Hugh grinned to himself, then quickly banished the expression. This was a serious business: Willa had endured a long and terrible day. As her husband it was his duty to help her through this troubled time. And he knew exactly how to do it. He would relax her with a nice leisurely soaking, helping her with the chore. Perhaps even joining her in it. That thought made him smile again. It had been little more than a few hours since he'd bedded his wife at the cottage, but the very idea of having her warm and wet in her bath was enough to perk him up greatly.
Hugh's smile remained in place until he opened his bedchamber door and strode in to find the room empty. Stopping dead, he searched every corner with his eyes, then opened his mouth and bellowed, "Willa!"
There was an immediate flurry of stomping feet from the hallway. Hugh turned to find Lucan, Jollivet and Lord Wynekyn standing in the doorway looking into the room with concern. Behind them, a swaying Baldulf was being held up by Eada. All of them had responded to his roar.
"Where is she?" Jollivet asked with alarm. "Where would she go?"
"She said she was going to lie down," Baldulf grumbled.
Hugh started to shake his head in frustrated bewilderment, then paused. "Willa did not answer my question," he realized suddenly.
"Which question was that, son?" Lord Wynekyn asked.
"When I asked her if she had seen who hit Baldulf. She started to answer, but then you discovered the letter and - Alsneta and Gawain," he breathed in sudden horror. "The kitchens."
Hugh nearly trampled the men in the doorway in his rush to get to his wife. He was positive she'd seen who had hit Baldulf. He was equally positive that she would not have told him who it was, not if it had been Alsneta. The mother of Luvena, the dear childhood friend who had died in her place. Uncle Richard could write that the child's death was not her fault, but Willa's very dislike of discussing the matter told Hugh the guilt weighed heavily upon her. She would not blame Alsneta for wishing her dead. Willa would empathize with her.
"I don't - I would never - " Alsneta floundered, then fell silent, guilt twisting her time-worn features.
"I saw you hit Baldulf, Alsneta," Willa told her solemnly. "And the scroll had the distinct scent of onions about it. I presume you have been hiding it in here somewhere?"
Alsneta's shoulders sagged.
Aware of the silence surrounding them, Willa glanced around the kitchen. Every last servant had stopped working and gone still as all strained to hear what was being said. Taking Alsneta's arm, Willa urged her to the door, leading out into the garden behind the kitchens. When she paused to face Alsneta then, the woman's eyes were awash with tears.
"I'm sorry," the cook blurted before Willa could speak again. "I never meant to harm you. I mean, of course I did at first. But I was just so angry. I had thought you - that day - they told me that both you and Luvena were dead. I had spent ten years grieving you both. You and Luvena were so much together, I had begun to think of you as my own. I lost my two babies that day." She turned and paced away, her hands twisting in her apron. "My babies."
"Alsneta." Willa followed and touched her arm sympathetically.
The cook turned, but shook her hand away. "Don't touch me. Don't be nice to me. I don't deserve it. And I won't be able to explain if you are kind and make me cry."
Willa withdrew her hand, her own eyes filling with tears. The woman did not appear to know it, but she was already crying. Silent tears were streaming down her face. "Very well."
Alsneta nodded, then blurted, "I wanted you dead."
Willa flinched, but remained silent, allowing Alsneta to continue.
"That's not true," she countered herself, then appeared confused and shook her head. "Nay. Not at first. When I thought you dead, I grieved for you as much as for Luvena. I had nothing more to live for. Days passed like years. Life was interminable. I considered suicide, but the priest said I would go to hell and never be with my Luvena and you again. Then Lord Richard's health began to fail. I spent most of my time in the kitchens, but the servants began talking about a beautiful young woman visiting him in his chamber. I was curious, but had no idea 'twas you.
"I was the one who found him. I had been bringing his meals up to him in his chamber since his health had begun to fail. I took his breakfast that morning as usual. I walked into the room and set the tray on the chest next to his bed. When I turned to look at him, I knew at once he had passed. His face was gray and slack, empty. He was clutching a scroll, and the name Willa was written on the outside. This bewildered me. Why would he die clutching a letter to a child who had died ten years earlier? I could not resist reading it.
"I could not believe what I read in the letter. He was addressing you as if you still lived, yet I knew you were dead. He had told me so himself. Then I read what he said about that day, that my Luvena had died in your stead, and that he thanked God for it." Her bitterness was obvious, and Willa's heart ached for the woman. But Alsneta lifted her head and continued determinedly. "Another servant entered then and I hid the letter in my clothes. I told her that the lord was dead and to send for Lord Wynekyn. Then I collected the tray I had brought and left, taking the letter with me. I read it countless times. Over and over. And each time I read that she had died in your place and he was grateful for it, I - "
She paused and took a deep breath, then gave her head a shake as if to clear away her anger. "Lord Wynekyn left to inform Lord Dulonget that he was now earl. I meant to return the letter while he was gone, but could not seem to let it go. Then Dulonget arrived and Lord Wynekyn behind him. I was quite busy with the wedding preparations, and every time I had a moment to slip away and return the letter, Lord Wynekyn was up there searching the room for it. Then you came." Her hands clenched at her sides. "I wasn't sent to help you that day; one of the young maids was. But I set her to work in the kitchen and went in her place. I had much to do, but I had to see for myself that you lived. I thought perhaps the letter was merely the rambling of a sick and dying man."
Her eyes returned to Willa, filled with a mixture of anger, grief, regret and sadness. "You had grown up to be so lovely... and now you were to marry the earl. While my baby lay rotting in a cold grave. I - " Her voice choked and Willa could stand it no more. She stepped forward, reaching out to comfort her. Alsneta quickly backed away.
"I hated you at that moment," she confessed with shame. "You lived while my child had died. You were lovely and happy and about to marry. I wanted you dead beside my daughter where you belonged. Where I had thought you had been all those years while I grieved for you. 'Twas all I could do to keep from choking you with my bare hands as I helped you dress. I had to smile and admire your lovely gown and your lovely hair and your lovely good fortune while inside the bile was eating me alive. It ate at me through the wedding, and the first part of the celebration, until I could stand it no more. I - " Her voice broke.
"You filled a pitcher with meade and poison and set it in our bedchamber." Both women gave a start as Hugh said what Alsneta could not.
"Husband!" Willa cried in alarm, then managed to force a smile. "I - "
"You are supposed to be in your room."
Willa flinched at his sharp tone. He was most definitely displeased with her. "Aye, but I came down to - "
"Confront the very person who has been trying to kill you since your arrival," he finished harshly, then turned on the cook. "Who was the man who attacked me in the clearing? Your lover?"
"The man in the clearing?" Alsneta asked with bewilderment. "I do not - "
"And who was it who set the cottage on fire today? Your lover was dead, so I presume it must have been you. Unless you have dragged your nephew into this mess?"
"Set the cottage on fire?" Alsneta gaped at him in horror for a moment, then drew herself up. "I know nothing of an attack in a clearing or setting a cottage on fire. I poisoned the meade that first night, aye. But..." She met Willa's eyes. "I regretted it the moment I saw you go above stairs."
"Not enough to rush up and keep her from drinking it," Hugh snapped.
Alsneta ignored him, her attention focused on Willa. "I nearly followed to confess all, but I was afraid. My only hope was that you would not be thirsty and would not drink it. I passed an awful night."
"Not as awful as mine," he muttered with disgust.
"I could not sleep, and what little sleep I got was haunted by Luvena berating me for harming someone she loved like a sister. I was glad when you came through alright, grateful it had not worked. I have not tried again to harm you, I promise. Though I could have. I have cooked every meal you have eaten here and could have seen you dead long ago had I wished it," she added in her own defense.
"Only it would have seen your nephew dead, since I made him the taster after the first poisoning," Hugh commented dryly.
Alsneta waved her hand in disgust at this suggestion. "Bah! Gawain. I have no affection for him. The possibility of his dying would hardly stop me had I wished Willa dead. He was an annoying little brat as a boy and is just as annoying as a young man. Gawain is spineless and greedy, a bad combination. He is always looking for the easy route, that one. I suggest you keep your eye on him. He would stab you in the back for a pair of shoes."
Hugh was silent for a moment, then said. "So you deny having anything to do with the fire at the cottage today, or the man in the clearing?"
"I started no fire. I would not even know my way to the cottage and clearing you speak of. I did not know the cottage existed." The cook drew herself up to face her misdeeds. "Nay. I had naught to do with either incident. But I am responsible for the poison. And taking the letter... and hitting Baldulf."
She looked chagrined and Willa asked, "Why did you hit Baldulf?"
Alsneta bit her lip. "I am sorry about that. I am sorry for everything. I shall have to apologize to Baldulf, as well. I did not mean to hit him so hard. I was just in such a panic. I had gone to the room to return the letter and finally found the chamber empty. I was attempting to find a spot to put it that Lord Wynekyn might not yet have looked. I had opened the shutters to see better, but they began flapping about, making a horrible clatter. I was rushing to close them when I heard you call out for Lord Wynekyn. I knew you must think him in the room and that you would come. I gave up on the shutters, tossed the letter on the bed and dashed to hide behind the door. I thought I was safe when you entered and headed straight for the shutters without spotting me. I was about to slip out of the room when I heard Baldulf calling your name. I feared I was lost, then. He would come in, the two of you would find the letter. One of you would see me." She shrugged. "I panicked. I grabbed a candle holder off the table beside me and the moment Baldulf was far enough into the room, I koshed him over the head and fled."
"Whom did you steal the letter for?" Hugh asked.
Willa glanced at her husband in surprise, then realized that he must have arrived after Alsneta had explained about the letter.
"I stole the letter for myself."
"Do not lie to me!" Hugh said harshly. "Whom did you steal it for? Is it Garrod you work for?"
Alsneta drew herself up stiffly. "I did not steal it. Certainly not for the man who killed my daughter. I took it to read myself."
Hugh was staring at the cook with uncertainty. Suspecting she knew the source of his confusion, Willa said, "Luvena was schooled with me when we were children. Papa Richard allowed it so I would have company. 'Tis how we became friends." Hugh looked at her questioningly. "She... we used to teach Alsneta what we learned each day while she fed us sweet treats in the kitchen. Alsneta can read."
"I see." His shoulders lost their tension. He rubbed wearily at his neck, then turned his gaze to Alsneta, his expression was grim. "So you did not steal the letter and try to kill my wife for Garrod?"
Willa winced at the anger she heard in his voice. Stepping forward, she placed her hand on his arm, giving him a pleading look. "She was upset, my lord. Alsneta thought I had died with Luvena. The letter revealed that Luvena died in my stead. She was..." Willa gave a helpless shrug. "Alsneta was overcome by grief. Her thinking was unclear. She is sorry. No harm was done. You cannot punish her for - "
"No harm was done?" Hugh gaped at her. "She nearly killed you! You vomited all over my lap. We could not manage the bedding until the following night."
Willa rolled her eyes at these complaints. At least the last two. "Aye, my lord, I nearly died. But I did not. And - " She paused, then asked, "I vomited in your lap?"
"Aye." His grimace told her that it had been a most unpleasant experience and Willa felt herself blush with embarrassment. Then she shrugged such trifling concerns away and repeated, "She is sorry."
Hugh stared at her with bewilderment. "Willa, she - How can you forgive her so easily?"
Willa let her hand slip away from his arm and ducked her head, then said, "Because Luvena did die in my place. I was the one who wished to sneak out that day. It was a beautiful spring day. Luvena would only agree if she could wear the new gold gown Papa Richard had given me before he left for the coronation. She died in my place and I have borne the guilt of that for more than ten years. I have even, on occasion, wished I had been the one who died that day."
Hugh grabbed her hands in a painfully tight grip, drawing her gaze to his face. Willa managed a sad smile. "You heard the letter, my lord. Papa was grateful that it was Luvena and not me. How then could Luvena's mother not be bitter for the same reason? All these years she thought we had both died. She grieved for us. Then, quite suddenly, she learned that I lived, her daughter had died in my place, and I was to marry and be her mistress. How could she not wish me dead, too? If only for a moment?"