Cecily Kendall watched from the window of her lodgings as Rosamond, Lina, and Melka arrived at Alessandro Portinari’s dwelling in Lime Street. The old woman lifted one gnarled hand to her mouth, a gesture visible to Rosamond even in the gathering dusk.
‘Are you certain of your decision?’ Rosamond asked her friend. ‘It is not too late to change your mind.’
‘I am already married to Alessandro. There is no decision to make.’
‘Nor is there any need to spend your life in misery.’
Lina laughed. ‘What makes you think I will be miserable? As his wife, I can persuade him to freshen his breath with sweet-smelling washes and stop perfuming himself with civet. In return, he will shower me with gifts and set me up as a silkwoman. I believe I will find my life most tolerable.’
Rosamond was forced to accept that she could not change Lina’s mind. Mayhap her friend would find happiness as an old man’s plaything. Who was she to say?
‘Have you any other questions to ask me that you do not wish my dear husband to hear?’ Lina asked. They both knew that Portinari’s servants were even now reporting her arrival to their master.
There was only one Rosamond could think of, a minor point but one that had bothered her. ‘Why did you omit Alys when you enumerated the members of your sister’s household?’
‘Alys?’ For a moment, Lina looked as if she did not recognize the name. Then recognition dawned. ‘Do you mean that mousy little creature Isolde took in to do piecework? She never even crossed my mind, for you only asked me about servants and apprentices and she is neither.’ She frowned. ‘What will happen to her, I wonder, now that Hugo is dead?’
‘You need not trouble yourself about her,’ Rosamond said. ‘Someone has already taken her in.’
Before she could say more, Alessandro Portinari came out of his house to greet his wife. Rosamond studied him closely. His joy at seeing Lina appeared genuine. Mayhap he would be a good husband to her, after all.
She glanced again at the window of the house next door and sighed. Whatever her faults, Goody Kendall’s concern for Lina had been sincere.
‘I had best go reassure the widow that all is well,’ she said, inclining her head in the direction of the neighboring house. ‘Believing what she does about your betrothed, she is doubtless most upset at seeing you reconciled.’
‘That is kind of you.’ Portinari started to lead his bride inside.
‘You need not waste much time with her,’ Lina said over her shoulder. ‘She is naught but a meddling old busybody. Had she not interfered, I’d never have quarreled with Hugo and no one would have thought to blame me when he was killed.’
Would Hugo Hackett have been murdered at all without Widow Kendall’s interference? Rosamond wished she knew the answer to that question. Aloud, she said only, ‘She meant well.’
On the way up the stairs leading to Widow Kendall’s lodgings, Rosamond thought back to her previous visit. At the time, she had been seeking information about Alessandro Portinari and his nephew and confirmation of the story Lina had told her. She had thought some of the widow’s behavior odd but since her prejudices had provided useful information, she had not delved too deeply into their origins. Now she realized that there was a contradiction between Cecily Kendall’s fondness for Lina and her apparent belief that her young friend was guilty of Hugo’s murder.
The widow greeted the arrival of Rosamond and her maid with outright suspicion. ‘Who are you and what do you want?’ She did not rise from her post by the window. The servant who had admitted Rosamond and Melka hovered in the background, prepared to sound the alarm should anyone threaten her mistress.
Rosamond was taken aback by the old woman’s ferocity. She needed a moment to remember that she had been in disguise when last they met. Widow Kendall did not recognize her.
In the time it took to cross the room, Rosamond had to decide what approach to take. Admit to being Mistress Flackley? No. Claim to be a friend of Mistress Flackley’s and therefore the recipient of her confidences? No, not that either. A mixture of truth and lies would have to serve, substantiated by the fact that Cecily Kendall had just witnessed her arrival at Portinari’s house in Lina’s company.
‘I am Mistress Jaffrey. I am Lina Walkenden’s friend and in her confidence. She bade me come and assure you that she knows what she is doing.’
‘By giving herself into the keeping of that vile old lecher?’
‘Even so. It seems that you were mistaken in your assessment of Master Portinari’s, er, health.’
The old woman muttered something under her breath. Her gnarled hands twisted in her lap.
‘You acted out of kindness, madam, in repeating what young Roeloff saw, but he did not follow Portinari inside the … establishment. He could not possibly know what went on there.’
The widow gave a derisive snort and used the end of her walking stick to smack the stool pulled up close to her chair, the one upon which her bad leg had rested during Rosamond’s previous visit. ‘Sit down and explain yourself, Mistress Jaffrey, for I am far from convinced.’
Rosamond obliged and found herself at eye level with the old woman. The look Cecily Kendall sent her was rife with skepticism.
‘Suffice it to say that Lina wanted to marry Portinari from the first. I do not see his appeal myself, but for her his wealth alone is sufficient to blind her to any disadvantages in the match.’
The widow scowled. ‘I do not understand how any good Englishwoman could willingly tie herself to an Italian!’
‘He is a denizen of England.’
‘That makes no difference.’
Widow Kendall’s vehemence confirmed Rosamond’s earlier conclusion that her antipathy toward Portinari, at least in part, was because he was foreign-born. Or mayhap she thought he was a papist.
‘How can she ignore his visits to that bawdy house?’ the widow demanded.
‘He has promised he will never go there again. He means to be a faithful husband. As for your claim that he is infected with the French pox, he denies that utterly.’
‘And so he would, whether he has it or not!’
‘Someone familiar with the symptoms has confirmed that he is free of them.’
‘A physician? A barber-surgeon? A cunning woman?’
‘Black Luce herself, if you must know.’
Widow Kendall’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Do you expect me to take the word of a whore?’
‘It makes no sense for her to lie,’ Rosamond pointed out, ‘and as I feel certain young Roeloff must have told you, she runs an exclusive establishment. It would be exceeding bad for business if one of her girls caught the pox or any other disease from a customer.’
The widow snorted.
‘Her care for the reputation of her house is supported by her actions with regard to Hugo Hackett,’ Rosamond continued, warming to her topic. ‘As you know, he was with Master Portinari when Roeloff followed them to Black Luce’s. Hackett—’
‘How do you know that?’ Cecily Kendall interrupted. ‘I did not tell Lina about her brother-in-law. My only concern was to warn her away from the Florentine.’
‘Are you certain?’
Offended, the widow very nearly snarled at her. ‘I may be old but I have not yet lost my wits.’
Thinking back on what Cecily Kendall had confided to her when she had been Mistress Flackley, Rosamond realized the widow had not said she’d told Lina about Hugo Hackett’s visit to Black Luce. She’d said she’d told ‘her’ and Rosamond had assumed she meant Lina. She had also assumed that Widow Kendall believed Lina had killed her brother-in-law.
‘Who? Who did you tell?’
The old woman toyed with the lace at her wrists and did not answer.
‘You believe Hugo Hackett was stabbed to death because of the information you supplied. Do you believe Lina murdered him?’
‘I never thought that. Not for an instant. That girl would not harm a fly.’
‘But she is the one who has been accused of the crime. Even now, constables seek to arrest her and put her on trial. If she is convicted, she will be burnt at the stake.’
Cecily Kendall’s eyes brimmed with tears. ‘God forgive me. I meant no harm.’
‘You did nothing wrong.’ Rosamond leaned forward to take both of the old woman’s hands in hers. They were ice cold to the touch. ‘Who did you tell about Hugo Hackett’s visit to Black Luce?’
‘Isolde. I told Lina’s sister that her husband visited a bawdy house in Portinari’s company.’
‘When? When did you tell her?’ Rosamond hardly dared breathe as she waited for the answer.
‘The evening of the same day I warned Lina of her danger. I was certain she would be risking her life if she married him.’ The look of despair on Widow Kendall’s face wrenched at Rosamond’s heart.
‘You spoke up out of kindness. No one can fault you for that. But now you must tell me the rest. How did you come to confide in Isolde?’
‘She came here, furious with me for interfering in matters that she said were none of my concern. Her accusations were hurtful, and I lost my temper. Before I thought better of it, I gave in to the desire to prick her pride and told her what I had not shared with her sister, that her husband had not only gone to Black Luce’s brothel with Alessandro Portinari but that he had stayed on after Portinari left.’
‘Whereupon Isolde Hackett went home and confronted her wayward husband.’
Widow Kendall began to weep in earnest. ‘I fear she did more than confront him.’