The Service of the Dead
- Автор: Робб Кэндис
- Серия: A Kate Clifford Mystery #1
- Год: 2016
- Язык: английский
- Год: Pegasus Books
- ISBN: 978-1-68177-175-5
- Жанр: Исторические детективы
Электронная книга - «The Service of the Dead». Краткое содержание книги:
Expertly recreating the social and political upheavals of late medieval Europe and the increasing power of the wealthy merchant class, acclaimed author Candace Robb introduces a new series starring Kate Clifford, a woman forged on the warring northern marches of fourteenth century England.
Political unrest permeates York at the cusp of the fifteenth century, as warring factions take sides on who should be the rightful king – Richard II or his estranged, powerful cousin in exile, Henry Bolingbroke. Independent minded twenty-year-old Kate Clifford is struggling to dig out from beneath the debt left by her late husband. Determined to find a way to be secure in her own wealth and establish her independence in a male dominated society, Kate turns one of her properties near the minster into a guest house and sets up a business. In a dance of power, she also quietly rents the discreet bedchambers to the wealthy, powerful merchants of York for nights with their mistresses.
But the brutal murder of a mysterious guest and the disappearance of his companion for the evening threatens all that Kate has built. Before others in town hear word of a looming scandal, she must call upon all of her hard-won survival skills to save herself from ruin.
Or perhaps it was better to keep her distance. She let it be. For now the house on Castlegate was home, and she pushed on, fighting the sense of urgency that might cause her to slip in a puddle and make matters worse.
Phillip had said he would like Marie’s company at the deanery. So as soon as Kate arranged a meeting with William, she would return to the deanery with Marie, taking along sufficient clothing for both wards for a week. She hoped they need bide there no longer than that. Surely with the help of Berend and Jennet she could catch a murderer in a week.
As she and the dogs made their way round a peddler’s cart in St. Helen’s Square, she noticed both dogs glancing back behind her, their ears signaling alert. Looking round, she saw her cousin’s man Roger hurrying toward her.
He bowed curtly. “Master Frost wishes to talk to you, Mistress Clifford. When shall I tell him you will call?”
There was something about his raspy voice that set her teeth on edge. “Tell him that I can receive him at my house within the hour.”
The man continued to pace her, self-important cur.
She refused to be bullied by him. “You have your answer,” she said. “Deliver it.”
“Mistress–”
She shook her head and moved on through the square and up Coney Street, her mind already turned to wondering about the archbishop’s purpose in welcoming Lady Kirkby to York. He was not the king’s man. Did King Richard welcome Thomas Kirkby’s peace efforts? Or did he want her uncle to observe and report back? Or was her uncle in York out of disaffection with the crown? Her uncle’s ambivalence toward Archbishop Richard Scrope interested her. He said the archbishop was too devoted to his predecessor as Archbishop of York, Thomas Arundel, who was also his mentor. Not one of King Richard’s favorites by any means, for the king had executed his brother Richard, Earl of Arundel. Who might be interested in peace? The king or the duke? And to whom was her uncle most loyal? Could she trust him not to have had some hand in her troubles? She shoved that thought aside. Again. For good.
As she crossed Ousegate she prepared herself for Marie’s onslaught – she would want a full report of the day’s activities. Kate smiled in anticipation of Marie’s delight when she told her of the proposed stay at the deanery. She would save it for the end.
The bells of St. Mary’s Church were ringing nones by the time Kate unbuckled Lille’s and Ghent’s leads, and she let them rush down the alleyway to the kitchen. By the time she caught up with them, Berend stood in the open doorway laughing at their hopeful barks.
“Do not be fooled. They spent the morning in Helen’s kitchen. No one walks out of that kitchen hungry.” She patted his forearm as she stepped past him into the warm kitchen. “Phillip is unharmed. Sad and weary, but with a few days of rest he should be home.”
“God be thanked,” Berend murmured.
Her back to Kate, Marie mumbled a greeting without a pause from her work, kneading dough.
“My boots are soaked through,” Kate moaned as she settled on a bench by the fire to wrestle them off. “Did you hear, Marie? Your brother is uninjured.”
“I know. Jennet told me.” The girl pretended disinterest.
So that is how it would be. Where was Jennet? No matter. First things first. “Then you know that Connor is dead.”
A sniff and a nod. Kate waited. At last Marie turned from her work, wiping her floury hands on a rag. Her eyes were red and swollen, her voice shaky. “I will help you with your boots.” She dropped to her knees and began to tug. “You should have worn pattens.”
“I was not thinking of myself when I dressed this morning,” Kate muttered.
“No,” the girl whispered.
Kate leaned back, surrendering to the child’s struggle to separate the soaked leather boots from the swollen feet, her expression one of fierce determination.
“Your brother is eager to tell you all that happened, so that you understand,” said Kate.
Marie fell backward with the right boot in hand. “Your feet stink.”
“How kind of you to tell me.” The child made it difficult to love her.
Marie sat on the floor considering Kate, the damp, muddy boot forgotten and soiling her apron. “You said a few days of rest. Here? Or at the deanery?” she finally asked.
“At the deanery is best.”
Tears welled in the girl’s eyes, and her bottom lip quivered.
Kate could not bring herself to torment the child. “That is why he asked that you stay there as well. If you care to do so. Dean Richard is happy to have you both there.”
“Phillip asked?” Her eyes widened, a smile teasing at the corners of her mouth.
“Yes. He misses you. Will you go to him? I can take you there before sunset.” Or she could if William showed up soon. Perhaps she might send Marie with Jennet. Ah, excellent thought. Except if she learned something from William…
A knock, then Matt hobbled in.
“No need to knock, Matt, you are a member of the household,” said Kate.
Berend quickly fetched him a chair, but Matt shook his head. “I cannot stay. There is a guest in the hall, Dame Katherine. Master Frost?”
Good. He had come. Kate pressed her hands to her eyes, took a deep breath, then remembered her barely thawed feet, the soggy hose.
Marie jumped up. “I will fetch shoes and pattens for you, Dame Katherine.”
The girl was right about pattens. They made far more sense than her riding boots when navigating the waterways of the street. “On your way, tell my cousin I will be with him as soon as I have dry shoes.”
Marie nodded and was out the door before Kate could thank her.
“What happened to sweeten her mood?” Berend wondered aloud.
Kate told him about the invitation to bide with her brother at the deanery.
“Ah.” He smiled. “Good lad.”
“Where is Jennet?”
“She is out listening to the gossip about the deaths,” said Matt.
“Well done. We might learn something to our advantage.” She noticed how Matt leaned on his cane. “I would like you to stay here with Marie, keep her company and ensure that she does not wander off. Berend will bring wine and stay to witness my discussion with Master Frost.”
She saw that Berend understood. Make William uneasy. He rummaged in a corner and produced the cloak. Kate draped it over her arm.
Matt hobbled over to the fire, taking the seat Kate had vacated.
Berend poured him an ale and told him to ask Marie for some food. “Keep her busy.”
With a laugh, Matt said, “I am quite able to do that. She reminds me of my youngest brother, deep down a wounded sparrow.”
Kate liked Matt more and more.
As soon as Marie returned with dry shoes and pattens, and, bless the girl, dry hose, Kate had her hold up the cloak to screen her from view while she changed her hose. “Would you do me yet another favor? Will you keep Matt company here in the kitchen while Berend and I are talking to my cousin in the hall?” Marie quickly nodded, earnest in obedience so that her invitation to stay with her brother at the deanery was not rescinded. Kate felt a pang of sympathy for the child. “I will miss you while you are there,” she whispered.
Marie responded with a quick hug.
Kate was smiling as she called to Lille and Ghent, who were reluctant to give up their warm spaces by the fire.
William wore a fine squirrel-lined cloak and a matching fur hat. The hand that touched Kate’s face as he kissed her cheek in greeting was gloved in softest leather. “May God watch over all our loved ones,” he said. “I do not have much time, Katherine. I have an engagement in an hour.” He nodded toward the cloak draped across her arm. “You as well?”