The Service of the Dead

He bowed his head. “They did. Leaving no one in the mood to linger. Lady Margery went up to bed with a pounding head.”

Her cousin had much to answer for of late. “I was not aware she had invited William. Had I known that was her intent I would have dissuaded her. I cannot imagine his feeling easy in that house just now. But of course his fellows would not know why.”

“Perhaps we should have told her all that happened?”

“Not yet, uncle. Right now I need to talk to Griselde and Clement, then stop at the school to make sure Jennet fetched Marie. And consult with Jocasta Sharp.”

“If I hear anything of your ward I will send you word at once.”

He drew her up and kissed her on each cheek. “May God watch over you and your household, Katherine.” As Lille and Ghent rose, Richard Clifford bent to pet them. “And you, my regal friends, I entrust my niece to your protection in these troubling times.”

For once it was Kate urging Lille and Ghent to hurry along the snowy streets. As she negotiated the drifts and frozen ruts she whispered a prayer that she would find Phillip safe at home. Her relief that Jennet had collected Marie at the school had been dampened by the schoolmaster’s shake of the head – no, Phillip had never shown up.

But she found only Berend and Marie in the kitchen. Jennet had gone back out.

Marie glanced up from her stirring to inform Kate that she must have a word with her maidservant when she returned. “When she arrived at the school she had dressed with such haste she had missed a button and her gown was askew. Her slovenly appearance embarrassed me.”

“You are one to throw stones. You did not give me the note your schoolmaster entrusted to you. That is far worse than a missed button.” Kate held out her hand. “I would see it now.”

A shrug. “I lost it.” Marie returned to her stirring.

Kate grabbed the spoon from the girl’s hand and pushed the bowl aside. “Find it. Now.”

With a sniff, the girl tossed aside her apron and pulled off the cloths protecting her long sleeves, narrowly missing the bowl as she tossed them onto the table. As she flounced out the door, Lionel Neville entered.

From bad to worse. “Dear Lionel. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

“I would have a word.”

Kate had passed through the hall on her return to collect her bow and a quiver of arrows for some time at the butt. Scooping them up she stepped across the threshold, glancing back to invite him to follow. “We will talk out in the fresh air.”

His look was pained. That pleased her. And it interested her that Lille and Ghent fell to sniffing intently at him as he stepped into the yard.

“Would you at least do me the courtesy of keeping them away from me?”

Agreeing that it was enough to make the man stand out in the cold with her, she shooed the dogs into the hall where they could happily nap by the fire, and alert her to any unexpected activity. That settled, she knocked the snow and ice off the straw-stuffed butt and turned it so that the wan winter sunlight was behind her. Then she notched an arrow, aimed. A superstitious thought arose as she let it fly – If it lands in the center, Phillip will come home safe and sound. It landed ever so slightly off center. She silently cursed herself.

“So? Speak, Lionel.” She reached for a second arrow.

“I ask you to introduce me to Lady Kirkby.”

She laughed. “If she wishes to confer with a Neville, it would not be you she would call on.”

Most people would have rosy cheeks out in the snow, but his narrow face was pinched and pale though there was some spark in his eyes. “It was my cousin the earl who suggested it.”

“If he writes a letter, I promise to deliver it.” She aimed. Dead center. “He doubts Lady Kirkby’s professed mission?”

“King Richard did not send Lord Kirkby to the continent to make peace with his cousin Bolingbroke. In whose name, then, might he sue for peace? Why would Bolingbroke trust Kirkby with his fate?” Lionel stomped and blew on his gloved hands. “Are you impervious to cold?” He tucked his hands inside his cloak.

“I find it refreshing. As to your questions, I of course cannot answer for Lady Kirkby. All I can say is that if she wishes to invite a member of the Neville family to dine with her, she would confer with your powerful cousin the Earl of Westmoreland as to whom he would care to have represent him. And as the earl does not reside in York, I doubt she has him on her list for this visit.” Kate turned back to the butt and notched another arrow.

A brief silence ensued. She shot several arrows before he spoke again, startling her.

“I understand you are concerned about Phillip, that he has been absent from school for two days and you have no idea where he goes instead.”

She lowered the bow and turned to him, the arrow still notched. “Have you information?”

“In fact, I do. He’s been seen at the bawdy houses round the Bedern, and in a tavern with a drunk stonecutter. My nephew. A Neville. Disgraceful!”

She took a step toward him. “Where? Take me there.”