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.
“Sister Dina’s bedchamber,” Nan whimpered.
There were several more bloody prints on the inside of the outer door.
“What is it, Katherine? Why are you here with the hounds?” Dame Eleanor demanded as she approached across the small garden.
Seeing to your latest disaster, Kate thought. But this was not the time for grudges. “Lille and Ghent sensed trouble. Then Nan cried out. There is blood in the kitchen – on the floor, the walls, the doors, and pooled in the alleyway.” Kate stepped back to let her mother see, Jennet holding the light down toward the floor.
“God help us.” Dame Eleanor turned to Nan. “Where is Sister Dina?”
Nan ducked her head. “I know not, mistress.”
“Come with me,” said Kate, taking the lantern from Jennet, nodding to Nan to follow her into Dina’s bedchamber. She shone the light on the small space. No blood on the floor. But smears on the bed. “Look round. Is anything missing?”
“Gown, hose, shoes,” said Eleanor, who had come in behind them. “How is it that you did not raise the alarm at once, Nan? Where were you when all this was happening?” She stood with hands on hips, chin forward, eyes steely. Despite her new, modest garb – white wimple and veil, soft gray gown: she had several, well cut of the finest wool and silk, her household keys hanging from a simple leather girdle – Eleanor still impressed one as the lady of the manor ready to call down her armed servants to fend off an attack. Always quick to blame.
Nan shook her head with a small cry and scuttled from the room to the garden. Kate nudged her mother aside and followed.
The widow, Agnes, had her arms round Nan and was rubbing her back as one might do to calm a sobbing child. Agnes was a short but substantial woman, half as wide as she was tall, with upper arms as big as hams. She stuck out her heavy chin as if defying Eleanor to say her nay.
“She has just returned from her nightly vigil at her mother’s bed, is that not so, Nan?”
A sniffle, a nod.
“Nightly vigil?” Eleanor looked to Sisters Clara and Brigida, who stood in the garden halfway between the house and the kitchen, holding hands, looking unsure where they should be. “Did you know of this, either of you?”
Sister Clara, plain, competent, the guiding spirit of the house, said, “No. I should have been informed.” Sister Brigida, bold-featured, tall, a brilliant scholar, seemed diminished by the early waking, the confusion of the scene. She simply shook her head.
“And have you left the kitchen door unlocked when you depart each night?” Kate asked the maidservant.
“Well of course she does,” Agnes snapped. “She does not hold the keys, Dame Eleanor does.”
Kate looked to her mother, who visibly trembled with righteous indignation.
“I don’t understand,” said Eleanor. “I lock the house and the kitchen every night. It is the rule in a Martha House. Have you found a way to unlock it, Nan?” By now Agnes and Nan stood apart. When Agnes began to answer, Eleanor snapped, “Be quiet. Let the truant answer.”
“I know how to prop the door open so that it is not noticeable but the lock is useless,” said Nan.
Eleanor took a deep breath. “Sister Agnes, I–”
“You might deal with that later,” Kate said quietly to her mother as she turned to address Dina’s two companions. “Brigida, Clara, have you seen Dina this night? Did you hear anything?”
“I heard nothing, nor have I seen her since we parted at the end of evening prayers,” said Sister Clara in her Bavarian accent.
Sister Brigida shook her head. “Nor I. May God be watching over her.” Her accent was softer than Clara’s, more French, like that of Kate’s wards, Marie and Phillip.
Both women crossed themselves. Dame Eleanor did as well.
“Agnes? Did you hear or see anything?” Kate asked.
“Nothing.” She was a bit breathless, but then so were they all.
Kate took her at her word. For now. “What was Dina’s room used for in the past?” she asked.
“Boarders, I screened it off for boarders,” said Agnes. “But I’ve had none since autumn. Of course there will be no more, as it is now a Martha House.” So very breathless, and her eyes scanning the garden as if looking for something.
“Come into the kitchen,” said Kate. The woman bowed her head and followed. “Do you notice anything missing?”
“No, but perhaps in daylight …”
Sweat shone on the woman’s face. It could be many things – concern for Sister Dina, remorse for keeping Nan’s nighttime absences a secret, fear for her own safety. Agnes might even regret offering the house to Eleanor. She would not be the first to realize too late the risk involved in participating in Eleanor’s schemes.
Kate stepped into the bedchamber, pulled off the bloody sheet, and wadded it up in her hand. Back in the kitchen she nodded to Jennet. “Stay with them. Berend and I will take Lille and Ghent, see whether they are able to track Sister Dina.” She led the hounds out into the garden.
Matt, pacing by the hedgerow gate, called out, “What is it? What has happened?”
Kate shook her head. “No time now. Protect the children.”
He nodded and turned back to the house.
Berend joined her as she let Lille and Ghent smell the sheet. “Track.”
She had little need to command them. They were already following a scent, noses down. They returned to the pool of blood in the alley, a dark stain in the pale, predawn light. A pause as they reached Hertergate – glancing to the right, toward the King’s Staithe, then to the left, toward Castlegate. The scent moved in both directions? The hounds chose the staithe, snuffling their way down the street, onto the dock area, lost the scent at the water. No, no, now they picked it up a bit upriver, along the staithe, then lost it again in the incoming tide. On a gamble, she led them up to Ousegate. They snuffled around, lifting their heads, lowering them, then sat. Nothing strong enough to warrant tracking.
Berend was still standing at the edge of the water. He pointed to a small boat on the opposite bank. Shrugged. They returned to Hertergate, silent, thoughtful. She knew that he knew the memories called up by the blood, and a young woman she cared for gone missing. Her friend Maud, long ago …
“We will find her, Dame Katherine.”
“I pray we find her alive, Berend. So much blood.”
“May God watch over her.”
Mother, Mother, what have you done?
And she will find a way to blame you for all the ill that comes of this, Geoff whispered in her mind.
Eleanor had expected trouble from the silly maidservant. But not of this sort. Considering Nan’s bright clothes and roaming smiles, she had anticipated a lover sneaking in, or Nan sneaking out. She felt betrayed, a too-familiar experience and one that she would not tolerate. She would have her man Griffin investigate the story of a dying mother. As Katherine and her implausible cook withdrew with the dogs, Eleanor resumed her challenge to Agnes and her maidservant.
“Was Sister Dina aware you were not here at night, Nan?” Eleanor asked, not troubling to soften her tone.
Agnes and Nan had settled on a bench in the garden, arms round each other, looking frightened.
“So much blood,” Agnes whispered. “Who is to protect us?”
Coddled city women with no backbone. “I will send for my man Griffin,” said Eleanor. She should not have agreed to the sisters’ injunction against men on the property. “Now answer my question, Nan. Was Sister Dina aware of your absence at night?”