“I believe you stole the wine and the tablecloth so no one would ever know what kind of poison you used. I think you added the poison to your wine yourself. I saw you drop something into your goblet. You just didn’t have time to keep Trist from licking it from the cloth.”
“Ah,” Severin said, and stroked his chin. “That is something that did not occur to me. Tell me, Eloise, why would Hastings poison her own wine?”
Eloise was standing very straight, her face white, her shoulders back. Marjorie was looking down at the sewing in her lap. She said nothing.
“Why, Eloise?” Severin asked again.
The child shouted, “Hastings knows you love Marjorie! She had to do something so you would pity her, so you would cease looking at Marjorie!”
Trist’s head appeared in the opening of Severin’s tunic. He stared at Eloise. The child backed up another step, nearly stumbling. Edgar the wolfhound growled again. “It’s true!” Eloise yelled. “I am not lying. I saw her put the poison in her own goblet!”
She ran from the great hall.
“Who,” Hastings said, still looking directly at Marjorie, “who stole the poisoned wine and the tablecloth?” And why, she wondered, as she walked up the solar stairs. All knew it was poison, so why steal it?
26
“WHY DID THE CHILD LIE?” SEVERIN ASKED LATER THAT day.
Marjorie looked straight at Severin. “She did not lie. She told me what she had seen right after you and Hastings ran from the great hall with the marten yesterday.”
“That is absurd,” Hastings said over her shoulder as she paced back and forth before Edgar the wolfhound.
“Then why did she not say anything to me?” Severin said.
Marjorie shrugged. “The child still frightens easily. As you know, her father abused her. Her mother treated her as if she were Satan’s get. She was afraid to say anything. She did not understand until later what Hastings had done. She thought nothing about it when she saw Hastings pour some liquid into the goblet. But later—” Marjorie shrugged again. “As I said, she was afraid.”
“I did not pour any liquid into my goblet,” Hastings said, still now, stiff as a pole. “That makes not a whit of sense. I would not kill myself. Does that also mean that I stole the wine and the stained tablecloth?” She was shaking her head. “I am the only one who could have possibly determined what kind of poison was in the wine.”
“Or the Healer,” Marjorie said.
Severin waved his hand for silence. “Tell me, Marjorie, when did Eloise say that Hastings had done this?”
“I do not know. It was near to the dinner hour, I suppose. Hastings, wait, I cannot allow you to hurt Eloise.”
Hastings whirled about, hands fisted at her sides. “Hurt her? Why would I hurt the child? I just want to talk to her.”
“Wait, Hastings,” Severin said, “both of us will speak to Eloise. I want to understand this.”
Trist balled himself up inside Severin’s tunic, mewling softly.
They did not speak to Eloise because they could not find her.
“Later, then,” Severin said. He lightly tapped his fingertip against Hastings’s nose. “The child is mistaken, worry not overly about it.”
“The child lied, Severin.”
“Aye, that is also possible. I must return to the practice field. Remember, I wish to speak to Eloise with you.”
He was afraid that she would hurt the child? Hastings pressed her hands against her belly. She felt a moment of dizziness. She grabbed the high back of Severin’s chair. She said nothing as she watched him stride out of the great hall. She walked slowly outside, down the deep, indented steps. The sun was bright overhead. The day should bring her contentment, but it didn’t.
Marjorie said from behind her, “You saved his marten. You gained more by doing that than by sipping the wine, becoming ill, and gaining pity for yourself.”
She turned to see Marjorie standing beside her, her glorious silver hair loose down her back, sunlight shifting through it. She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her. “What did you say, Marjorie?”
“If Eloise was right, and I do believe her, aye, I certainly do, then you gained more than pity. You saved that damned animal of his. After you dropped the goblet you allowed the marten to drink some of the poisoned wine. You took a chance, Hastings. A big one.”
“You honestly believe I would poison Trist? Marjorie, he could easily have died.”