“Messenger? What messenger?” asked Alice, sharply.

“You didn’t know? Of course, you were out early,” said the abbot. “Well, a man rode in this morning from Castle Rose. He was closeted with your father for half an hour or so before service. I myself had already gone across to the chapel, so did not see him. But I have been wondering if perhaps he brought some news to distress your father. Brother Luke thinks that might have helped cause this seizure.”

Alice could almost feel the blood leaving her cheeks. Bad news from Castle Rose? Fire? A death? “I must see him. Please, straight away? He is still here?”

“Yes.” They were downstairs now, at the door of the abbot’s rooms. A lay-brother, busy there about some cleaning task, was sent hurrying off. “I believe he went to get something to eat. Lady Alice, would you like me to be with you when you see him?”

“Thank you. But … It’s all right. I’m quite all right. You’re very kind, but I mustn’t keep you from your –” She hesitated. The word “duties” was not somehow quite right for the lord abbot.

“From my breakfast?” said the abbot, smiling. “And you should eat, too, my dear child. I’ll have them bring something for you to the parlour. Take him in there, and have your talk in private. Ah, here’s your man.”

She had half expected Jeshua, but it was Adam, one of the menservants. His news, briefly told, was not grave, but it was easy to guess that it might have helped to strike down an elderly and worried man.

Count Madoc, instead of waiting, as he had been asked to do, for the duke’s return, was already at Castle Rose. He had been in residence there already for almost a month, and had brought a troop with him; men-at-arms, said Adam, under a captain, and things were sadly at odds in the servants’ quarters and the stables, and indeed, outside in parts of the estate where the count had been riding out among the duke’s people. Of course they all knew that Count Madoc, being handfast to the Lady Alice, would soon be master of Castle Rose, but even so –

“He is not handfast to me,” said Alice; it might even be said that she snapped it. “There hasn’t yet been any talk of settlement. How could there be, till the duke gets home? Count Madoc is ahead of things, but I suppose it’s understandable. Well, what’s the trouble? Beltrane sent you with some complaint?” Beltrane was the head steward.

“Beltrane is ill, my lady. He’s ailed for some time, and when the new man Jeshua came he was glad and thankful to pass things over to him. A very capable fellow, the Jew, and nice to get on with, and seemingly knows how to manage things, coming from a great household –”

“Yes, yes. So what’s gone wrong?”