A Murdered Peace

When Kate returned, Marie was giving Petra a cooking lesson, with much rolling of the eyes and sighing.

Jennet sat by the door keeping her hands busy with a distaff and spindle, creating a fine wool thread. Without pausing in her work, she invited Kate to sit beside her. “The girls are too busy arguing to overhear if we speak softly.”

“I called on Dame Jocasta.”

“And?”

“She was sorry Griselde found the maidservant lacking and went to fetch her.”

Jennet grinned down at the spindle. “That is a relief.”

“Yes and no. I did not mean to involve her.”

“She might have refused.”

Kate sighed as Lille settled at her feet, warming them.

“I had a visitor,” said Jennet with a glint of excitement in her eyes.

“Elric? Berend?”

“No, sorry, one of my eyes and ears, the scrivener I’ve befriended. He’s discovered more about Jon Horner.”

A good source, eager to make trouble for a man who gave those in his profession a bad name. Horner had set himself up as a scrivener to prey on the desperate, threatening to reveal their bad debts and illegal trades if they did not pay for his discretion – charging a fee more than double the customary.

“Anything to explain his relationship with Merek?” Kate asked.

“No. I think there is something in this. Maybe Petra’s dreams have me heeding my feelings.” Jennet paused to attend to a knot in the wool. “There. So. It seems Horner pried into the business dealings of elderly, infirm men with young wives, which included four now dead – Alan Barker, John Atterby, Adam Nottingham, and Ross Wheeldon. He’d also noted Dame Eleanor’s evident wealth, and newly widowed with no husband to guide her.”

“Mother?” Kate sat back, aghast.

Jennet nodded. “That was disturbing, but I was more interested in the other widows I mentioned. Might whatever Merek handed Horner have been a gift for one of them? Was he seeking a wealthy wife? The lady’s glove in his room, the one you have not shown Sir Elric, might it belong to one of these women? Who then poisoned him?” She bent to another snag. “Two of them are betrothed – Alyse Nottingham and Mary Barker. But Philippa Atterby and Cecily Wheeldon are not. I thought it odd, that he was keeping notes on Wheeldon, considering he’d worked for her.”

“Was there anything of interest in his business with her?”

“Only that my friend could find no records of it.”

“None?”

Jennet shook her head. “Do you think that’s why he dressed like a peacock? Thinking women would flock to him, like peahens?”

“Heaven help any woman who pecked at his feet,” Kate said, grinning. “What does it mean, that he found no records?”

“Possibly the widow keeps them close. As you do.”

Kate searched her memory about Philippa Atterby. Someone had mentioned her recently. An interesting story. Ah, it came back to her. “Not long ago – perhaps a fortnight? – Philippa Atterby spoke to Mother about joining her Martha House. Her family was pushing her into a marriage she did not want and she hoped to escape it by withdrawing into a holy life.”

“Do you think her family would have pushed Jon Horner?” asked Jennet.

Kate thought of Philippa’s parents. Her grandfather had once been mayor, her father both bailiff and sheriff. “I doubt it.”

Jennet leaned closer. “What did Dame Eleanor decide?”

“She explained the sisters’ day – all the prayer and work, and asked her whether that was what she truly wanted. When Philippa hesitated, Dame Eleanor offered to speak to her family about her own wishes. Philippa left in some anger.” Kate empathized with Philippa as well as with her mother. She knew the lengths a young widow with an overbearing family might go to avoid their interference. “It might be worth speaking to Dame Eleanor about both Philippa Atterby and Jon Horner.”

“We seem to go farther from the point with every piece of information,” Jennet grumbled.

Kate agreed. If they did not find a pattern that pointed to the murderer … “We need a plan for plucking Berend out of the castle and helping him slip away.”

“Where would he go?”

“His land?”

They were interrupted by Marie, who flopped down beside Kate with a dramatic sigh. “I despair. She will never be a cook.”

Petra remained at the worktable frowning at the watery dough dripping from her hands.

Biting back a smile, Kate turned to Jennet. “I will visit Jocasta and Eleanor in the morning.” She pressed Jennet’s arm. “Thank you. I do not know what I would do without you.”

Jennet ducked her head. “You give me the questions. All I do is pass them on and then wait for some answers. But I will think about the last item.”

Berend’s escape. Kate nodded.

Marie poked Kate’s arm. “Did Sir Elric forget us?”

Kate drew her close and kissed her forehead, smiling up at Petra, who stood perplexed over her failure. “The waiting is difficult, I know.” And it was hardest for the girls, it seemed. “We need movement, eh? Come, let’s go to the hall.” Rising, Kate asked Jennet to see what she might do with the dough.

Out in the hall, where there was space, Kate led Petra and Marie through a set of exercises that strengthened their arms for archery, then made a game out of seeing who could stand still the longest. When at last Elric and Matt arrived, without Berend, the girls were exhausted, their disappointment expressed with long faces and teary eyes, but no melodrama. They each took one of Elric’s hands as they led him to a chair by the fire, begging him for information. He looked exhausted, his eyes shadowed, his movements heavy as he settled into the chair. Kate sent Matt to the kitchen to fetch Jennet with some refreshment.

“I saw Berend moved to far more comfortable quarters, and Sisters Clara and Agnes from the Martha House are seeing to the sores from the shackles and ensuring that he has food that will speed his healing,” Elric assured Marie and Petra. “Until we have something that will satisfy the king’s men, he is safest at the castle.”

“Is he? Is he really?” asked Petra.

“I believe that to be so in the circumstances,” he said.

She gave him a solemn nod.

“Might we visit him there?” asked Marie.

“No. That would be unwise,” said Elric.

The child kicked a stool, but did not whine.

Kate touched his shoulder. “Jennet will bring you food and drink while I see the girls to bed,” she told him.

She coaxed Marie and Petra out the door and up the steps, promising that she would tell them all she could in the morning.

“Do you trust that he is safe?” Marie asked when they were settled in bed.

As safe as Elric can make him, Kate thought. But to them she merely said, “I do,” then hugged them both before blowing out the lamp near the door. “Now try to sleep. You want to give those muscles a good rest after all that effort, eh?”

She tiptoed out, pausing on the landing with a warm sense of gratitude for the small rituals involving the children. Her touchstones, they steadied her. As she moved down the steps she whispered prayers that she was about to hear nothing that she might not share with the girls in the morning. But the guardedness of Elric’s gaze as she entered the hall warned her that those particular prayers would not be answered this night.