Servants came, presumably sent by Jehanne, to clear away the bath.
Galeran dressed and went out into the hall, head humming with weariness and tangled thoughts. He gestured and a servant brought ale. It had been foolish to avoid the midday meal, which was a time for the castle community to come together, so now he walked around and talked to some of the people.
There was no sign of Raoul. He, no doubt, was sensibly in bed with a cheerful, uncomplicated serving maid, one who'd be delighted to bear his child if God gave them one, since either the castle would pay her to raise it, or a good marriage would be arranged, or both.
Matters were somewhat simpler among the servant body.
But even there, adultery was not condoned. A man might accept a lord's child in the hope of favors, but he didn't want his fellow's cuckoos.
Galeran caught some strange looks. Doubtless everyone was wishing they'd been witness to the events in the solar. Doubtless they'd all kept their ears peeled back for sounds of a deserved beating being well delivered.
How dull they must all find this, and how puzzling.
They weren't the only ones to find it a puzzle. Trailed by his dogs, Galeran went in search of his steward, Matthew, who was most likely to have answers to some.
The man was at home in his small cottage within the bailey, but on demand he willingly accompanied Galeran to the walls, where they could talk in privacy.
"Yes, my lord?"
"How did Lowick come to be seneschal here?"
The solid, middle-aged man hitched his belt uneasily over his belly. "He came to visit, my lord. He was well known to all here, of course, so we had no hesitation about letting him in. Sir Gregory had died of that cough he had - truth to tell, he'd not flourished much after you left - and Lady Jehanne had been considering with your father whom to take on in his place. It seems that when she heard Sir Raymond was available, she gave him the post."
Galeran was trying to remember whether his seneschal, Sir Gregory, had been particularly ill when he'd last seen him. He had been the kind of man who always seemed to be coughing and spitting. Surely it wasn't possible, though, that he had been disposed of to make room for Raymond.
That was too deep a plot.
But like a blow it came to him that it had been Jehanne who had urged him to go on the Crusade. The plot, if it existed, could go back years, back even to the time of their betrothal.
No, not that far, for Lowick had married elsewhere. But his wife had died.
Another convenient death.
"Do you know when Lord Raymond's wife died, Mat-mew?"
The man flashed him an astute glance. Did everyone have these suspicions?
More to the point, was mere anything in them?
" 'Round about the time you left for the Holy Land, my lord."
"And what did she die of?"
"Some fever, my lord. According to Sir Raymond's men, who accompanied him here, she was never strong. She miscarried of four babes in the marriage. Rich, though. She brought some sturdy land with her, as I understand it, at a place called Beeston, but by the contract, if she had no children, the land reverted to her family. Sir Raymond did his best to get a child of her."
"He always was ambitious. . . ." Galeran had never had much to do with Lowick, but he knew his nature. He was brave and honorable, but also ambitious. Lowick was sure that his looks and warlike skills gave him a right to a high place in life, such as that of husband to Jehanne of Heywood.
When Lowick had flirted with Jehanne during his visits, Galeran had judged it was more to annoy him than to seduce her. He'd never made an issue of it. That would have sullied Jehanne's name, annoyed his father-in- law, and possibly brought it to a matter of arms. Which he probably would have lost, since in those days he'd been no match for a larger man.
He'd wondered sometimes if that had been Lowick's plan - to force a fight and kill him. Crude, but possibly effective.
Jehanne had never objected to Lowick's behavior, but Galeran had always assumed that her reasons had been similar to his own - a desire not to cause discord in the house. Having been her father's squire, Lowick was in many ways like a brother to her.