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.
“What happened between Mother and Ulrich?” She spoke into the silence that had stretched out too long. “And why is my uncle so keen to remind me that Mother is a Frost, but I am a Clifford? He is warning me about something, and I believe it has to do with Mother’s silence on the subject of Ulrich Smit. How can I win her trust?”
“God knows you’ve tried. Stubborn woman,” Berend muttered, but he did not look up, the table creaking as he kneaded the dough.
Was he angry with her for the risk she’d taken with John Paris? As her brothers would have been? “I am home, safe, unscathed,” she said softly.
“God be thanked.” Now he looked up, his scarred face dark with imagined grief. “I would kill anyone who harmed you.”
“I can defend myself. I took Lille and Ghent, and was armed with a dagger and my axe.”
A long silence. She could hear Berend breathing, a rhythm that matched her own heartbeat. Lille turned over with a shuddering sigh, causing Ghent to shift and thump his tail. It broke the tension. Berend returned to kneading the dough, Kate poured herself more ale.
“It is strange that Dean Richard considers Dame Eleanor a Frost,” said Berend. “His brother’s wife. And she took your father’s name, she’s kept it. It is as if he needs to remove all connection with her.”
“I have never known my uncle to behave so. Could it just be the connection to the beguines? Has he heard about some incident in Strasbourg? Or is this not about Mother but about her nephew William Frost?” Kate drank down the rest of the ale, hoping it would stop her mind from spinning with questions. “If only Marie had come to me when the man asked about the Christ child. It was two days before Robin frightened Sister Dina. We would have been prepared, one of us watching the Martha House. I should have seen that Marie was troubled.”
“She guards herself closely. How could you know? I noticed nothing out of the ordinary when she helped me in the kitchen, though now I look back and see that she has been too quiet, too courteous. I wonder whether the thieves moved when they did because Griffin was away, and they knew the house unguarded?”
“That might have been any time,” said Kate. “Griffin had not planned to return to the Martha House. The sisters wanted no men on the property. But I see what you mean, Nan might have complained to Robin about not having a man around the house to see to the heavy chores. She inspired him to take the risk. Poor fool. I pray we find Nan attending Robin at the friary.”
“I would not hold out hope. Would she not send word to her mother and the children if that were so?”
“That worries me as well.” Kate reached down to stroke Ghent’s ears. “Werner and Griffin – Mother knows something about their disappearance, I am certain.”
“They’ve been seen at Toft Green. Asking questions. They were not well received. A dangerous time to be asking questions of strangers, especially armed strangers.”
Lille whimpered in her sleep, waking herself, shifting so that she was reclining with her front paws crossed, watching the doorway. Not yet on alert, but watchful. Perhaps she’d heard someone passing the kitchen on their way to the privy behind it.
“What does Lionel have to do with any of this?” Kate wondered.
“Perhaps nothing but that he seems to ally himself with the underbelly of York.” Berend wiped his brow, leaving a streak of flour. “Though no one seems to be behaving honorably at present. It was a bold move, for William Frost and the others to send money to Duke Henry. They are betting on Lancaster and want to be in his good graces.”
“That is the prevailing wind. We never saw the number of soldiers we’d expected. And those who did answer the call are slipping away. It seems no one wishes to be remembered as having supported the king against Lancaster.” Kate rubbed her temples, her head aching with all the threads she was trying to follow. “Damn the royal cousins. Where do our troubles end and theirs begin?”
Berend gave the dough a few more thumps, brushed off his hands, and covered the bowl with a cloth. He came round the table and drew her up onto her feet. “Time to rest. You will sleep better in your own bed tonight.”
She touched Berend’s flour-streaked cheek. “You never fail me. I can say that of no one else, at any time in my life.”
“My life is yours.”
She was blessed with her loyal household. “Good night, my dear friend.” Calling softly to Lille and Ghent, she walked out into the night, heading to the main house, and sleep, if it would come.
A soft rain had begun, the air sharp with the smell that presaged a storm. Kate stepped out from beneath the overhanging trees and lifted her face to receive the cool drops.
He is the only one who has never failed you? You forget your twin.
No, Geoff. You took a risk that led to almost certain death, and you lost. I lost. Having you in my mind is not the same as having you beside me, to fight beside me in the flesh.
She felt the heat of her twin’s emotion. It was an old argument, never resolved because it was true. Lille made a soft sound and headed toward the hedgerow gate, Ghent following. Someone stood there, reaching out a hand, tentative, shy, letting the hounds sniff it.
“Mother?” Kate stepped between the dogs. “Are you wakeful?”
“I heard the rain. Smelled it. I love this moment, when the rain returns after the heat. Like a benediction, God’s grace lightly touching us.”
A memory. Sensing her mother in the doorway of her tiny bedchamber. Eleanor had taken her hand and led her out into the fields. The trees rustling with the freshening breeze, the grasses swaying, clouds scudding across the night sky, making the stars wink out until the darkness was vast and terrifying. Too big! Kate had whispered. But her mother had laughed and told her that nothing had changed but the light, the sky was just as big in bright daylight as in a storm. But Kate could not stop shivering. Dance with me, Daughter, dance with me! Her mother had taken her hands and led them in a jig. Laughter rose up, and her fears were forgotten as Kate and her mother danced until they tumbled down in giggly exhaustion.
“Do you remember the night we danced in the rain?” Kate asked.
Eleanor reached out and touched Kate’s cheek. “I do. The memory is precious to me. For once you found courage in dancing in joy rather than in weapons and war dogs. You were mine that night. For one sweet moment before it all fell apart.”
Kate took her mother’s hand and kissed it. “I am glad you are here.” She meant it.
An intake of breath. Eleanor squeezed Kate’s hand. “Bless you for saying that. I wish – I should have told you at once. I set Griffin and Werner the task of finding Hans’s murderer. I believed they were better suited than you and your – household to do so. They know him far better.”
At last, a slight opening. “Do you know where they are?” Kate asked, gently withdrawing her hand.
“No. I told them to return when they had news.”
A very slight opening. Kate could not think what to say that would not dislodge the wedge in the doorway.
Eleanor leaned back as if to feel the rain on her face, a glimpse of the impetuous young woman her father once described as a forest sprite, never still, always flitting from place to place, never settling. Kate had laughed at the description, so opposite to her own experience with her mother, always sitting at her embroidery or the loom, urging her daughter to sit beside her and learn a woman’s ways. Finding fault with everything and everyone.