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.
“My hair is the least of our concerns,” Kate said, hating herself for reaching up to tuck a stray lock behind her ear.
Eleanor sank down on the bench to which Kate had led her, leaning her head against the cool wall in the kitchen. “No, no, that is not what I had intended to say. Forgive me,” she whispered.
In times of stress she was a cornered cat, hissing and slashing. Accustomed to the behavior, Kate waited quietly as her mother composed herself. As a child, Kate had taken the criticisms to heart, despite her father’s reassurances that her mother did not mean what she said when she lashed out. He tried to teach her that patient silence afforded the best outcome. Her brothers all learned it. But not Kate; she’d winced at each insult. Still did.
“Hans. Dear Hans,” Eleanor’s voice broke. She bowed her head.
Sitting beside her, Kate took her mother’s hand. “I am sorry to deliver such sad news.”
He had been Eleanor’s favorite of Ulrich’s household staff. She had assured Thomas Holme that he would not be sorry for employing Hans, that he was efficient, cheerful, energetic, quick, and always willing to assist others to ensure that all was as it should be. Eleanor had known him for years – indeed, Hans claimed he remembered Kate from when she and Geoffrey were first learning to walk, when he and Werner accompanied Ulrich Smit on the journeys that brought him through Northumberland. For her part, Kate only vaguely remembered a group of men accompanying Ulrich. Her grief rose from a more recent affection for the man.
Eleanor raised her head, dabbing her eyes with a cloth she slipped from inside her sleeve. “How did he die? Where?” She listened quietly to Kate’s description of Hans’s injuries, where he had been found. “Heaven help us,” she whispered, nodding to Griffin as he handed her a cup of water.
“Boiled, Dame Eleanor, as you like it,” he said.
Kate wondered what had led to her mother’s new whim. Suddenly she could not abide the taste of water unless it was boiled, strained, then stored in a cool place with a cloth over the top. Or was Kate too quick to deem it a whim – might her mother fear someone might poison her?
Eleanor drank. Breathed. “Werner. Does he know?”
“He is with Hans,” said Kate.
“Yes. Of course he should be. I do not know Werner as well as I did Hans. He is so quiet. I agreed to his offer to accompany us because of his strength. When he traveled with Ulrich he served as a retainer, but at home in Strasbourg he served as a gardener and groom. Not as clever or personable as Hans. Dear Hans. To die so horribly, so far from home.” She glanced up. “Forgive me for going on like this. I cannot imagine – you have described his wounds, but how? Where was he when attacked?”
When Griffin described the brawl on the street, Eleanor frowned in disbelief. “Hans reeked of ale? I never knew him to take a drop.”
“According to Werner, Hans has of late been sneaking out after all are abed,” said Griffin, “spending his nights in the taverns. His work has suffered. Thomas Holme meant to speak with you about him.”
“Merciful Mother. Why did Holme wait so long? And you, Griffin, why did you not tell me?”
“I heard of it only this morning. All I knew of Hans and Werner is that they were both tolerable traveling companions, neither drank too much in my company, both kept themselves tidy, caused no trouble. In Strasbourg I had little need to befriend the household servants.”
“God help me, I meant to do good bringing them here, accepting Agnes’s offer. Ashes. Ashes.” Eleanor had gone quite pale, and she seemed more frightened than grieving. She kept trying to catch Griffin’s eye, but he kept his gaze averted.
Kate thought it might be best to separate them, try to speak with them individually.
“Do you need food, Mother? Or to lie down? There is a bed a few steps away.”
Eleanor waved her on. “I am stronger than you give me credit for. Send Werner to me. I wish to speak with him.” She took a deep breath. “There is much to do. I am responsible for a household. Should I tell the sisters?”
Kate told her that Brigida already knew.
“No. It is my place. You should have left it to me.”
“The sheriff or his sergeant will be here soon, and all the city will know,” said Kate.
“Ah. Of course. I shall tell the others when the friars depart. What a cursed morning. We must consider what the news of Hans’s murder will do to Dina, already so burdened. I cannot guess. Perhaps I should wait to tell Dina and Clara.”
“The sheriff might send someone to question all of you, Mother. It is best that Dina and Clara hear it from you first. Tell them, then go about your day. Griffin will be here to protect you. And Berend is close.” Kate saw her mother’s wounded expression at her impatient tone.
“I will tell them.” Eleanor rose and walked out into the garden.
Kate followed. “Mother–”
“We will pray for you. Go. Find the answer to this nightmare before we suffer more loss.”
As Kate opened the hedgerow gate, she overheard her mother telling Griffin to talk to Werner, find out whether Hans might have said anything in his cups. Damn her. Did she think this was a game? Kate turned round and retraced her steps.
“Is there something that I should know?”
Eleanor looked at Kate, aghast. “That was not meant for your ears. I raised you to keep your own counsel and let others keep theirs.”
Fighting to hold her temper in check, Kate took her mother’s hands, looking into the eyes that would not settle on hers. “What do you fear Hans might have divulged?”
An impatient sigh. “I should think it obvious. Household servants know all sorts of intimate details.”
Her mother’s hands were cold, but her face was flushed and damp. She was frightened. Very frightened. Kate fought the urge to berate her mother – What are you thinking? Do you realize the danger? “Of course.” Kissing her mother’s cheek, Kate took her leave.
8
Sheriffs and Archbishops
“Maddening woman! How can I help her if she will not confide in me?”
“I am glad that the children are in the main house doing their lessons with Sister Brigida,” Berend said, calmly closing the kitchen door behind Kate. He leaned against it, arms folded. “Jennet told me of Hans’s death and Nan’s disappearance. Would I be correct in guessing that Dame Eleanor is the maddening woman, and that she still will not confide in you?”
“How could you know?” Kate could not help but smile at his teasing eyes.
Sitting down near the window, she welcomed Lille and Ghent to settle at her feet. “Bless you,” she whispered, rubbing their ears. She saw that Berend had been chopping meat and vegetables for a stew. Wonderfully ordinary work.
He handed her a bowl of ale. “What of the friars?”
She had forgotten them. “They have been sent away. Unsuitable. But I cannot help but wonder about their appearance. They say Isabella Frost suggested they come. But is it possible they came here, today, because of Griffin’s presence on Toft Green last night? Or for the same reason that Elric’s men went there, something related to the intruder in the Martha House?”
Berend frowned, considering. “Their abbey does overlook the green. And if they are ministering to the soldiers, they might hear much. So what are you thinking?”
“I wish I knew. It’s all a jumble.” She smiled as Ghent responded to her tone by resting his great, grizzly head on her lap, gazing up with soulful eyes. “Griffin puzzles me. I begin to trust him, then he fails to follow the men out on the street and loses Nan. As Ulrich’s retainer, surely he was trained to consider priorities. Which makes me wonder whether his are the same as ours. And Mother seemed distracted, as if the news of Hans’s death–” Kate shook her head.