Falconer's Trial by Ian Morson

blundered around the management of the estate in a similarly uncaring way. Ann had let him get on with matters for a while, but it had proved impossible to stand back and accept the mess he was making. She had ended up doing as she always had done when Humphrey was present, and had run the estate herself. Nevertheless, Alexander continued to meddle in matters he had no knowledge of. So, she had often been forced to step in to mollify angry servants and correct bad instructions. She knew for example that, if a recent command of Alexander’s had been followed, the fishponds would have been drained and the fish stocks ruined.
    When he had realized she had countermanded him, Alexander had ranted and raved at Ann, demanding she obey him as a woman should. He did not realize that she had perfected the skill of running the estate while allowing Humphrey to think he did. She had honed over the many years of their loveless marriage an ability to do just as she pleased, while allowing Humphrey to keep his sense of manhood. Her husband was proud of having only ever read one book, which was a theological treatise by Friar Nicolas Byard. And he frequently quoted his favourite passage from it to his cronies over copious quantities of good wine:
    ‘A man may chastise his wife and beat her for her correction, for she is of his household and therefore the lord may chastise his own.’
    In fact, it was many a year since he had dared lay a finger on her. It became obvious that Alexander had to learn the same lesson soon after he arrived at Botley. When he realized he could not dominate Ann, he had turned to drink, working his way steadily through Humphrey’s barrels of Rhenish wine.
    Now, when he burst unceremoniously into Ann’s solar, she knew he had been at his cups for some time. Her brother-in-law’s face was flushed and his gait unsteady. He grinned lecherously.
    ‘Ah, there you are sweet Ann. I have been looking for you. Where were you yesterday evening?’
    He stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame to keep himself from falling over. Ann forced a maidenly smile on to her face.
    ‘Why, I was at Godstow nunnery, Alexander, talking with the prioress. Would you like to know what we discussed?’
    Alexander Eddington screwed up his eyes in fuddled concentration. He was not sure if he should take Ann’s words as the unvarnished truth, or if the bitch was in some way mocking him. He never knew what was going on in her mind. But he did recall stories about past goings-on at the nunnery which was situated between his brother’s estate and the town. His grin returned and he waved an unsteady finger at his sister-in-law.
    ‘More news about the affairs of the nuns, no doubt.’
    He fancied he stressed the word ‘affairs’ in such a way that would cause Ann Segrim to blush. But she merely held that annoying smile on her face and replied as if he had asked keenly about the religious observances of the place.
    ‘Indeed. The way of life and devotion of the nuns at Godstow are an inspiration to us all. The celibate life I have observed since your brother, my husband, went away could have been modelled on theirs.’
    It was Alexander who ended up blushing. He had attempted a seduction of his sister-in-law soon after he had arrived. He had fancied she would find his virility irresistible after years of being married to Humphrey, a man many years his senior and probably incapable of satisfying a woman. He had failed miserably in his attempt. Not only had Ann spurned his offer, she had succeeded in humiliating him in the process. Fortunately, the attempt had been in private without the servants there to observe. He had not tried again. Until this morning, when drink had emboldened him. But once again she had seemed to turn the tables on him.
    Uncertain how to retreat without humiliation, he hovered in the doorway. He watched as her hand went to a book that lay at her elbow on the table. Ignoring him completely, she opened it and studied with