A Murdered Peace

With a firm hold on the hounds’ leads, Kate picked her way down the poorly cleared path from Thomas Holme’s house to Castlegate, avoiding the deeper drifts of snow. For a moment she enjoyed a sense of satisfaction. She liked working with Thomas Holme, and he clearly meant to continue the partnership.

“Katherine. What a pleasant surprise!” Her mother, Eleanor.

How did she know her daughter was next door? It was possible she might see Kate from her own kitchen doorway – had it been open. But on the morning after a heavy snowfall, with the wind still brisk?

Wrapped in a costly fur-lined cloak, Eleanor waved to her from across the fence. “Rose and Nan have swept a path for you. Come along!”

A passing whim to wave gaily and hurry on gave way to the practical. Sisters Agnes, Brigida, Clara, and Dina, lay sisters in the tradition of the beguines of Strasbourg who comprised her mother’s Martha House, worked among the common folk in the city. In the course of a day they heard all the gossip. If anyone had heard about Lady Margery’s presence, or that of her serving man, they would have. Though it was early in the day for them to have been out and returned. Still, her mother expected her now, and so she played the obedient daughter.

A fire blazed in the hearth and lamps lit up the well-proportioned hall, Kate’s hall since shortly after she and Simon were wed until Michaelmas, just months ago. How she missed it. She watched Lille and Ghent take up their customary spot by the fire.

“You had business with Thomas Holme so early?” Eleanor asked as they settled on facing benches. “Or are you searching for the woman your knight’s men seek? Lady Kirkby?”

A thrust to the heart of her troubles. Her mother had an uncanny aim. But of course Elric’s men would inquire at a Martha House, an establishment that might take in a woman in peril. Even more so one founded by the mother of someone known to be Margery’s friend.

“He is not my knight.”

“As you wish.” A little smile. “I see you know something of this,” said Eleanor.

“Sir Elric did mention that Lady Kirkby might be in York.”

“This is the lady who gave Marie and Petra the brooches?”

“How did you know that?” Delicate gold filigree nests with jets in the shapes of eggs tucked inside.

“Oh, Marie talks of her all the time, Lady Margery said this, wore that, she is beautiful, witty, kind, and loved Marie best of all.” Eleanor smiled fondly. “Petra scowls every time, which is just what Marie intends. I am sorry that such a friend is in trouble. Would she seek you out?”

Was it a graver sin than usual to lie to the founder of a house of beguines? “Too dangerous. Too many know we are friends.”

“Do you believe she is part of the rebellion?”

“I find it difficult to imagine either Lady Kirkby or her husband plotting to murder the king and his sons.”

“But not impossible.”

Escaping her mother’s close regard, Kate rose and crossed the room as if to admire the statue of the Blessed Mother on the Lady altar. “I cannot imagine the circumstances that would so change them from ambassadors of peace to murderers. Has a traveler come seeking sanctuary, Mother?”

“No,” said Eleanor as she joined Kate, putting an arm round her. “But if she should, would you advise that we take her in?” she asked softly.

Kate met her mother’s steady gaze. “If she should appear on your doorstep, get word to me at once.”

“And keep her here until you arrive?”

“Yes.”

“Would you then give her up to your – Sir Elric?”

“I would hear Margery’s story before I decided. But that is not why I came,” said Kate. “I hear a little from Sister Brigida, but I wished to see you. It has been too long.”

“And so you see me.” Eleanor gave her an affectionate shake. “We are comfortable here. I pray we can look forward to a long lease?”

“I am happy with the arrangement,” said Kate. Though she wondered whether her mother would still prefer a more central location, such as the house on Low Petergate. Might they swap? She turned and took her mother’s hands, smiling into her startlingly green eyes. “I have some news. As I’ve just informed Thomas Holme, I have paid off the last of Simon’s debts.”

Her mother’s face lit up. “By the saints, you have done it, Katherine. I bow to you.”

Kate impulsively embraced her mother.

“Well, well,” Eleanor murmured as she patted her daughter’s back, then withdrew her arms. “Now what? Will you wed? Now that your cousin William is to be mayor you will have your pick of the eligible men in the city – faith, in the shire.”

“I am content as I am at present.”

“What of Sir Elric?”

Hoping to hide the flush as she remembered the warmth of his hands around hers the previous evening, Kate moved on to examine a new tapestry hanging on the wall. “He is not quite as irritating as he was, but ours is not that sort of relationship, Mother.”

“You may be the only person in York who does not see how he looks on you. But if you do not feel the same, well. What of Berend? Any word of him?”

“None.”

“I am sorry.” Spoken softly, her expression sincere.

Kate glanced away, fighting tears. “This is French?” she asked, fingering the heavy silk of the tapestry.

“It is. I saw it in a shop on the bridge and I could not resist. The colors are so lively, and the Virgin and Christ child so regal, yet tender.”

“And I trust you haggled over the price until the shopkeeper sold it to you for half its worth?”