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.
“Prayers? A welcome when I return? I am leaving in much more haste than I had expected.” His expression was earnest, encouraging. “I have handled this awkwardly.” He held out the roll. “Will you sign it?”
“It must be done in your presence?”
“That is what I promised His Grace and Thomas Graa.”
“I will sign it in Thomas Graa’s chambers. Is that acceptable?”
“You do not trust me?”
“Your offer is generous, but I never sign anything before I’ve had time for careful consideration, Uncle. I pray you understand.”
The dean bowed to the wisdom of that. “And if you refuse, how am I to know?”
She did not mean to refuse, but it was not the moment to reassure him. “Thomas Graa has the means to send a messenger to Westminster. I must think, Uncle.” I must discuss this with Berend, she thought. “But I am moved and grateful. You honor me.”
He shook his head, frowning, but there was no anger in his voice. “I should have guessed you would be cautious. But I agree.” He handed her the roll.
“May God watch over you in your journey.” She kissed his cheek. “I pray you are able to stay peaceably above the fray, Uncle.”
“And you as well. God go with you, Katherine.”
She withdrew from the room in a daze, her mind unable to quiet.
In the corridor, Arnold, the vicar choral, shuffled by with a large box out of which peeked one of the pelts that cushioned her uncle’s bare feet when he rose from sleep. A man who loved his comfort. She had a nagging feeling that she had missed something with her uncle, but what? Perhaps she should return. Or invite him to dine at her home before he left? Resolved, she continued on to the kitchen, pausing just outside, listening to Helen and Jennet laughing at the antics of the household cat, Claws. How wonderfully ordinary. Stepping into the room, Kate sought a chair, settling with a sigh.
“Might I have some brandywine?”
“Oh! In all this fuss I forgot to fetch you something to warm you. Forgive me. Did the dean not offer you anything?” Helen tsked as she went for the flask and found a goblet not yet packed. Italian glass, a vibrant blue. “I see he upset you, as he has done us all with this murderous haste.” Helen sighed. “I shall miss both of you so. As will the dean.”
“I cannot bear to lose either of you. I don’t know what to think – I called him a coward and he offered me a great gift. I’m not so much upset with him as confused. Come dine with us tomorrow. Berend would enjoy the opportunity to make some special dishes, and you can say farewell to the girls.”
“Oh, I should like that. I will pose it to your uncle.” Helen kissed Kate’s cheek, but as she resettled, her expression clouded. “Though I fear he will decline. He has not been himself.”
“Shall I go back and ask him myself?”
“No, no, it’s better coming from me. I can be quite persuasive.” A secret smile.
Kate drank down the brandywine much more quickly than was wise, bringing tears to her eyes.
Jennet pressed her hand, apparently misinterpreting the tears. “What urgent work awaits the dean in Westminster?” she asked Helen, giving Kate time to recover.
“Keeping the king’s peace, collecting taxes to fill his coffers, executing his treaties – all this must continue despite the cousins’ conflict,” said Helen.
“But is it Richard’s peace, or Henry’s?” asked Jennet.
Helen sniffed. “Do not think I hesitated to point that out to the dean. ‘Would it not be wise to wait here until the matter is settled? You might not even be in the new government. King Richard might purge all his officers in spite. And Henry would most certainly wish to choose his own men.’ But he is determined to depart by week’s end.”
“Yes, he sounded resolved.” Kate rose. “And I must be on my way. If I linger much longer, we shall cry on each other’s shoulders and the friars will be at their dinner when I arrive.” She plucked her hood from a chair near the fire, winning a growl from Claws, who had been guarding it. “I forget. Is Claws the deanery cat, or will she travel with you?”
“With me, my dear. A kitchen is a hellhole without a good mouser.” Helen rose to embrace Kate, kissing her cheek. “May God watch over you, and may you find joy in all your days.”
“And you, Helen. May God watch over you both.”
Stepping out of the deanery, Jennet told Kate of her morning’s work, observing Bran among the merchant stalls on Ouse Bridge. Winding round the shoppers, waiting until they were caught up in negotiations with a merchant or in heated conversations. Snip, snip and the purse slipped into his tunic. “He does not look to me like a man who believes he is about to make his fortune by returning to the Martha House to steal a golden idol.” But she had failed to speak to him. One of his intended victims got to him before she had the chance, drawing a knife on him, discreetly, hidden from the crowd, and threatening to castrate him if he ever saw his face again. “I can outpace most runners, but not a man desperate to save his cock.”
They were laughing as they approached the stonemasons’ lodge and spied Phillip standing over a grinding stone.
“I want a moment with him,” Kate said.
He had already caught sight of them, waving. His face, apron, and hair were white with the fine dust from sharpening a pile of chisels. He set the tools aside, wiping his hands on his apron. It did little good – he left a streak of white across his brow as he raked back his hair. “Did you hear? Helen and the dean are going south?”
“Just now, yes. Had you known they were going?”
He shook his head. “I will miss them. Helen fears it will be a long while before they return.”
“I will not be so comfortable about your biding with the Granthams now. You say they are stingy with food.”
“That was my story for Helen.” Phillip grinned, wiped his nose on his sleeve, leaving more streaks. Like the storied Scottish warriors who painted themselves before battle. “Is Dame Eleanor’s Welshman escorting them?” he asked.
“Why would you think that?”
“I saw him there yesterday. Early. And then again last night. Well, I think it was him, red hair in the lamplight.”
Kate glanced at Jennet, who shook her head. She’d not managed to track Griffin. The man’s talent lay in disappearing, it seemed. “Tell me all that you noticed, Phillip.”
He looked at the two of them. “What’s wrong?”
“Much is wrong, else why would we have so many soldiers crowding inside the gates?” said Jennet.
Phillip shrugged. “They say many of them are leaving. That knight at your house on High Petergate – Sir Alan? Griselde says he is there all alone now, and she expects him to be gone any day.”
Kate shook her head in wonder. “You have your finger on the pulse of the city, living at Hugh Grantham’s.”
“You might as well if you moved to the High Petergate house when Sir Alan leaves. Then I could see you and Marie and Petra every day.”
Or if she moved to a larger house just past Stonegate.
“When you saw Griffin, was he alone?” Jennet asked.
“The redheaded Welshman?”
Jennet nodded.
“Yes. He has always been alone when I have seen him. But last night he was with Dean Richard. In the minster. I was taking some food to Master Hugh. He was working out a problem with one of the stonemasons up above the chapter house. I noticed the dean kneeling in one of the chantry chapels as I passed. When I came back through, Griffin was speaking to the dean. As I said, copper hair in the lamplight.”
“Kneeling with him?”
Phillip shook his head. “No, standing, though Dean Richard was still kneeling. The dean bowed his head and crossed himself while Griffin was talking.”