14 - The Burgundian's Tale by Kate Sedley Page B

and his mother had lived with my first husband and myself from the time of his birth until he was six years old, when Veronica decided to go with the Lady Margaret to Burgundy.’
    ‘You were expecting his arrival?’
    ‘Yes, but not until yesterday. I knew that he would accompany the Dowager Duchess on this visit to London. He had written to tell me so at the beginning of December.’
    ‘But he turned up much earlier?’
    ‘At the beginning of March. He had come to tell me … tell me …’ Judith’s breath caught momentarily in her throat and she seemed to be in the grip of some powerful emotion. However, she took a deep breath and steadied herself. ‘Fulk had come to tell me that my sister was dead. She had died shortly after Christmas. He had intended coming earlier, he said, but the Duchess had been too upset to spare him immediately. Except for those six years when she lived with me, Veronica had been with my lady ever since she was a child.’
    I nodded, choosing my next words carefully. ‘You … You became very fond of your nephew, I’ve been told.’
    After a brief hesitation, Judith answered in a restricted voice, ‘Very fond.’
    It was my turn to hesitate. ‘Perhaps unwisely fond?’ I ventured at last.
    Her chin went up defiantly. ‘Some might think so. In fact,’ she added candidly, ‘nearly everyone thought so, and didn’t refrain from making their opinions public. Roland and Lydia Jolliffe. Martha Broderer and her son, Lionel. My stepson, whom you met downstairs. Even my housekeeper had the gall to give me a piece of her mind.’
    ‘And you?’ I asked. ‘What did you think of your conduct?’
    The rain had ceased, as springtime showers do, as abruptly as it had started. I could hear the birds begin to sing again in the garden. The logs crackled on the hearth, but for a few protracted seconds there were no other sounds in the room. I wondered if I had been too impertinent. Even Bertram had stopped fidgeting on his stool.
    Then Judith gave a sudden crack of laughter. ‘If you knew me better, you wouldn’t ask such a question. I never query my own actions. Only weak people do that. It’s the sign of a vacillating mind.’ She drummed her fingers against the arms of her chair. ‘As soon as I saw Fulk again, I recognized him for what he was: the son I never had. Veronica was my twin. We were born within a few minutes of one another. There had always been a very close and very strong bond between us. As girls and as women, it had been an unwritten rule that we helped each other out of trouble. And although I hadn’t seen her for nearly twelve years, that bond had never been broken. When Fulk told me the news of her death, it was like a blow to the heart; yet I wasn’t altogether surprised. I had been feeling low in spirits and extremely melanchoy since Christmas without knowing why. Then, of course, I understood: somehow, the fact of her death had communicated itself to me. The thread of twinship that had joined us all our lives had at last been cut. I was alone.’
    ‘Except for Fulk.’
    She nodded eagerly. ‘Yes, except for my nephew. He was the link that made her death bearable. He looked like her, too. Which meant he also looked like me. And now …’ This time, Judith was unable to recover her poise so easily.
    I finished for her. ‘And now Fulk’s dead, as well.’
    ‘Yes.’ The word was barely audible; a sigh of grief, a breath of air. She raised one hand to her mouth.
    ‘Then we must find his killer,’ I said gently. ‘Don’t you agree?’
    She gave a little snort of laughter. ‘Where will you start? Thanks to my folly – oh yes, I can admit now that it was folly, although I would probably do it all over again – you’re not short of suspects.’
    ‘That’s true … Mistress St Clair, was it you or was it your nephew who made your intentions in regard to your new will general knowledge?’
    ‘Those sorts of things can’t be kept secret for long,’ she answered