The Deadliest Sin by Jeri Westerson

The Deadliest Sin by Jeri Westerson

Author:Jeri Westerson [Jeri Westerson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House
Published: 2021-08-09T00:00:00+00:00


SEVENTEEN

‘Someone stole it?’ cried Christopher before Jack shushed him.

‘Master Crispin means that there never was no corpse,’ whispered Jack. ‘That’s right, isn’t it, Master Crispin?’

‘Yes, Jack, you are correct. I don’t believe there was ever a corpse in the first place.’

‘But you thought she was murdered. Then … where is she?’ asked Christopher, still staring at the strange apparition. ‘Did they bury her somewhere else?’

‘You don’t understand,’ said Crispin. ‘Dame Audrey … is not dead.’

‘But … Crispin …’ said Christopher.

‘Is Elena Forthey still in the infirmary?’

‘As far as I know,’ said Jack.

‘You two bury this again. I’m going to talk to her.’

Christopher jerked forward. ‘Wait, Crispin! You can’t leave us here with all this without explanation.’

‘Christopher, that’s exactly what I am after. An explanation. If I don’t alarm Elena Forthey and awaken the whole priory, I’ll be back directly.’

Crispin hurried away, dusting his hands off on his cote-hardie, trying to relieve himself of grave dirt. His eyes traveled up that wall and he thanked God that he’d got his lockpicks back from Philippa.

He picked the lock even faster this time, and pushed the gate open slowly, wincing with its hinges’ soft whine. He closed it carefully so it wouldn’t slam shut with a breeze, and crept back toward the dorter through the shadows.

Elena Forthey had been under the infirmary’s window before. Might she still be there?

The night was mild. He reached the dorter and searched over its plastered surface at all the shutters above and below. Perhaps the window wasn’t latched … He pulled the shutter open and hauled himself up to the sill. His eyes adjusted and he saw that she was there below him. Grabbing hold of the sill, he pulled himself the rest of the way and climbed nimbly to the other side. Approaching her cot, he whispered to her, ‘Demoiselle. Demoiselle Forthey!’

She opened her eyes, focused them on Crispin, and opened her mouth to scream. He clamped a hand over her mouth. ‘It’s Crispin Guest. For God’s sake, do not scream.’

Her breath gusted over his fingers. Her eyes calmed and Crispin slowly pulled his hand away. ‘Forgive me.’

‘Master Guest,’ she gasped. ‘What are you doing here?’ She rose on her elbows, looking about. ‘At this hour?’

‘Er … how are you faring? You seemed in great pain when you arrived yesterday.’

‘I … I was. But … Dame Petronella ministered to me and I am much better. I will be leaving in the morn.’

‘Oh. That’s good. I am glad.’

‘Yes. So am I. Is … that what you came in the dark of night to ask me?’

‘Well … no.’ And now who was being hasty? He admonished Jack frequently that he jumped too quickly to act. ‘The fact of the matter is I need to ask you a question.’

‘It couldn’t wait till morning?’

Could it? He thought of the straw dummy packed into Dame Audrey’s coffin and shook his head. ‘No, it cannot. Demoiselle, you told me when I first met you that Dame Audrey being dead wasn’t possible. Why?’

She stared at him for several heartbeats.



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