The kitten's sister batted at a worm in a puddle on the driveway. The creatures were so pampered they hadn’t had to learn the difference between leaves, worms, and mice, Hugh reflected, but without too much rancor. He strode down the drive towards the orchard where he knew Guinevere and the magister were walking. As always they would be intently discussing the finest points of legal argument. In the three days since he’d brought her from the Tower, Hugh had never been alone with Guinevere. There was always someone with her; if not the girls, or the magister, it would be some member of her household. She retired to her chamber immediately after they had supped and remained closeted there until daybreak, when she would appear, polite but withdrawn, to continue reading with her children or working on her defense. She had surrounded herself with an impenetrable wall, protecting herself from the enemy. It was driving him to distraction, not helped by his own confusion. After his afternoon in Matlock, he knew enough about her marriage to Timothy Hadlow and the circumstances surrounding his death to have a firm opinion; not so with Stephen Mallory's death.
