A Twisted Vengeance
- Автор: Робб Кэндис
- Серия: A Kate Clifford Mystery #2
- Год: 2017
- Язык: английский
- Год: Pegasus Books
- ISBN: 9781681774756
- Жанр: Исторические детективы
Электронная книга - «A Twisted Vengeance». Краткое содержание книги:
As the fourteenth century comes to a close, York seethes on the brink of civil war – and young widow Kate Clifford, struggling to keep her businesses afloat, realizes that her mother is harboring a dangerous secret…
1399. York is preparing for civil war, teeming with knights and their armed retainers summoned for the city’s defense. Henry of Lancaster is rumored to have landed on the northeast coast of England, not so far from York, intent on reclaiming his inheritance – an inheritance which his cousin, King Richard, has declared forfeit.
With the city unsettled and rife with rumors, Eleanor Clifford’s abrupt return to York upon the mysterious death of her husband in Strasbourg is met with suspicion in the city. Her daughter Kate is determined to keep her distance, but it will not be easy – Eleanor has settled next door with the intention of establishing a house of beguines, or poor sisters. When one of the beguines is set upon in the night by an intruder, Kate knows that for the sake of her own reputation and the safety of her young wards she must investigate.
From the first, Eleanor is clearly frightened yet maintains a stubborn silence. The brutal murder of one of Eleanor’s servants leads Kate to suspect that her mother’s troubles have followed her from Strasbourg. Is she secretly involved in the political upheaval? When one of her wards is frightened by a too-curious stranger, Kate is desperate to draw her mother out of her silence before tragedy strikes her own household.
“You need not worry on either count.” Sir Elric knew how she used the house when it was not occupied by important visitors to the minster, but he had no interest in exposing either Kate or her clients. The wealthy lovers of York were safe with him. Or so he said. So far. “But why he stands there, waiting, I cannot guess.”
“Perhaps he wishes to ask you about the knights Sir Alan Bennet is gathering in your house on High Petergate? Or your mother’s sudden return from Strasbourg?”
“I pray it is neither.”
Thomas seemed deaf to her distress. “Considering what we have just discussed in the hall, who could fault him? How do we know that Sir Alan is not bringing in comrades hostile to King Richard?”
Would Elric care about that? Kate wondered. She believed his lord to be ready to support Duke Henry. Thomas, too, truth be told. And the cronies with whom he had chosen to sit at the meeting, all current or former aldermen of York as well as past mayors. She wondered about the current mayor.
“No one is to be trusted, or so it seems to me,” Thomas continued, chattering on as if relieving a pent-up need to express himself. “And we’ve no idea whether Duke Henry had connections in Strasbourg, but as you recall the king’s men searched all ships known to be carrying cargo from that fair city. Sir Elric might wonder whether your mother is here on Duke Henry’s behalf.”
If that were so, Elric would likely consider Dame Eleanor an ally. But he had given no sign of that. “Nonsense,” said Kate, pretending a confidence she lacked. For she still had no idea why her mother was in York. When she’d departed the city six years earlier to begin life anew in Strasbourg with her second husband, Ulrich Smit, Eleanor had sworn never to return, that she was finished with the land of her birth. That, too, had been done in haste – Kate’s father, David, was only a few months buried. But seeing them together, Kate had guessed that her mother and Ulrich had been lovers a long while. He’d been one of her father’s trading partners and a frequent guest in their home in Northumberland, on the border with Scotland. When Eleanor returned in April, a widow once more, her plans had been made in such haste that she arrived before the letter announcing her return. Again, her husband was only a few months buried. A pattern, and one that raised questions in everyone’s minds.
Eleanor had brushed off all Kate’s questions about her hasty return, saying she had been inspired to found a beguine house, or Martha House, to serve the poor, the ill, and educate young women in York. No matter that there were already a number of small houses serving the poor and ill in York, as well as grammar schools that accepted girls; Eleanor claimed that the beguine houses of Strasbourg were a step above what York offered, both for the women and the community. Her mother had no talent for diplomacy. But she was exceptionally skilled at evading questions.
Though Kate assured Thomas that he had nothing to fear from Sir Elric, she did not trust the knight. And she very much dreaded his appearance at this particular moment. His men watched her home, as if Elric knew not to trust that she kept him informed of all she knew. What might he make of last night’s misadventure? How might he twist it to further his earl’s interests? “Might I be of use concerning Sister Dina?” Thomas asked. “Perhaps speak with Magistra Matilda about what she might know?”
“Bless you. She would be more willing to speak with you, her benefactor, than she is with me.”
“Dame Katherine, Master Thomas.” Sir Elric joined Kate and her partner as they passed through the gate.
“Good day to you, Sir Elric, Katherine.” Thomas Holme nodded to each in turn. He leaned over to scratch the hounds once more behind their ears, then strode away down the street, hastening to join Thomas Graa and, to Kate’s surprise, her cousin William Frost, who had not attended the meeting. How she would love to follow, see where they were headed. The council chambers on Ouse Bridge? Something appeared to be brewing among the ruling elite of York. But they would notice her trailing them no doubt, and lead her astray. And, of course, she now had Sir Elric in tow.
“The hounds are accustomed to him,” Sir Elric noted.
“They are grateful for the run of Thomas’s river gardens.” Kate laughed at the knight’s expression. “Never underestimate the intelligence of a wolfhound.”
“I will remember that, Dame Katherine.”
“You would be wise to do so.”
“Such grim faces exiting the guildhall. Is there trouble?”
“Just the small matter of the Duke of York’s orders to hold the city against Henry of Lancaster. The effect this turmoil will have on trade. The influx of armed strangers into the city. By the saints, the exile’s return affects us all.” She softened her irritated response with a quick, false smile. “You waited patiently for us to adjourn. Your mission must be important?”
“You are right, of course. Duke Henry’s movements are uppermost in all our minds. In truth, I was curious about this meeting.”
“I applaud your honesty. And now you know all. Forgive me, but I must be off – I was to meet with Griselde and Clement this morning, and this meeting went on so long. I despaired at the long-windedness of my fellows. It takes a great deal of hot air to dance around responsibility for the city’s safety.”
“Might I walk with you?”
She hesitated, distrusting his intent. He had searched her room for the incriminating letters when her family was in crisis, and she hated him for that. But it was a mark of her ambivalence about him, a grudging respect, that she did not think it at all likely that last night’s intruder was one of his men. And he might be useful. She might learn something more about Knaresborough and Duke Henry’s movements. “Of course.”
She snapped her fingers at Lille and Ghent, who had settled in the shade at her feet.
As the four set off up Fossgate, a group of soldiers made way for them. There were more and more of Elric’s kind on the streets, swords and daggers bristling. The people of York already had enough of them, drinking, brawling, crowding the city, many encamped on Toft Green across the river, beside the Dominican friary.
Across the river. Kate thought about the small boat Berend had noticed, left on the bank just opposite the staithe.
Another group of soldiers veered to the left of Lille.
“I am glad you go about with the wolfhounds,” said Elric. “A man would be a fool to bother a woman flanked by them.”
She smiled to herself. “They are good companions.” And for the fools, she had a dagger and, occasionally, a small battle-axe concealed in her skirts. She overheard one of the men as he glanced back, “War hounds. Should be handed over to those defending the city.”
Elric stopped, turned, called out to the man to watch himself.
“Do not antagonize them,” Kate hissed. She tightened her hold on the leads and hurried on. Another worry, though she could not quite imagine how anyone would take Lille and Ghent by surprise. They were too well-trained and experienced. Still, she would tell the household of the man’s comments so they knew to be on their guard.
“Has the duke come to claim his Lancastrian inheritance, or the crown?” she asked to distract herself when Elric fell in beside her again.
“In truth, I would not be so bold as to try to fathom his purpose,” he said.