A Murdered Peace
- Автор: Робб Кэндис
- Серия: A Kate Clifford Mystery #3
- Год: 2018
- Язык: английский
- Год: Pegasus Books
- ISBN: 9781681779270
- Жанр: Исторические детективы
Электронная книга - «A Murdered Peace». Краткое содержание книги:
England still in tumult at the start of the fifteenth century, as Kate Clifford finds herself working to prove the innocence of her longtime confidante.
It is deep winter in York, 1400, the ground frozen, the short days dimmed with the smoke from countless fires, the sun, when it shines, low in the sky. It is rumored that the Epiphany Uprising, meant to relieve the realm of the Henry the usurper and return King Richard to the throne has, instead, spelled his doom. As long as Richard lives, he is a threat to Henry. So, too, the nobles behind the plot. The ringleaders have been caught, some slaughtered as they fled west by folk loyal to Henry, and the king's men now search the towns for survivors.
A perilous time, made worse for Kate Clifford by the disappearance of Berend, her cook and confidante, shortly after Christmas. Her niece saw his departure in a dream – he said he was honor bound to leave. Honor bound – to a former lord? One of the nobles who led the uprising? Is he alive? She is hardly consoled when Berend reappears, wounded, secretive, denying any connection to the uprising, but refusing to explain himself. When he is accused of brutally murdering a spice seller in the city, Kate discovers a chest of jewels in his possession. Some of the jewels belong to her old friend Lady Margery, wanted by the king for her husband’s part in the uprising. For the sake of their long friendship, and the love she and her wards bear for him, Kate wants to believe his innocence. So, too, does Sir Elric. And he has the powerful backing of the Earl of Westmoreland. All she need do is confide in him. If only she trusted her heart.
Noticing some of the soldiers regarding her, she embarked on a meandering course to Jocasta Sharp’s house. Crossing into Stonegate, she slipped down the alley that led to Drusilla Seaton’s home. The maidservant answered on Kate’s knock, shaking her head. Her mistress had returned from a night out and gone straight to bed. It took a little persuading to convince the woman that Kate wished only to pause long enough to catch her breath – the mist was chilling her – before she moved on. Stationing herself in a window, she watched the alley for a decade of Hail Mary’s, and when no one had passed through by then, she thanked the puzzled maidservant and hurried on through to Grape Lane, which she traversed only so far as another small alleyway, and so on until she wound up in Dame Jocasta’s back garden. The sun was just breaking through the mist, creating eerie swirls that dizzied her as she lifted her eyes to a man crouched on the kitchen roof, replacing tiles. Another man stood near the rain barrel at the corner of the house, the tool for breaking through the ice dangling from his hand. She nodded to both of them as if her appearing there were the most ordinary event, and knocked on the rear door of the house.
A lad opened the door, and Jocasta’s terrier, Lady Gray, came rushing out on her short legs to circle Kate and greet her with happy barks. As Kate scooped up the dog she heard Dame Jocasta calling to the lad to “step away from that door! What were you about?”
“Dame Jocasta?” Kate called softly as she stepped into the house, standing still for a moment with the squirming terrier in her arms, letting her eyes adjust to the soft candlelight. Every shutter in the house was closed against the daylight. A wise precaution.
“My dear Katherine.” Jocasta stepped out of the darkness to pluck Lady Gray from her arms and set her on the floor. “Forgive my witless prattle. I did not anticipate– But why did you come to the garden door? Were you followed?”
“I noticed no one, but mean to take no risks. I come to warn you of the temper of the city.”
“I have heard,” said Jocasta. “Sir Peter Angle is keen to stir up the people so that he might play the hero. Sir Elric says he will have all he can do to contain the damage that arrogant fool might wreak.”
“Sir Elric? When did you speak with him?”
“Why, last night, of course. He has already suggested ways we might be less obvious. And he promises that his men will be invisible.”
That solved the mystery of where he had spent the night. Kate tried to hide her surprise with an innocuous comment about being glad Jocasta felt reassured by his presence.
“I am indeed. He gave instructions to my usual helpers in how to remain hidden yet with clear sight of the doors or the windows – all the places someone might try to sneak into the house. And he showed them how to have the advantage when creeping up on an intruder. They could talk of nothing else when they came in this morning to break their fasts before going to their homes to sleep. He has promised that at least one of his men will be here at all times to assist until the danger is past. Bless you, Katherine.”
Was ever a woman more wrong about a man? Kate thought.
Do not taunt yourself, Kate, Geoff whispered in her mind.
Jocasta tilted her head, studying Kate. “You did not know of this, that he had watched through the night.”
“No. I had asked him to set some men to watch from today.”
Jocasta smiled. “God guided you in this. You opened your heart, and He showed you the way.”
Divine providence might guide Jocasta, but it had never figured in Kate’s decisions. Her own heart had led her into trusting Elric, and it had not led her astray. She was grateful for that.
“You carried in the chill of the morning, that clinging mist that turns to ice against the skin. Will you come warm yourself?”
“Later, my friend.” As she was turning away, Kate remarked, “You have improved on the disguise. For a moment I did not guess who the lad was.”
“I thought it wise. But I am worried. She has hardly spoken to me. As long as you are here …”
Kate owed it to Jocasta, having thrust this upon her. “Of course.”
Jocasta led Kate down the passageway to the hall, where Margery sat primly on a chair near the fire, feet together, posture upright, hands folded, chin up, dark hair escaping the felt hat, falling down over watchful eyes. She made a comely lad, though a close observer might notice a weight about his features, wise beyond his years, the dusting of freckles and the creases that suggested a happy disposition such a contrast to the eyes – grave, unblinking.
“Katherine.” In another time, when Margery took her hand Kate would have smiled, anticipating her friend’s impish grin and a boast about how well she had disguised herself. Who would think that Lady Margery, who traveled with cartloads of gorgeous clothing, could be hiding behind such a costume? But not today. She was solemn as she said, “I would say you look well, but I know you, Katherine, I know those shadows beneath your eyes bespeak nights spent pacing as you worry. I beg your forgiveness for burdening you with my trouble.” Her entire being bespoke a spirit drained.
“My complaints are as nothing compared with your suffering,” said Kate.
“Would you care for some hot spiced wine, Katherine?” Jocasta offered her a bowl. Kate had never seen her so ill at ease, so uncertain what to do.
Cupping her hands round the bowl, Kate held it to her face and inhaled the steam, appreciating the warmth while she observed the two women, considering how best to proceed. Jocasta, sitting beside Margery, took one of her guest’s hands in hers and rubbed it to bring up the blood. Neither woman was in any mood for idle chatter.
“I need to know whether there is anything you have not told me, Margery,” Kate said. “If Sir Elric is to argue your case with the king’s man, he must understand what happened, and in what order.”
“By the king’s man you mean Sir Peter Angle,” Margery said with heat.
“The king’s man who is lodging with your cousin, William Frost,” said Jocasta with a knowing look.
They knew much. “You may see that as a compromising position,” said Kate, “but it might benefit our cause. I have arranged for a spy in William’s household, with my cousin’s permission.”
“In truth?” Jocasta nodded. “Then it is well done, Katherine.” She rose from her seat. “I will bring more wine, and some bread and cheese?”
“I am not hungry,” said Margery.
Kate had a long walk ahead of her, to her mother’s to fetch one of the beguines to accompany her, then on to the castle. “I would be grateful,” she said.
As Jocasta saw to it, Margery surprised Kate by asking after Marie, Phillip, and Petra.
Kate filled the silence with tidbits about the children until the servants had set up the food and wine, and Dame Jocasta had settled, this time choosing a chair that allowed her to see Margery’s face.
“You would be wise to have Lille and Ghent with you at all times,” Margery warned.
“This morning I felt Jennet needed them more.”
Slipping off the hat, Margery ran her hands through her hair. Someone had artfully cut a few locks to fall over her forehead, giving the effect of a lad when she wore the hat. But the color had not been so well applied, coming off on Margery’s hands. Lifting her darkened palms she said, “How I wish I might wash this out.”