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.
“This was her home, was it not?”
“It was indeed, though how you would know that I cannot fathom. No matter. Now you are here, I will of course do you the courtesy of an interview. Let me see …”
She studied the disagreeable pair. The old friar’s face had gone briefly crimson – the subtle insult of a test was not lost on him. But he quickly recovered, bowing to her.
“How would you advise us to bring Agnes Dell into the fold?” she asked. The overbearing were so easy to bait.
Adam produced a smile meant to be beneficent, but the milky eyes lacked expression and the man’s breath was sour. “First, you should have her speak with me, tell me why she chose to make such a change.”
“And what would you seek in her answer? A spiritual yearning?”
“It is for her to say. If her answer was satisfactory, I would instruct the sisters to ensure that one of them accompany Dame Agnes at all times for the next few months. After our weekly meetings they would tell me all that they observed as she goes about her day. In confidence, of course.”
Of course. You would not want Agnes to know what the sisters said behind her back, you miserable … Eleanor breathed deeply. “Yes? Go on, I pray you.”
“In such wise, we might arrive at the best advice for the woman going forward.”
The woman. Poor Agnes, to be the subject of such scrutiny. Under such treatment she would come to question her decision, regardless of whether or not her vocation was deemed sincere. Eleanor felt Walter watching her closely. She turned her gaze on the youth, staring him down until he averted his eyes, making a great study of his hands. Neither of the friars reflected the same warmth as the beguines. She wondered who had observed them, judged them fit for God’s work.
Admittedly, she and the sisters all agreed that the life of a beguine might not be what Agnes had expected, and as for any potential sister, they had advised Agnes to look into her heart for the next few months and ask God’s guidance in her decision. It was also customary that sisters go forth in pairs. But to spy on the woman and tattle to their confessor, especially this cold creature who was overdue for his grave – Eleanor saw no love and compassion in such an instruction. Her smile to Friar Adam was more a baring of teeth.
“Your daughter, Mistress Neville–” he began.
“Clifford. But you may refer to her as Dame Katherine.”
“Dame Katherine.” He bowed. “She is a singular woman. I have heard disturbing tales about her and the men in her household.”
Eleanor bristled. Friar Adam was nothing more than a common gossip. “My daughter has taken in three orphans and given them a good, loving home. In such times as these, with soldiers setting up camp in Toft Green – so close to your abbey, Friar Adam, you must be aware of them – I count my daughter wise and responsible to have men in the household who can defend the children, as well as herself, a young widow. Do you take offense at such precaution?”
Adam’s smile was stiff as Walter took the cup of wine Rose proffered his master and placed it in his hand. “My mistake, Dame Eleanor. The arrangement as you describe it is most admirable. Though, as she is a widow, a great temptation to the men in her household.”
Ah, me, poor clerics, how they fear their bodies. Eleanor merely smiled, stubbornly saying nothing, though her mind conjured delicious retorts about where weak men go to hide. Walter leaned close to his master and whispered in his ear, no doubt describing her smile. Fit to burst, Eleanor was about to excuse herself and cross Castlegate to fetch the sisters when the beguines appeared at the garden door. God be thanked. Before the introductions could be made, Eleanor herded them back out to the garden with a vague excuse to the friars and assurances that they would not be long.
“Dame Eleanor, I do not wish to be discourteous, but the good friars, we wish to meet them,” said Sister Clara, her round, usually placid face reddened with the perceived slight to the holy men.
“Good friars they are not, which you will discern once you speak with them,” said Eleanor. She gave them a brief account of Adam’s sour and judgmental opinions.
“Mon Dieu,” murmured Brigida.
“How unfortunate,” said Clara.
Sister Dina, her face flushed with health once more, gave Eleanor a hug. “Bless you for warning us. I had thought to confess to him.”
How Eleanor would love to overhear such a confession. What did Dina remember of her ordeal? But the Dominicans must hear nothing of that night. “I feared as much. Say nothing. Tell them nothing. They believe they already know all, so they will hardly notice.” Eleanor kissed Dina’s cheek, nodded to Clara and Brigida. “We can and will do much better. Now go, send them off with all courtesy.”
Before turning toward the door, Brigida touched Eleanor’s arm. “Dame Katherine has something to tell you.” The three swept into the hall, shutting the door behind them.
Eleanor smiled to herself as she imagined Friar Adam’s surprise when he was shown the door.
Gazing out at the garden, she discovered an interesting tableau – Katherine and Griffin with their heads together, talking earnestly, the great wolfhounds lounging in the kitchen doorway. She approached them.
Kate had watched with interest as her mother swept the sisters back out into the garden with that scheming look of hers. But Griffin had interrupted her attempt to listen in. Irked, she was glad to see her mother approaching.
“Such a tiring pair,” Eleanor said as she reached Kate and Griffin. “Dominicans. Always preaching.”
“But you have asked them to guide your Martha House?” Kate asked, confused.
“Oh, no, they seem to have chosen me. Or, rather, Isabella Frost prompted Friar Adam to do so.”
Kate felt her jaw tightening. What was Isabella’s interest in this?
“I have warned the sisters,” Eleanor went on. “They know to send them off with all courtesy. York is full of holy men eager to guide impressionable young women. We will find someone suitable anon.” The excitement in her mother’s voice belied her weary sigh. “You are York’s Mary Magdalene to him, by the way, Katherine. I defended you sharply. But now I wonder – as she is the saint to whom their friary is dedicated, perhaps I misunderstood.”
Ignoring her mother’s attempts at humor – Kate was in no mood – she brought it back to the point that troubled her. “Isabella Frost,” she said. A meddler and a gossip, her cousin’s wife had bowed to her husband’s insistence that they host Eleanor and her beguines when they first arrived in York, but she had made no secret of her distrust and disapproval. The intolerable situation had inspired Eleanor’s hasty acceptance of Agnes Dell’s offer. “It bodes ill that she should take such an interest.”
“I did wonder.” Only now did Eleanor look closely at Kate and her companion. “Brigida said you wished to speak with me. What is it? What has happened? Is it Nan?”
Kate touched her mother’s arm.
Eleanor winced. “Nothing good follows such a gesture. Tell me, Daughter.”
“Nan is gone,” said Kate. “I trust she has simply joined Dame Agnes at her mother’s house. But there is harder news. Hans is dead. Murdered.”
Eleanor gasped, shaking her head and looking to Griffin, but he was moving off toward the kitchen, his back to her.
They knew something, Kate realized. She took her mother’s arm and escorted her after Griffin.
“For once could you not have tamed your unruly hair before you stepped out?” Eleanor blurted.