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.
“Land is only so good as the people who work it. I’m a much better cook than a farmer. My property is better off in the hands of my tenant. All revenue goes right back into the land, the crops, the house.”
“That is where you go when you leave for a few days?”
“Sometimes. If I intend to stay sober. My tenant is a grim, God-fearing man and his wife finds me frightening on my calmest days. I would not impose on them when I drink until my devils take over.”
Kate did not like the ache with which she imagined this life she knew nothing about, these people who knew things about Berend she had never guessed – Montagu, Merek, the tenants. Why had she thought a servant would bare his soul to her?
Because he had been so much more than a servant.
“I always meant to tell you.” He leaned his forearms on his thighs, his face close to hers, his hands pressed together as if praying for her to believe him. “But I knew you would find it suspect that a propertied man would wish to work as a cook. I would. For once, my courage failed me. Am I correct in guessing that Sir Elric is the source of this information as well?”
“Yes.”
Nights of worrying about him, the hollow ache of his absence, the memories like open wounds, burning when touched. Kate reached out and cradled Berend’s face in her hands.
“Why did you return to York?”
She felt him flinch.
“I count this city my home. Where else would I go?”
The city, not her household. She tried not to react. “But you said you are not back to stay.”
“Not yet.”
“So why are you here now?”
Berend moved her hands from his face and held them. “I did not expect the king’s men to be in the city. Not yet.”
“Sir Elric believes Margery Kirkby to be in the city. Why? She has no family here.”
“Why do they want her?”
Just ask him if he brought her here, and why, Geoff hissed in her mind. And why he was in Pontefract, Oxford, Cirencester.
Be quiet.
“Something to do with her husband’s part in the plot,” she said.
“I still doubt that Thomas Kirkby was part of it,” he said. “He is – was so determined to find a peaceful way forward. But then I hardly believed it when I heard of the plot.” Berend turned toward the window, his head tilted toward his missing ear. “Do you know whether anyone has seen her?”
Kate knew that posture. He was thinking. “Not that I know of. Why are you here now, in this room?”
“I told you. To find out what you know about Lady Margery. And whether anyone is asking about me.”
Now. Tell him now, Geoff insisted.
“I’ve already told you about Merek,” she said.
“Anyone else?”
“Unfortunately for you, my cousin William’s wife considers your absence a personal slight. Isabella Frost is furious that you are not available to cook for William’s mayoral feast, and she’s made moan to all the wives of the council.”
“Overbearing shrew.”
“You are not the first person to call her that,” said Kate, trying to lighten the blow. For she saw that it had been a blow to him. “And Sir Elric has been asking as well. How can I help you?”
He turned back to her, pressed her hands, then let go to knead his leg. “You cannot. It is too dangerous. You have too much to lose. The children need you. I pray I have not brought attention to you.”
Knowing how he cared for Petra, Marie, and Phillip, Kate could not believe that Berend would risk endangering them merely to question her about Lady Margery. And what of Lady Margery seeking sanctuary with her? Is it possible he did not know? “If that concerns you, why did you come? The truth, Berend.”
A fleeting smile. “I trusted that once I slipped away you would be forewarned, take precautions to protect the household from king’s men, or men pretending to be his. It would be wise.”
Kate agreed. “The king’s men will hear soon enough that I am Margery’s friend. You cannot protect me from that.”
“No. At the moment I have all I can do to protect myself.”
“And your traveling companions?”
He had averted his eyes again, but she knew that fixed jaw. “The less you know, the better.”
“Damn you, Berend. Help me help you.”
He bowed his head. “You have. Bless you. Thank you for warning me.”
Kate touched his shoulder. “Petra misses you so. She wants everything to be as it was. So do I.”
“The royal cousins have murdered peace.” He raised his head, rubbing his eyes as if that might revive him. Or had there been tears? No, his eyes were steady as he gazed on her with the saddest countenance. “Wresting the crown from Richard was the worst thing Henry might have done for the realm. With the uprising– He cannot allow Richard to live. So now he not only plucked the crown from the anointed king but he will have his blood.”
“God help us.”
“We must help ourselves. Look to the children. Keep them safe.”
“I will guard them with my life.”
Berend rose with a grunt – the leg must be far more painful than he would admit – and limped to the window staying out of sight as best he could while peering out. “Would you check to see if my path is clear to slip away?”
He was leaving so soon, too soon. Kate felt in her bones the danger he faced. Would they ever speak again? She went to him, wanting to embrace him as a friend. But he held her at arm’s length, shaking his head.
“Do not make this harder than it already is, Katherine.”
“Kevin and his men might help you.”
First he looked shocked, then angry. “No. Tell them nothing. Nothing, do you hear me?”
“You’ve told me nothing that I might share. I merely meant …”
“And do not set Jennet on my trail. This is not your battle.”
Battle? “I don’t even know who they are, or what Salisbury wanted of you.”
His expression relaxed. “That was my intention.”
He had succeeded. “Will I see you again?” she asked softly.
Now he rested his hands on her shoulders and pressed his forehead to the top of her head. “I pray that you do. And the children, Lille and Ghent, Jennet, Matt. You are my family.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze. “I must go.”
Kate lifted her face to his and kissed his cheek, then held him tightly for a moment, listening to his strong heartbeat, faster than usual, and no wonder. Injured and on the run. “Come back to us,” she whispered.
A deep breath. “If God wills it,” he said, his voice husky with emotion.
“Lady Margery is as safe as she can be,” she said, despite herself. “But Carl is missing.”
She saw how that worried him. Yet he tried so hard to hide that they had traveled together.
“Did you part ways before York?” she asked.
“I will tell you no more, Katherine.”
“So be it.” She crossed the room to see whether he could safely depart. Checking the shutters, the landing, the stairway. She turned as she felt him behind her. Hood up, cloak belted close, gloves hiding his missing fingers, he might be any traveler.
“God go with you,” she whispered as he passed her, beginning his descent. Though a large, muscular man, he moved silently, avoiding the creaking steps, opening the gate with nary a squeak this time. Pausing at the bottom he glanced back, one hand raised, then slipped out into the crowd moving along Petergate.
Kate slumped down on the top step, covered her face, and prayed.
Holy Mother, I pray you, intercede with your son on Berend’s behalf, ask him to watch over my friend, see that he comes to no harm. And, if it please your son, send him back to me.