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.
“Yes, it is a horror to consider what gentle Dina suffered in the night,” Matilda whispered. “A child already so haunted, so frightened. May God watch over her.” The sister crossed herself.
“God expects us to watch over her, Magistra Matilda. Her life is in our hands.”
“I understand, Dame Katherine. You may rest easy.”
No one might rest easy. Especially now, as the city prepared for war. But Kate simply thanked the sister, letting Brigida be the one to stress to Matilda that either she or Sister Clara, or Dame Eleanor, should be summoned the moment Dina seemed ready and able to speak. “Send for one of us at once.”
Magistra Matilda bristled. “Do you not trust us to care for Sister Dina?”
Brigida asked her forgiveness; she was merely worried for her dear friend. “You know how timid she is, how she jumps at loud noises or sudden movements. I did not mean to imply a lack of confidence or trust, just that she may need to see a more familiar face. We are most grateful for your kindness.”
On that warmer note, the four of them withdrew. As they stepped out of the maison dieu, Kate was glad to see how peacefully Lille and Ghent sat with the sister who had watched them. She handed over the hounds’ leads, and all six crossed Castlegate together, separating at the hedgerow gate. Dame Eleanor, who had been quiet all the while, even now deferred to Brigida, who thanked Kate and Berend for taking Dina to safety. Eleanor merely nodded to them, then continued on through the gate.
“I do not understand your mother,” Berend said as they watched them depart.
“You are not the first to say that, nor will you be the last. Perhaps she is irked that we found Dina.” They turned toward the kitchen. “Before we are set upon with questions, I would have your thoughts, Berend. What do you think happened?”
“Are you asking whether this might be the work of soldiers?” He shook his head at her nod. “Knowing so little, I cannot say.”
No longer able to hold back the emotion she had choked down, Kate sank onto the bench beneath the kitchen eaves, letting the tears come. Lille and Ghent settled at her feet.
Berend crouched between them. “You think of Maud?” Kate’s dearest childhood friend, who had been raped and brutally murdered.
“And the shattering of the sisters’ beautiful, trusting calm. I took comfort in the peace of their presence. I saw another way to live.” Without fear, without constant vigilance. “But it was an illusion.” She blotted her eyes with her sleeve as Marie’s voice rose inside. “The girls must not see me this way. Go in. And take Lille and Ghent. I will compose myself and join you in a moment.”
“Of course.” Berend straightened with a grunt. “God help me, I grow too old for such a posture, eh?”
She leaned her head back against the wall and mirrored his gentle smile, watching him as he rubbed his own eyes with his three-fingered hand, then motioned to the hounds to follow him. Strong, steadfast Berend. He never failed her. He opened the door now, laughing at something Marie said in her most imperious tone, throwing it back with a silly comment rewarded by both girls dissolving in laughter.
Bless him, with a simple gesture he eased her back into her own household. All were well, happy, and mostly at peace. Mostly. Marie, a delicately beautiful child, had arrived in York grieving her parents and feeling betrayed by all her kin. In the course of a year and a half she had begun to thaw, but her temper still flared at perceived slights or disappointments. At times she reminded Kate of her own mother.
Hunger and thirst roused Kate. She ordered her thoughts, then rose and followed Berend inside.
All the household was gathered in the kitchen – Jennet, Matt, Marie, Petra, Berend, Lille and Ghent. Though it was just past dawn, the tension of the past hours had brought them all fully awake. The bread Berend had left to rise during the night had been baked. Marie’s work. Kate thanked her, ruffling her curly hair. The child pretended irritation.
“Matt helped. He feared I would burn myself.” Marie sighed and rolled her eyes. Forced to grow up too quickly in her mother’s house in Calais, cooking for the household, Marie took pride in helping Berend.
“Have you saved me some bread?” Kate asked, sliding onto the bench beside Berend.
Marie handed her a warm loaf. Berend poured her a bowl of ale, then returned to his own pieces of bread, slathering them with butter and cheese and eating them quickly, washing them down with good ale. Pulling her small loaf apart, Kate asked him to tell the others what they had discovered. Matt and Jennet both sat up, eager to hear it.
When Berend had told all he knew, Jennet added what she had learned about the lock on the kitchen. “And then Sister Clara shepherded them all to the hall to pray.” Jennet shook her head. “There is a time for prayer and a time for action.”
“I could not agree more,” said Kate. “Anything else?”
“I went to Griffin’s lodgings, told him he was needed. His landlady was not cordial about the early hour.” Jennet helped herself to more ale.
“So there it is.” Kate nodded to Berend, Matt, and Jennet. “I want to hear your thoughts.”
“Sister Dina rarely leaves the house,” said Matt. “I cannot think she has drawn attention to herself. So this was not an attack aimed at her.”
“But people are doubtless gossiping about Dame Eleanor’s beguines,” said Jennet. “They will be known to be young women, and with all the soldiers crowding the city …”
“Sister Dina has difficulty understanding us. Or being understood. Though I am beginning to catch much of what she says, it is a struggle,” said Matt. “Might she have misunderstood someone looking for help?”
“In her bedchamber in a private garden before dawn?” Jennet snorted.
Matt blushed. Marie giggled.
“Berend says many of the men are left to find their own beds. He’s warned us not to go out after dark unattended,” said Petra. “Maybe Matt is right.”
“My niece the peace weaver,” Kate whispered.
But she did wonder. It was true that Dina’s speech sounded to all of them like a mixture of languages, but Brigida, Clara, and Eleanor were able to converse with her. Her efforts to learn to speak to the people of York were improving, and now it seemed more a matter of being so timid that Dina chose to go nowhere, see no one, without having one of the others with her. Fortunately she was a skilled sempster, so as her reputation spread, the work came to her.
“Why did Dina not cry out?” Kate wondered aloud. “How is it that she fled rather than calling out for help? Why did Nan not tell the others about her mother? Is caring for the ill not within their calling? Why did my mother assign that room to Dina? I have so many questions.”
She sighed as everyone turned toward her. “I know that I swore before all of you that I would not be swept up in my mother’s Martha House scheme. But I have come to have great affection for all three sisters, and none of them, especially Sister Dina, should suffer for my mother’s poor judgment.”
“I will see what I might learn about Agnes and her maidservant, and whether Nan is caring for an ailing mother. If not, what she’s doing,” said Jennet.
Kate nodded. “I need to see Griselde and Clement at the guesthouse today. I will ask what they know of Agnes and her boarders, and what her late husband did on his long journeys. They keep their ears open about such things.”
“Will Sister Brigida take us to Master Frost’s house for our lesson today?” Marie asked. Brigida, who had been schooled for a time in a convent in Paris, was tutoring Hazel Frost, the daughter of Kate’s cousin William, as well as Petra and Marie. They assembled at the Frost house because Hazel was often too unwell to move about in the city. Marie, born in Calais, spoke French, but not the elegant Parisian French that Brigida was teaching the others, so she had insisted on being included.