Free The Midsummer Crown by Kate Sedley Page B

prepared to acknowledge was my guess. I went on: ‘You say you spent Friday night at Baynard’s Castle. Where did you all sleep?’
    Piers scratched his curly head. ‘I know Tutor Machin had a room of his own. If,’ he added derisively, ‘you can call it that. Have you ever slept in the castle, masters?’
    â€˜I have,’ I said feelingly, before Timothy had a chance to explain to this ignoramus that he knew the place like the back of his hand. ‘Some of those so-called rooms are smaller than a monk’s cell. And, believe me, I know what I’m talking about. I was once a novice at Glastonbury Abbey.’ Piers’s face lit with interest at this piece of information, so before he could start asking irrelevant questions, I hurried on: ‘You’re certain, are you, that the tutor had a separate room?’
    The boy gave me a withering stare. ‘Naturally I’m fucking sure,’ he answered, using the swear word coldly and deliberately as though to impress me with his manhood. ‘That was where his body was found, Saturday morning – stabbed through the heart and the door bolted on the inside.’
    Of course! I could have kicked myself for forgetting such an important fact. I must be more fatigued than I had realized. The long, hard ride yesterday and most of today, with very little sleep in between, had taken its toll,
    â€˜Right!’ I said briskly, trying to sound like a man in full command of his wits. ‘Where did young Fitzalan sleep? With Dame Copley?’
    â€˜When we were at home in Yorkshire, he did. But since we came here, to Minster Lovell, he had a chamber of his own. Sir Francis’s instructions. He said if Master Gideon was in training for knighthood, he couldn’t still be sharing a room with his nurse. Lord! What a squawk she set up! Said Master Gideon wasn’t strong, that she’d been entrusted with his welfare by Lady Fitzalan, that if anything happened to him she’d hold Sir Francis personally responsible. In the end, she wore the poor man down until he let her have the adjoining room. But at Baynard’s Castle, I don’t know where he slept, sir. Not with her, that’s for certain, because it was she raised the alarm the following morning when she discovered he was missing.’
    â€˜Does anyone know where he spent the night? Or where he had intended to spend the night?’
    Piers shook his head. ‘I don’t know. No one said anything to me. And after Tutor Machin’s body was found, the door of his room being locked and all, everything was confusion.’ He nodded at Timothy. ‘I expect Master Plummer can confirm that, sir, if he was there. Everyone was running about like chickens about to get the chop. Even my lord Gloucester put in an appearance, and someone told me they heard him telling Sir Francis it was a matter of the first urgency that the affair be cleared up, and swiftly. Then, the next day, I was sent down here to inform Sir Francis’s people what had happened. I suppose someone else must have been despatched to Yorkshire to give Sir Pomfret and his lady the terrible news.’
    â€˜And I,’ Timothy cut in bitterly, ‘was sent to Bristol to fetch you. But the lad’s right. There was so much panic, so much . . . as he says, so much confusion that I don’t think any of us had time to glean any details. I certainly didn’t. I left the castle on the Saturday afternoon, by which time, practically nothing was known except that Gregory Machin was dead and the boy missing, unable to be found.’
    I turned back to young Master Daubenay. ‘And where did you sleep on Friday night? In the common dormitory with the other male servants?’
    â€˜No, I did not!’ He was indignant. ‘Not with that stinking lot! I’ve explained to you, I don’t like sharing a bed with other people. I’d rather put up with a bit of discomfort