“No one in Dreng’s Ferry has a bed of any kind.”

Edgar spoke up. “Except the nuns.”

Ragna was surprised. “Nobody told me about any nuns.”

“On the island,” said Edgar. “There’s a small convent.”

Dreng looked cross. “You can’t go there, my lady. They look after lepers and all sorts. That’s why it’s called Leper Island.”

Ragna was skeptical. Many nuns cared for the sick, and they rarely caught the infections of their patients. Dreng just wanted the prestige of hosting Ragna overnight.

Edgar said: “The lepers aren’t allowed into the convent.”

Dreng said crossly: “You know nothing, you’ve only lived here a quarter of a year, keep your mouth shut.” He smiled unctuously at Ragna. “I couldn’t let you risk your life, my lady.”

“I’m not asking your permission,” Ragna said coldly. “I shall make up my own mind.” She turned to Edgar. “What are the sleeping arrangements at the nunnery?”

“I’ve only been there once, to repair the roof, but I think there are two bedrooms, one for the mother superior and her deputy, and a large room for the other five or six nuns. They all have wooden bedsteads with mattresses and blankets.”

“That sounds perfect. Will you take me there?”

“Of course, my lady.”

“Cat and Agnes will come with me. The rest of my servants will remain here. If the nunnery turns out to be unsuitable for any reason, I’ll come straight back.”

Cat picked up the leather bag that contained the few items Ragna needed at night, such as a comb and a piece of Spanish soap. She had discovered that England had only liquid soap.

Edgar took a lamp from the wall and Cat another. If Dreng objected he did not dare say so.

Ragna caught Bern’s eye and gave him a hard look. He nodded, understanding her. He was in charge of the chest containing the money.

She followed Edgar out, and Cat and Agnes came behind. They made their way to the waterside and boarded the boat while Edgar untied the rope. His dog jumped aboard. Edgar picked up a pole and the boat moved off.

Ragna hoped the nunnery was as advertised. She was badly in need of a clean room and a soft bed and a warm blanket. She felt like a thirsty person whose throat burns with desire on seeing a flagon of cold cider.

She said: “Is the nunnery wealthy, Edgar?”

“Moderately,” he said. He poled the boat effortlessly and had no shortage of breath for talking. “They own land at Northwood and St.-John-in-the-Forest.”

Agnes said: “Are you married to one of the ladies in the tavern, Edgar?”

Ragna smiled. Clearly Agnes was attracted to Edgar.

He laughed. “No. Two of them are Dreng’s wives, and the pregnant girl is a slave.”

“Are men allowed to have two wives in England?”

“Not really, but the priests can’t stop it.”

“Are you the father of the slave’s baby?”

Another pointed question, Ragna thought.

Edgar was mildly offended. “Certainly not.”