A Murdered Peace
- Автор: Робб Кэндис
- Серия: A Kate Clifford Mystery #3
- Год: 2018
- Язык: английский
- Год: Pegasus Books
- ISBN: 9781681779270
- Жанр: Исторические детективы
Электронная книга - «A Murdered Peace». Краткое содержание книги:
England still in tumult at the start of the fifteenth century, as Kate Clifford finds herself working to prove the innocence of her longtime confidante.
It is deep winter in York, 1400, the ground frozen, the short days dimmed with the smoke from countless fires, the sun, when it shines, low in the sky. It is rumored that the Epiphany Uprising, meant to relieve the realm of the Henry the usurper and return King Richard to the throne has, instead, spelled his doom. As long as Richard lives, he is a threat to Henry. So, too, the nobles behind the plot. The ringleaders have been caught, some slaughtered as they fled west by folk loyal to Henry, and the king's men now search the towns for survivors.
A perilous time, made worse for Kate Clifford by the disappearance of Berend, her cook and confidante, shortly after Christmas. Her niece saw his departure in a dream – he said he was honor bound to leave. Honor bound – to a former lord? One of the nobles who led the uprising? Is he alive? She is hardly consoled when Berend reappears, wounded, secretive, denying any connection to the uprising, but refusing to explain himself. When he is accused of brutally murdering a spice seller in the city, Kate discovers a chest of jewels in his possession. Some of the jewels belong to her old friend Lady Margery, wanted by the king for her husband’s part in the uprising. For the sake of their long friendship, and the love she and her wards bear for him, Kate wants to believe his innocence. So, too, does Sir Elric. And he has the powerful backing of the Earl of Westmoreland. All she need do is confide in him. If only she trusted her heart.
“Well, there are imperfections. Notice the angel’s toes, and that thing that might have been intended to be a tree in the background?”
Kate laughed. “I do see. But is this behavior suitable to a beguine?”
“We work hard for our money.”
“You are a wealthy widow, Mother.”
“Founding a Martha House is costly. And you charge us a considerable rent.”
Kate embraced her mother. “I tease you. I am glad to see the sparkle in your eyes. You seem content in this life.”
“It suits me. I feel blessed.” Eleanor pecked Kate on the cheek, then held her at arms’ length. “So what is next? Will you still have some trade with Thomas Holme?”
“We expect one of our ships any day. Silks and spices. A contract I signed in my own name. Free and clear.”
“Will your brother-in-law see it so?”
“I ensured that Lionel would have a separate contract with Thomas, though it is of short duration.”
“Sufficient to appease him.”
“For now.”
“Clever. But what of this woman, Lady Kirkby? Can she harm you? You will not play the fool for her and risk everything, Katherine?”
Yes, yes, Mother, I am doing just that, she thought. Could she read Kate’s heart? After all, she had carried in her womb the twin who lived on in Kate so long after his death, why doubt that she had some uncanny powers?
“Katherine?”
“Sir Elric vows to keep Lady Kirkby safe, unharmed, until he delivers her up to the king’s men.”
“Your voice quieted with those last words. You do not trust what will happen to her then.”
“It is said that King Henry knows his reign will not be secure until Richard is dead, and that he sent one of his henchmen to Pontefract to see to it. The French king believes Richard is already dead. If King Henry has so little care for his cousin’s life, I cannot think he would blink at ordering Lady Kirkby’s death. Her husband was executed without trial.”
“What did he do?”
Kate repeated what Elric had told her.
“Mon Dieu,” Eleanor exclaimed. “He was executed for committing an act of mercy?”
Kate knew the look in her mother’s eyes, the sideways glance, the frown. A test, to prove to herself that her mother did not read her mind. “You will tell me if she comes to you, Mother?”
“Do you promise to follow your conscience?”
“In faith, Mother, I find I trip myself up if I attempt to go against what I know is right.” Her mother’s approving nod seemed a benediction. For a moment she felt good about hiding Margery.
A nod. “I will send you word, Katherine.”
Kate thanked her mother and bent to slip the hounds’ leads through their collars while she struggled with the urge to confide in Eleanor.
“I must say, I would very much like to meet this Margery.”
Kate glanced up in time to catch her mother’s sly smile and asked the question before her mother could ask it of her. “She is not already here?”
“No. I am not so cunning as that. I leave that to you.”
Kate studied her mother’s face, but saw no challenge. God be thanked.
As Kate walked back out onto Castlegate the sun broke through the clouds, turning the gardens across the way into a dazzling world of diamond-encrusted trees, shimmering in the updrafts from the river below. She was tempted to let the hounds romp in the snow, but she was anxious to talk to Griselde and Jennet, see whether they’d had any news of Carl, or rumors of Lady Margery’s presence. And Berend. Where was he?
She was beset with questions and disturbing possibilities. Had Margery somehow drawn Berend into another plot dreamed up by her too-trusting husband? May he rest in peace. No, Berend would not be so foolish. Or would he? Even if he felt a debt to his former lord’s heir? Whether Petra’s insight came from something overheard or was truly a glimpse through the Sight, the “duty bound” was far more likely to have drawn Berend. God help him.
He is a seasoned warrior, her twin Geoff said in her mind. You have trusted him with your life and those of your children. Why doubt him now?
I don’t doubt him, I fear for him, Geoff.
And?
And I’m angry. She felt her twin’s nod. I feel betrayed. He hid all this from me, his connection with Montagu, the gift of land. That is no small gesture from his former lord. Did he not trust me?
I will be curious to hear how he explains himself.
If he returns.
Too restless to enjoy the snowy gardens, she headed back toward the center of the city.
On Coney Street, just beyond the Ouse Bridge, Ghent startled her with a bark. Lille followed suit. Their eyes were trained on a man standing at the corner of the church of St. Michael, beneath the eaves, in a shadow so dark Kate might never have noticed him without their warning. Something about him was familiar, and when he carefully raised a three-fingered hand to his mouth, Kate caught her breath. It was Berend, gesturing to the hounds to be quiet. They obeyed, looking away. Her heart raced. Berend, alive and well enough to be standing there, to respond quickly to what must have been an unexpected encounter. But why silence the hounds’ greetings? And why was Berend now slowly backing round the corner of the church? Ah, he was not looking at her, but across the street as he disappeared.
Whispering a command to the hounds to continue walking, but slowly, Kate studied the passersby, then looked across the street. Two men in travel-stained clothes tensely watching the crowd, their eyes darting back and forth. She guided Lille and Ghent diagonally so they wound up close to them. She nodded to one as he doffed his hat and bowed to her.
Lancastrian livery. King’s men, Geoff whispered in her head.
I noticed.
The second man bobbed his head, but was clearly impatient to be moving on, edgy. King’s men tracking Berend and they’d lost the scent?
“Fine hunting dogs,” said the more courteous one. “Unusual to see such fine beasts in the city.”
Kate nodded. “I take pride in them. I trained them myself.”
“But not here, I warrant. I hear the North in your speech.”
“This is the North,” she said. “Good day to you. God speed.”
He was bowing when she moved off, Lille and Ghent obediently trotting on either side, though she sensed their confusion, which only echoed her own. Why had Berend been lurking just there? Was he observing the king’s men? Or was she wrong about the connection? Perhaps they were simply passing through the city on some business related to the Lancastrian properties. Or searching for Lady Margery, not Berend. As she crossed into St. Helen’s Square, Kate paused, considering the York Tavern. The yard was empty at the moment. The quiet before the bustle of the midday diners. She might catch Sir Elric, find out whether he knew anything about the two men she had encountered. As she skirted round the cemetery in the middle of the square and crossed into the yard, she was busy fabricating a story about why the men made her uneasy without mentioning Berend. But it was simple – he would want to know.
The taverner Colin Merchet welcomed Kate as she stepped through the doorway into the public room, but shook his head at the hounds. “Forgive me, Mistress Clifford, but we permit no dogs on the premises. My granddam will not have them.” He was a pleasant-faced man, short, muscular, with the beginnings of a prosperous belly. Fair hair curled round his face, damp beneath a felt cap, a contrast to his dark eyes and ruddy complexion.
“Then would you kindly ask Sir Elric to come out to the yard?” asked Kate. “I will wait there.”