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and into no other.”
    An expression of anxiety crossed Florete’s face. “For a friend of Magdalene’s, I promise to do my best to make it so, but you must understand…we are whores here. If we are questioned straitly, we answer before worse befalls us.”
    “Good enough,” Bell said, pleased with her honesty. “If you do not offer information, I will be satisfied.” To Magdalene, he said, “You know where I will be. A message left with the dean will reach me. I doubt I will be able to come back to Oxford today. Will I see you tomorrow?”
    “Yes, unless William sends me away from the city. In any case, I will leave word for you if I am not here.”
    He bowed slightly and left. Florete stared at his back, then bent sideways so she could watch him cross the yard. When he seized the reins of the destrier and mounted, she turned back to Magdalene.
    “I thought you swore you would never be any one man’s woman again.”
    “And I have kept that oath. That Bell would like me to break it is neither here nor there. He is welcome in my bed only on the understanding that others will be welcomed there also.”
    “Does he understand the honor bestowed upon him?” Florete asked, her eyes full of laughing mischief for a moment.
    Magdalene laughed aloud. “Almost. He has even stopped flinching when I mention William.”
    The mischief in Florete’s eyes was replaced by wariness. “The same William?”
    “Yes, the same.”
    For a moment Florete was silent, then she went to the door and across the yard into the street. She looked both ways. When she came back, she told the man at the table to call her only if necessary, beckoned to Magdalene and went to her bed. Having crept inside the curtains and gestured for Magdalene to join her, she said softly, “I cannot go out now. Business will begin to increase soon. This is the best I can do for privacy.”
    “It is enough for now,” Magdalene assured her, speaking no louder than she had. “I have no great secrets to keep or to tell. I am indeed here at William’s behest, but I know no more than that. All his clerk told me was that he needed a safe house.” She sighed. “Naturally he asks that of me right in the middle of the greatest concourse of men to take place in years. Do you know of a small house that I could empty temporarily? My old house? I can pay.”
    “What about here?” Florete asked.
    “The cocking chambers are not large enough,” Magdalene said at once. “There are likely to be several men, and the curtain at the door does not give enough privacy.”
    Florete repeated “Cocking chambers?” and looked surprised. “How could you think I would suggest a cocking chamber for that William’s purposes?” Then she shook her head and laughed shortly. “I forgot you were gone by the time I added the back chamber.”
    Magdalene raised her brows and Florete shrugged and went on, “Well, you know we never used the garden. This is better than a stew but not like your house, where noblemen are cozened with talk, tidbits, and wine if a woman is not ready.” A note of bitterness had come into Florete’s voice.
    Magdalene uttered a single bark of laughter. “And you are likely to make a powerful enemy if the entertainment is not sufficient or his lordship doesn’t like to be reminded that his sword is not the only one that dips into that sheath. Do not envy me too much.”
    The tightness in Florete’s expression relaxed and she shrugged. “To each her own joys. But anyway that’s what I did with the garden. I built a room where a man could be really private—if he were willing to pay.” She shrugged again. “I learned from you that a whorehouse is a good place for meetings that should not be taking place. I get some of those. I get some wild parties. I also get men who desire to dress as women, who desire to be together rather than with a woman, who want several women who will permit unnatural acts, preferably all at once.” She sighed. “All