumy eyes full of trepidation looked their little party up and down. She hesitated a moment longer and then stepped back to allow them to enter. She was the housekeeper, Susanna surmised, and tried to remember if either Walter or Eleanor had ever mentioned her name. If they had, she could not recall it.
‘Where is Jacob Littleton?’ she asked
‘Gone to Westmorland, madam, on business for Sir Walter. I am Molly.’ Belatedly, she bobbed a curtsey. ‘I look after Sir Walter’s rooms when his man’s away.’
‘We will be staying here for a few days, Molly,’ Susanna told her. ‘You need not trouble yourself about us, other than to buy food, and I will give you money for that.’
‘Yes, madam.’ Molly glanced out the window at the gathering dusk. ‘If you want aught to eat this night, I’d best go now.’
Susanna handed over a few coins and sent her off on her errand.
Jennet and Lina had already gone ahead into the bedchamber, leaving Susanna to examine the front room. It had changed little since the first time she’d seen it. It still smelled of marjoram, strewn in the rushes on the floor, and the space was still dominated by a large writing table. A second smaller table and a chair were in their accustomed places beside the window. The chair’s blue velvet upholstery was faded now, the gilt trim a little tarnished, and it was missing the bright yellow cushion Walter had liked to tuck into the small of his back.
Lina returned from the inner chamber. ‘There is only one bed and it is passing narrow.’
Unless Walter had replaced it, he had a boarded bed on four short legs with a shelf at the head to hold books and candles. Susanna was not best pleased herself at the prospect of sharing a bed with both Jennet and Lina. The younger woman was a restless sleeper and Jennet had a tendency to kick. She told herself they could do far worse.
‘Think of the poor women in Bridewell,’ she advised Lina. ‘Those fortunate enough to have a bed at all sleep on pallets of straw on the cold stone floor.’
‘I do not see why we cannot stay in Bermondsey.’
‘You know why, Lina. Willow House has already been searched once. They were looking for you. Do you think they have given up?’
Lina sulked. ‘That was Lawrence. My brother. Why should he bother to return?’
‘Because Isolde believes with all her heart that you killed her husband. I would not put it past her to have someone watching Rosamond’s house. Surely you do not want to be arrested.’
Lina scraped the toe of her boot through the rushes, intensifying the smell of marjoram in the air. ‘I need to talk to Rosamond. That is why I came back to London.’ Her lip trembled, a sure sign she was on the verge of tears.
Another bout of crying was more than Susanna could tolerate. Lina’s complaints had begun to try her patience, especially when they were coupled with her insistence that she could only confide her great secret to Rosamond.
Before the first tear could make its way down Lina’s cheek, Susanna seized her by the arm, hauled her over to a box-seated chair and pushed her into it. She dragged the other, more comfortable chair away from the window for herself and sat facing the young woman while Jennet took up a position by the door, ready to sound the alarm when Molly returned.
‘This has gone on long enough. Whatever you have been holding back cannot be so very terrible. If you are prepared to share it with Rosamond, then surely you can tell me what it is.’
‘You will not understand.’
‘That may be true but it scarce matters. Out of a genuine desire to help you, I have put Rosamond at risk. I have every confidence in my foster daughter’s ability but now that it appears you have left out some crucial part of your story, I am deeply concerned for her safety.’
Susanna blamed herself for not being harder on Lina from the beginning. She’d been too quick to assume that everything the young woman told her was true.
‘Did you kill Hugo Hackett?’
‘No! I did not lie about that!’
‘What did you lie about, then? No crying!’ she warned when Lina’s face began to work. ‘You are going to tell me everything right now. No excuses. Do you understand?’
Lina managed a nod.
‘Good. Just blurt it out, Lina. You will feel better once you’ve confessed.’
‘I married him!’ She buried her head in her hands.
Jennet gasped. Susanna frowned. ‘Married who? Tommaso?’
Lina’s voice was barely audible. ‘Alessandro. We were betrothed per verba de presenti.’
This unexpected announcement took Susanna aback but not for long. ‘Has the marriage been consummated?’
‘No.’ Lina sniffled. ‘There was to be a wedding in the parish church and a grand celebration afterward. Alessandro was going to hire players to entertain the guests with a comedy and bring in the city waits to provide music for dancing.’
With an effort, since she was not feeling all that charitable toward Lina, Susanna gentled her voice and leaned closer. ‘That is not the whole story, is it? There is still something you are hiding. You need not fear to confide in me, my dear. I will not condemn you, no matter what you have done.’
Lina burst into tears.
With a sigh, Susanna waited out the deluge. She provided a handkerchief, ignored Jennet’s muttering, and tried not to let her imagination run wild. What had this foolish young woman done to cause her such distress?
It took far too long for Lina to regain control of herself, but eventually she managed it. She swallowed convulsively and whispered, ‘I suppose I must tell you everything.’
‘There is no help for it, Lina, and I do much doubt your sins are as terrible as you imagine.’ Susanna hoped her bracing tone and encouraging words would lend the younger woman strength.
‘I know the difference between a betrothal de futuro and one de presenti.’ A tiny smile flashed and was gone. ‘You took care that all the girls in your care understood England’s laws on marriage. I knew what I was doing when I signed the marriage contract with Alessandro Portinari. I read it and I saw it was de presenti and I was glad of it, although I did not tell Hugo or Isolde that I was aware of what those Latin phrases meant.’
‘Why were you glad?’
‘Alessandro is old and far from toothsome but he is rich. When we met, he was kind to me and pleasant to be with – he made me laugh – but I agreed to marry him because he promised me all the things I most wanted. Once we were wed, he was going to set me up as a silkwoman. I would have had my own income then.’
‘You would not be the first woman to marry an old man for his money,’ Susanna said. ‘Nor the first to have second thoughts and cry off.’
Lina drew in a shuddering breath. ‘I thought … I thought he was too old to demand a husband’s rights in the bedchamber. I thought I’d not have to do more than entertain him with conversation and play at cards and dice.’
Enlightenment dawned. ‘And then you heard, from his neighbor, that he was in the habit of visiting brothels.’
Her face a mask of misery, Lina nodded. ‘And worse than that, she told me he was diseased and that if I married him I would also be infected with the French pox.’
‘And that is why you told Hugo you would not marry him?’
Lina nodded.
Susanna sent the younger woman a quizzical look. Nothing she had so far confessed was so very terrible. Then the light dawned. ‘How does Tommaso Sassetti fit into this tale, Lina? Why is it his ring and not Alessandro’s that you wear?’
Color flooded into Lina’s face. She could not meet Susanna’s eyes. ‘You will despise me when I tell you.’
‘I promise I will not think less of you if you will just tell me the whole truth.’ Hiding her impatience, Susanna reached across the small distance between them to take Lina’s ice-cold hands in her own. ‘You have come this far. Finish your tale.’
‘I love Tommaso. I knew it the first time I set eyes on him. But it was already too late for us. We did not meet until after the marriage contract was signed.’
Susanna rubbed one finger over Lina’s gimmal ring. ‘You thought you could have it all,’ she murmured. ‘A rich, elderly husband and a vigorous young lover.’
‘I know it was wrong to want such a thing, but what choice did I have? I could not escape the marriage, and I could not give up my beloved Tommaso.’
‘Tommaso himself did not object?’
‘He … he thought we would be able to marry if only we could convince Hugo to break the contract. Tommaso did not know it was de presenti. I thought … I thought that after the wedding I could make him see reason. We were meant to be together. I knew it and Tommaso did, too.’
Or said he did, Susanna thought. Lina had been both greedy and stupid and some would say she deserved to be forced into marriage with Portinari.
Susanna felt sorry for her. She understood now why Lina had been so desperate to flee Hugo Hackett’s house. To be final and irrevocable, her marriage to Alessandro Portinari had to be consummated. That consummation could have been arranged, with or without Lina’s cooperation, so long as Hackett and Portinari were in agreement.
Unfortunately, everything Lina had just confessed to gave her even more reason to kill Hugo Hackett. Rob had said Rosamond suspected Alessandro Portinari of the crime but to Susanna it sounded as if the Florentine silk merchant would have had every reason to keep Hugo alive, especially if Hugo had sent word to him of Lina’s change of heart.
On the morrow, she decided, they must hold a council of war. Surely if they put all the bits and pieces they knew together, the name of the real murderer would emerge.