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Edlyn experienced a flush of exultation, then one of the monks stepped out from the crowd and she sagged. Brother Irving, the monk in charge of the guest quarters, cast a sorrowful glance at her and waited until Lady Corliss nodded permission at him to speak. In a gentle voice, he said, “Lady Edlyn has been sneaking out at night.”

No one said a word, but all gazes turned back to her. The group of strange men exchanged glances, and Edlyn held on to the bench with both hands. She would not leap to her own defense. She would not.

“Where has she been going?” Lady Corliss asked.

“I worried about her, so I followed her,” Brother Irving said. “She went to the dispensary.”

Edlyn lost her struggle to maintain some dignity and bounded to her feet. “I only went when Wharton came and got me. Four nights! And why didn’t you say you were awake?”

Brother Irving cleared his throat. “I am not of noble blood, my lady. My father’s a baron, and I dare not speak out of place.”

Edlyn intercepted a disgusted look from Lady Corliss. She knew Brother Irving would be replaced as doorkeeper.

“Adda has something to say, too.” Lady Blanche pulled her stepsister out of the crowd. “Don’t you, Adda?”

Adda jerked her arm out of Lady Blanche’s hold. Sullen lines marked her face. “Nay. I have nothing to say.”

“What do you mean?” Lady Blanche cried. “Don’t you want to tell them how Lady Edlyn lied to you about the blood on her apron?”

“Nay.”

“What about the things you saw when you spied in the window of the dispensary?” Lady Blanche peered into Adda’s face. “Tell them about how Lady Edlyn held the man in her arms and gave him comfort.”

“He was unconscious.” Adda glared at Lady Blanche. “He didn’t even know.”

They’d been fighting again, Edlyn realized. Adda’s resentment for Lady Blanche occasionally bubbled over into the daily dealings of their lives. When Lady Blanche proved too querulous or demanded too much, Adda stubbornly refused to cooperate and a kind of war ensued.

“You saw them kissing one day.” Lady Blanche leaned forward and shook her finger in Adda’s face. “Tell them. Tell them, I say!”

“You made me stay out in the rain to spy on them.” Adda’s voice rose. “I’m not telling anything!”

Lady Blanche reached out and grabbed Adda’s wimple and a handful of hair and jerked. Adda went down on her knees with the pain, then twisted around and bit Lady Blanche on the leg. Lady Blanche fell. The crowd closed in, shouting encouragement as if they were fighting dogs.

Edlyn again thanked God for helping her make the decision she’d made eight years ago. It was the right one, she knew.

Lady Corliss didn’t say a word; she just walked over to the two older, dumpling-shaped women and stood above them. With last-minute hissing, the women halted their combat. Lady Blanche tried to stand and stumbled on her own hem, and Adda laughed nastily.

“She started it,” Lady Blanche said. “You saw that, surely.”

Lady Corliss remained quiet.

“You’re better to your laying hens than you are to me.” Adda got to her feet in slow stages.

“My laying hens are valuable,” Lady Blanche retorted. “Which is more than I can say about you.”

Lifting her hand for silence, Lady Corliss waited until the two women fixed their attention on her. “It would be better if you were separated until Saint Swithin’s Day.”

Betrayed into insolence, Lady Blanche said, “You can’t do that. Who will care for me?”

“You’ll both spend the time in isolation and in fasting,” Lady Corliss answered. “Neither of you will want for anything, for there is nothing you will be permitted to want.”

If ever Edlyn had wanted her revenge for the slights and insults, she had it now. The cherries in Lady Blanche’s cheeks faded as she thought of the days of loneliness and hunger she faced. And Adda, who showed an inbred skill for nosiness, looked only slightly less dismayed.

“For the rest of you,” Lady Corliss spoke to the crowd, “there are chores to be done and patients to be served. Please tend to your duties.” Every person there bulged with curiosity, but she conceded little when she said, “I will handle this matter alone.”

Abbot John stepped forward and spoke in her ear. She answered in equally low tones. He nodded, then turned to the crowd. “Didn’t you hear Lady Corliss? Disperse at once.”

They grumbled and glanced back longingly, but they did as they were told. All except the warriors, who moved to one side and waited.