“Oh, aye, when he hears what I will say to him. Do not let her leave the room.”
Blanche was back in moments, a furious Edmund on her heels. He did not like having his dinner interrupted, but the mention of Constance had made him follow the presumptuous servant girl. Once in the room, he slammed and bolted the door behind him, his eyes on Constance, ignoring the nervous looks of the two maids.
“So, my sweet Constance, you did not die after all.” Edmund put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to meet his. He saw only resignation there. Her bruises marred her beauty, but she would heal. “Those eyes,” he whispered. “They have haunted me for a long time.”
He heard a noise behind him and turned to see the two maids trying to sneak the bolt from the door. “Here!” he commanded and grabbed the arm of the nearest one, Gladys. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To our duties, my lord,” Blanche said, her voice unsteady. “We are your most loyal servants.”
Gladys had tears in her eyes as Edmund’s fingers bit into her skin. She tried to pry his fingers loose.
Edmund flung the girl to the floor. “Did you think you could bring her here and leave her like so much baggage? Where has she been?”
Blanche and Gladys exchanged glances. They hadn’t thought of this. All they wanted to do was get Constance away from Jocelin. They wanted things the way they once were, with Jocelin teasing them, making love to them.
“I—I don’t know, my lord,” Blanche stuttered.
“You think I’m a fool?” Edmund said and advanced on her. “The girl has been well hidden, or I would have known of her. Her presence has not been part of the castle gossip.”
“No, my lord, she…” Blanche could not think fast enough to create a story. Her tongue tripped her.
Edmund stopped, then looked at Gladys cringing on the floor. “There is something to this story that you hide. Whom do you protect?” He grabbed Blanche’s arm and twisted it painfully behind her back.
“My lord! You hurt me!”
“I will do more than that if you lie to me.”
“It was Baines of the kitchen,” Gladys said loudly, wanting to protect her friend.
Edmund released Blanche’s arm as he considered this. Baines was a thoroughly disliked man, foul, evil-tempered, he knew that. But Edmund also knew Baines slept in the kitchen. He had no privacy, certainly not enough to hide a battered girl until she was healed. It would have caused talk throughout the castle.
“You lie,” Edmund said in a deadly voice, then advanced slowly on her.
Gladys cringed away from him, half-crawling across the rushes. “My lord,” she said, every fiber of her body trembling.
“It is your last lie,” he said as he grabbed her about the waist. She started struggling when he saw him carrying her toward the open window.
Blanche stared in horror as Edmund carried the fighting Gladys. When they reached the window, Gladys held her arms out against the framework but she was no match for Edmund’s strength. He gave one push at the small of her back and she fell forward, clutching at the air. Her scream, as she fell three stories to the courtyard below, seemed to make the walls tremble.
Blanche could only stare, her knees turning to water, her stomach heaving.
“Now,” Edmund said as he turned back to Blanche. “I wish to know the truth. Who kept her?” he nodded toward Constance who stood silently against the wall. Edmund’s murder of Gladys had not shocked Constance; it was what she had expected.
“Jocelin,” Blanche whispered.
At the name, Constance’s head came up. “No!” She could not bear for Jocelin to be betrayed.
Edmund smiled. “That pretty singer?” He was the one who took her that night—a fact Edmund had forgotten. “Where does he sleep that he could keep her unnoticed?”
“Above the stables in the loft.” Blanche could hardly speak. She kept looking at the window. Only a moment before, Gladys had been alive. Now her body lay broken and crushed on the pavement.
Edmund nodded at Blanche’s answer; he knew the truth when he heard it. He took a step toward her and she cringed away from him, her back to the door.
“No, my lord, I told you what you wanted to know.” He kept coming toward her, a slight smile on his face. “And I brought you Constance. I am a true servant to you.”
Edmund liked her terror; it proved that he was strong. He stood close to her, reached a fat hand to caress the line of her jaw. There were tears in her eyes, tears of fear. Even as he struck her, he smiled.
Blanche fell to the floor, her hand on the side of her face, her eye already turning purple.