The Riddle of St Leonard's Read Free

hospital. A sinner amongst them would be reported, I am certain.’
    ‘Tell me about this woman.’
    ‘Fair and fond of men they say. Her husband went to fight for the King and has not returned.’
    ‘How did she come to the hospital?’
    Ravenser rose, moved behind his chair, leaned his elbows on its back, shook his head. ‘This is all unnecessary. But if anyone is to blame it is my cellarer, Don Cuthbert, he who is in charge when I am away. He believes it his mission to give sinners a second chance. When Mistress Staines came to him and expressed her vocation, he thought it his Christian duty to accept her. I commended him for it.’
    Was Ravenser so naïve? ‘I suppose she made a small donation to convince him?’
    ‘To Cuthbert that would not matter.’
    ‘I do not recall this saintly man.’
    ‘You would have no reason. He is rarely away from St Leonard’s.’
    ‘And there is nothing in this accusation that she still invites men to her bed?’
    ‘Not unless she shares them with the other lay sisters at their house, no, Your Grace.’ Ravenser’s voice rose slightly.
    ‘You feel bullied. But you did not consider the potential gossip, did you? Have you encouraged Cuthbert to be so bold with other choices?’
    ‘No others have come to my attention.’
    Someone else’s duty to notice. An ill-advised attitude. ‘What of the comment about the hospital’s financial straits?’
    Ravenser wiped his brow. ‘You know of that problem, Your Grace. But how it has become common knowledge …’ he shook his head.
    Thoresby considered his nephew. Should he give him advice or let him swim upriver on his own?
    Ravenser cleared his throat. ‘I have sent a request to the Queen for an audience. I will ask her permission to ride north to see what I might do to quiet this talk.’
    Excellent. There might yet be a higher post for the man.
    Ravenser drew out a letter. ‘There is more. My almoner, a man I trust, has told me of another rumour.’ He handed the item to Thoresby.
    The archbishop read Don Erkenwald’s missive in which he warned Ravenser of talk of deaths that conveniently eased the hospital’s expenses. Thoresby gave his nephew his sternest look. ‘You swear this is merely a rumour?’
    Ravenser put his head in his hands. ‘Christ’s rood, if even you can believe it, I am without hope.’
    ‘Enough. I go to Windsor myself on the morrow. If you receive an invitation, you are welcome to share my barge.’
    Ravenser peered up through his fingers.
    Thoresby nodded to him.
    Ravenser lifted his head and smiled. ‘You are kind to extend such an offer. How can I thank you?’
    ‘You will thank me by resolving this business before other reputations are jeopardised, nephew.’
    Ravenser bowed, still with a polite smile, but Thoresby had seen discomfort in the man’s eyes. Good. He understood that Thoresby looked after his own interests in this. He would not want his nephew to think him an unconditional ally.
    Don Erkenwald, almoner of St Leonard’s, heard the whispers about Walter de Hotter’s death. He did not like them. The rumour of the hospital’s financial troubles had been circulating through the city for several months, and now someone had attached a juicier titbit to it. No one had thought twice about John Rudby’s death, but the death of Walter de Hotter was clearly murder. And though Walter had lived out in the city, he had just returned from the hospital when attacked. His death further risked the hospital’s already tarnished reputation.
    The situation deserved more attention than his brother in charge of the hospital gave it. How had his fellows elected Don Cuthbert to the position of cellarer over him? The puny canon had been content with the bailiff’s suggestion that Walter had surprised a burglar, and he refused to speak of it further. He had been particularly deaf to Erkenwald’s suggestion that Richard de Ravenser, Master of St Leonard’s, be informed of the rumours.
    As to informing him,