Free House of Shadows by The Medieval Murderers

the guests’ refectory. We ate supper and sat talking until about the ninth hour, when Christina went to her chamber with her lady-in-waiting, as did Sir Roger and Lady Avisa. I stayed talking to Margaret and the prior for another hour or so. Eleanor insisted on sitting with us, rather to my annoyance, but eventually she left for her bed as well.’
    â€˜So you were with your favourite lady until quite late?’
    Again Jordan looked offended, a frequent mood of his, thought John.
    â€˜Not alone – it would not be seemly. Her handmaiden was there as a chaperone, as well as Prior Robert – and the two monks, Ferdinand and Ignatius, came and went on various errands.’
    As with the others, more questioning failed to extract anything useful from the dandified young fellow, and the coroner waited impatiently for the last of the guests to present herself.
    Margaret Courtenay dispensed with a chaperone, telling her maid to wait outside and firmly shutting the door on her as de Wolfe rose to greet her. A very self-possessed young woman, she was quite different from Eleanor Beaumont. A few years older, probably of twenty-one summers, she was a pretty blonde who fell just short of being beautiful. Strong character showed in her face, and her garments, just visible under a heavy cloak, were plain but elegant. She had a veil of heavy white silk over her head, but her fair curls peeped out of the front.
    Once again, John went through the familiar routine of questioning. She was the third daughter of a baron from the West Country and had been sent to Sempringham as a novice some years earlier to test her suitability for becoming a nun. This was where she met Christina, but when the latter left for Wirksworth Margaret abandoned any intention of taking the veil and returned home to her parents. She stayed at Wirksworth on a number of occasions, and it was here that she met Jordan de Neville. She made no secret of her aspirations to become his wife, but their plans had been ruined by the forced marriage insisted on by the higher powers.
    De Wolfe had left questioning her until the end, as she might well have been the last to see Christina alive. ‘You returned to your chamber later than her, I understand?’ he asked.
    â€˜I took the chance to be with Jordan a little longer,’ she said rather wistfully. ‘I thought it might well be the last time we could meet as single people. Christina was in bed when I entered the chamber next door to say goodnight. At least, her maid, who was sleeping in the outer part, whispered that she thought her mistress was already asleep.’
    â€˜And you went to your couch yourself then? Did anything wake you that night?’
    Margaret shook her head. ‘Nothing, and neither did my maid hear anything from her outer room – though she sleeps like a log, so nothing would disturb her,’ she added disdainfully.
    De Wolfe grunted, to cover his frustration at being unable to get anything useful from all these folk. ‘You knew Christina for some years. Have you any reason to think that someone would wish her dead?’
    She dropped the lids over her blue eyes. ‘Only the obvious ones, Sir John,’ she said very quietly.
    â€˜I crave your pardon, Mistress Courtenay, but it is not that obvious to me,’ he rumbled.
    Margaret looked up again, almost defiantly. ‘Sir Roger and his wife have always been very good to me, having me to stay at Wirksworth. I would not wish to defame them, but surely everyone knows that he would lose a great deal – including his further expectations – concerning the lands that would have come to Christina on her sixteenth birthday, if this marriage had gone ahead.’
    De Wolfe thanked her for her frankness and suggested that she remain while he asked her maid a few questions. However, there was nothing that this young woman could add, as she merely repeated Margaret Courtenay’s account of that last