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wished she could have taken back what she had just said. Walking to the weeping mother, she laid a comforting arm on hers. “My words were thoughtless but not meant to be unkind. There is no child’s death that does not cut away part of a mother’s heart.”
    “Our former priest said I must forget the dead ones.” Margaret spat out this advice as if the words were made of wormwood. “My firstborn had time to confess before he died, but the soul of my Roger may be in Hell. He drowned without making peace with God. Had that priest been alive yesterday, he would have claimed the same fate for my Gervase, blaming him for his own death.”
    “In Hell? Surely not with a priest in residence to urge him to frequent confession!” The full meaning of Margaret’s words about Gervase now struck Eleanor. She stepped back in shock. “Do you believe your son’s death yesterday was a deliberate act of self-murder?” She looked at Margaret’s face.
    The lady turned away.
    Eleanor shivered and reached down to retrieve her drink. The warmth of the Ypocras had dissipated, and she set the cup back on the table. “What has led you to think that the fall was no accident?” she whispered.
    Beginning to shake uncontrollably, the baron’s wife said, “Your priest may have rescued my son’s soul. He tried.”
    Eleanor urged Margaret to sit, then gestured for the servant to reheat the wine with the poker near the fire.
    The earthy smell of cloves mixed with sweet cinnamon filled the air.
    Taking the cup herself, the prioress put it into the lady’s hands and braced them so the mother could sip. “Drink a bit more,” Eleanor said and waited until natural color had returned to Margaret’s face.
    “I was there,” the lady whispered.
    Eleanor ached with compassion.
    “My husband’s nephew was with me. Leonel and I stood in the corridor just outside this room, looking out the window. Since we knew your party was expected to arrive before nightfall, we wished to greet you below as soon as you rode up.”
    And why was the baron not with his wife, waiting for their guests to arrive? The question flashed in her mind, despite the tension of this moment, and Eleanor was perplexed. It was a strange discourtesy from a man who had asked such a great favor from them all.
    “My son called to us from the stairwell. We watched him approach.” Margaret put a hand over her heart, her widened eyes signifying she was reliving the event. “He staggered, laughed and shouted nonsense, as if he had drunk too deeply of wine.”
    “Was this common with your son?”
    “Boys, learning to be men, often do, but my son was neither very temperate nor too fond of unwatered wine. To see him drunk that early in the day was a surprise. Leonel was as shocked as I and whispered that he would take his cousin off to bed before he disgraced himself. He swore he would discover the cause for this behavior.”
    “Your nephew is close to his cousins?”
    “He has lived with us for many years. He was like an elder brother to my sons and was well-loved by them before he left for Outremer with my lord. If anyone could have persuaded my son to sleep off his indulgence before exposing himself to ridicule, it was Leonel. His heart is as kind as his manner is firm.”
    “So your nephew went to your son…”
    “He called out, telling Gervase that he must show manliness, that even angels would be angered if he failed to do so. My son replied that he had sworn an oath and would honor it, then slid onto the bench of the window seat. Leonel turned to ask me if I knew what his cousin meant, thinking my son had promised me something. When he did, my son leaned out of the window. He spread his arms and shouted that God had made men masters over birds. He would fly with the mews. Leonel and I stared at him in confusion, then my boy went head first out of the window. I screamed.”
    Eleanor knelt by Margaret and took the forgotten cup from her hands.
    “As my son fell, I saw his