The Service of the Dead

Returning to the room, she crossed it and walked round the body, trying to gauge how badly the floor had been stained. Her stomach roiled with anger. He must be removed, and soon, so that Griselde could scrub down the floor in time for it to dry before tomorrow’s guest arrived. Fragrant oils in the wash water, and applewood in the brazier to both dry and sweeten the air. Perhaps first a brief fire of juniper and rosemary – their incense might mask the worst of it.

“God help us.” Kate turned to see William hesitating at the threshold, resting his gloved hands against either side of the doorway as if holding it up. He was a handsome man, of medium height, slender, wearing his fine clothes with grace.

“I thank you for arriving so promptly. Now come closer, cousin. Come see the trouble you have brought me.”

His first step was reluctant, and she thought he might stop there, just over the threshold, but suddenly he crossed to the body, crouched down, and touched the braided rope before turning away. “God’s blood.”

“We void our bowels as we die, did you not know?” she said. “How could you let this happen in my house, William? Did you expect trouble? Is that why you did not ask my permission to host this man?”

Her cousin rose slowly, staring all the while at the corpse, shaking his head. At last, tugging down on his jacket in a gesture of control, he met her eyes. “Who found him?”

That was his first thought, to wonder who had found the corpse? By the rood he would take care of this, and quickly. “Goodwife Griselde. What happened here, William? The chamber was reserved in your name. Who is this man?”

“My dear Katherine.” He stepped round the body to take her hand. “I am so sorry you have witnessed this.”

She shook off his gloved hand. “Why is a stranger lying dead on the floor of my house?”

“Do you think I planned this? Where is Alice?”

Kate noted his use of her first name. “Oh yes, the whore Alice Hatten. I do not know where she is. What I want to know at this moment is how she came to be in my house. You know the rules. You vowed to abide by them.”

“She is a good woman who has no other means of making her way in the world.” Alice had once served in his household, until he got her with child and Isabella threw her out.

“I know she is a good woman, William, no thanks to you. But we have a contract. You and Drusilla, no guests, no common prostitutes. You broke the contract. Now dispose of this body. Remove it at once!”

“She is not a common prostitute,” he growled.

“You broke our contract.”

He paced back and forth, eyeing the floor as if searching for something, then moved over to the bed, pulling off his hat, smoothing his hair as he studied the room. She had never seen him so agitated. “It does not look as if anyone slept here last night,” he muttered, more to himself than to her. He was right – the bedclothes had not been disturbed, though the dead man wore only a linen shirt and breeches. William moved past the bed, bent to retrieve a bowl from the floor, and sniffed. “Wine.” He kicked something on the floor. “The flask.” Both had been tossed aside as if there had been a struggle. Whatever happened here, it had occurred before they’d withdrawn to the bed, but after the man had removed his outer clothing. His jacket and cloak were folded on the bench at the foot of the bed, and his boots were on the floor.

Kate told William that Griselde thought she had heard two men’s voices. “His state of undress suggests your guest had a late, unexpected visitor.” While she spoke she watched William’s eyes, how he could not rest them, but kept searching the room. He was frightened. As if her gaze discomfited him, he stepped over to the window, putting his back to her. “What happened here?” he whispered, again as if to himself. “I told no one of his coming.”

“Who was he, William?”

He turned to her, shaking his head. “I would never knowingly cause you such trouble, Katherine. You must believe me.”

“Remove him. And say nothing of where you found him. If you involve me I’ll ruin you, William. You know that I can.”

“So much for familial loyalty.”

“You brought this trouble on me, cousin.”

He pressed his fingertips to his eyes, took a breath. “I did. Of course you are angry. Tonight, after dark, I will send someone for–”

“Before sext. By tonight the stink of the corpse will be worse. Bring something to wrap him in so that it looks as if you are carrying a tapestry, bed hangings – just remove him by midday, William. I have guests this evening in the other chamber and Lady Kirkby arriving tomorrow for a fortnight. You know how I depend on this income.”

“I cannot move him so soon.”

“You can, and you will. I must air the room, scrub the floor, and let it dry.”

“Someone must search for Alice. She might be in danger.”

“Yes, well, it is sweet that you have recovered your conscience. If she did not hate you yet, I trow she will have come to her senses.”

“That was long ago–”

“I will look for her. And when I find her, I will tell her you are going to pay her well for her silence. Which you will do, William.”