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.
“A day later Underhill appeared,” William continued, “carrying a letter of introduction from the king. Or what I took to be such. He wanted access to Lady Kirby. I told him I might not be the best person. Someone was following me. He offered his protection if I did all he said.”
And Bale’s letter carried Duke Henry’s seal.
“Did he find the shadow?”
“No. But he had little time before Lady Kirkby arrived. And then – I have wondered whether he was strangled by the one who has been shadowing me. To prevent his interfering.”
“So the dead man is Underhill?” Kate asked.
William bowed his head. “Yes,” he whispered.
“Have you ever heard the name Hubert Bale?” Berend asked.
“No,” William muttered, sounding miserable.
“What about Alice and Connor? How did they happen to be in the guesthouse that night?” Kate asked.
William rubbed his face, sat back, blinking. Kate could not remember when she had last seen him so disheveled. A long while ago, for certain. Isabella would hiss at his appearance when he joined her at the Graa residence. “Before this trouble began, Alice came to me requesting that I use my family’s influence in Beverley to find Connor work there. At the minster, preferably. I agreed to try if she would allow me to visit our son Tom, to let him know that I was someone to whom he might turn if ever he needed help. I did not ask her to identify me as his father. She meant to wed Connor, so that should have been his role. The boy would call me ‘uncle.’ It would be something. And I promised to help with his education. That night we were to meet at the guesthouse so that I could advise Connor about how to comport himself with the dean and chapter of Beverley. But Underhill came to me that day with the plan.”
“Was it he who arranged Matt’s accident?” Kate asked.
“He mentioned that he would ensure that Matt was elsewhere that night. I never imagined he would injure him.”
“And you did not think to insist that no one be harmed?”
“I trusted him. The king’s man.” William threw up his hands. Lille opened an eye, and Ghent raised his head. “I am glad to see Matt has recovered.”
“Perhaps you did not notice his limp? That he must walk with a crutch?”
Kate let him stew in that for a moment. In the silence she heard the thaw continuing up above, ice sliding down the roof. The ice jam was breached. The sound of dripping water surrounded her. For the next few days she would feel as if she were moving underwater. “When did you tell Alice of the change of plan?”
“Roger told her when he escorted her to the guesthouse.”
“William! You did not ask her? You simply sent her there?”
He glanced away.
“Of course you did not ask her. You knew she would refuse, and for good cause. Once again you cast her in the role of whore. How could you?”
“I know. I see now how – it all went so wrong. So wrong.”
Kate slapped him before she was even aware she had put thought into action. It was Geoff’s voice in her head – Steady, Kate – and Berend’s hand on hers that brought her back.
William’s eyes were as round as a child’s when waking from a nightmare.
“You treated her like a piece of property, William. Like a slave. Alice. The mother of your son. How could you do such a thing?”
He felt round for blood on his face. There was none, of course. She had not hit him that hard, or with the hand on which she wore a ring.
“How could you?” she whispered.
“I was frightened for my family.”
“She is the mother of your only son. Is he not at least family?”
“I will pay for her burial,” William said softly, “and masses for her soul.”
“And your son? I know that you cannot have custody of him, but will you support him?”
“In any way her sister Tessa will permit.”
“What of Isabella? Can you hide such expenses from her?”
He colored, cleared his throat.
“Ah, I see. You already hide much.”
“For Hazel’s sake. To keep peace in the household.”
Of course. Just for that. Not to make life easier for him. “Have you learned anything of what happened at my guesthouse that night?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“Did you see Alice afterward?” He bowed his head. “William, did you see her after the murder in the guesthouse? Was that a nod?”
He straightened up with such effort it was as if he were pushing against a weight, his face drawn, his eyes red. He admitted that he had seen Alice. She had been lurking in an alley just down Stonegate from where he had parted from Kate outside the goldsmith’s shop. “Alice accosted me, hissing that I had ruined her again. I–I pushed her back into the alleyway and warned her that she would go to the stocks, that I would name her as a scold if she tried to contact me again.”
“William! How can you accuse her of defaming you? You were the one to cause injury, not Alice.”
“I am ashamed to admit it. But I have told you.”
“Did she say anything else?”
“She said something about being followed. She was disheveled. I asked where she had slept. That is when she threw up her hands and walked back into the dark alley.”
In the silence, Kate could hear his jagged breathing, as if he were crying within. Enough. She had bullied him enough to force him to recall what she guessed he had tried to forget.
“What of your shadow?” she asked softly. “Is he gone?”
A shrug. “I have sensed eyes on me, but I might be conjuring them out of my own fear. Roger believes the danger is past.”
“You doubt him.”
William raked a hand through his hair, knocking off his hat. “I know not what to believe at present.”
Berend silently retrieved the hat and put it on William’s lap.
“What do you know of Roger’s loyalties?” Kate asked. “Does he serve only you?”
She watched as he realized what she was asking.
“He has served me faithfully.”
And so William never questioned his loyalty. He gave Roger a comfortable life; what more could he want? Like Alice, Roger was property.
William shook his head, trying to clear it, his eyes moving as if he were weighing the evidence.
Are you toying with him? You do not believe Roger is part of this, do you?
Are you suddenly William’s advocate, Geoff?
You know better. I never cared for the man. But he is in pain.
She reconsidered. “Roger might believe the danger past. Or wish to calm you. Is it not his duty to guard your family, keep the three of you safe? This might embarrass him.”
“I think it might.” William held up his goblet. “A little more?”
His hand shook as he lifted the cup after she poured. He no longer tried to mask it. Giving him a moment to collect himself, she flipped over a corner of the cloak Sam’s shadow had been wearing, looked at the matted fur lining. Well made, but old, worn.
“That is an old piece,” said William. “Are you giving that to Dame Jocasta?”
“I bought it from her.”
He let out a sharp laugh. “Why?”
She told him about the man who had followed Sam.
That sobered him. “Your servants are followed as well? What is happening, Katherine? Who can we trust? It certainly was not Roger. Sam would have recognized him.”
“I did not mean to accuse Roger.”
William seemed beyond any consolation. “Call Sam in here, would you? I would like to ask him myself.”
“He left for Beverley after the incident, to see whether Alice Hatten had simply gone home. He has not returned.”