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.
“I would not go trusting him just yet.”
Perhaps he would not work out. A cook is what they needed. Marie was too young to carry the burden of such duty, Jennet was an indifferent cook, and Griselde had enough to do at the guesthouse and caring for Clement.
Kate thanked Matt and saw him off, then gave Cuddy instructions for the morning, which would entail ensuring that Marie and Petra, once awake, made use of their day off by making a stew. The sharp blue eyes burned beneath the fair curls that kept falling into his eyes. He did not like the prospect of watching the girls. But Jennet had matters to put into motion before Kate’s midday meeting with Leif Holme.
Kate brushed the lad’s hair back and made a point of holding his gaze. “If my wards stray, I will hold you responsible. You do not want to cross me.”
“I will not, Mistress Clifford. But – young Marie seems difficult to guide.”
Kate relaxed. “She is. But I ask you only to give my instructions to the girls and then to watch the house, see that no strangers try to enter. Are you able to defend yourself?”
He fisted his hands and took a fighting stance. “I am.”
No weapon. Well, if he stayed, Matt could train him.
“Petra is a skilled fighter. If there is trouble, call her to assist you.” His eyes had gone wide. “Not that I anticipate such a need. I simply wanted you to know that you are not alone.”
Satisfied that Cuddy would make it through the day, Kate reached for the hounds’ leads. “I am off on errands,” she announced, nodding to Jennet.
Clouds hung low in the sky, threatening more snow. Already the streets were dotted with mounds of filthy, frozen slush that had carters cursing. The relief she had felt last night in the garden had been replaced by a dread of the reckoning ahead. The sheriffs would be more supportive if she found proof that Jon Horner had murdered Merek. And she would not rest until she knew who had poisoned Horner.
A flaxen-haired woman about Kate’s age answered her knock at the Ferriby house.
“The mistress is expecting you,” she said, eyeing the hounds with poorly concealed alarm.
“If you have some something I might dry them with, they will track in no more damp than I will,” Kate assured her. “As for discipline, they spent the entire mayor’s feast under the high table with nary a bark.”
The woman nodded and hurried away, returning quickly with two large rags – old table coverings, by the look of them. A household with such cloth to spare was rich indeed.
As Kate was rubbing down Ghent, Lille already standing by dry and fluffed, she was greeted by Gwenllian Ferriby with a babe in arms.
“Come through, I pray you.” Gwenllian told the maidservant to see to the damp rags.
The hall was bright from a wide window looking out to a large winter garden blanketed in snow. A long table held a jug of ale and two carved bowls. “Merchet ale,” said Gwenllian. “Shall I pour?”
After they were settled, Lille and Ghent curling up at Kate’s feet, Gwenllian apologized for not speaking out sooner. “I vowed I would never endanger my family as my parents had at times endangered us, so I turned a blind eye on– Well, Ross Wheeldon’s death, for instance, and how he did not want his wife to know he was consulting me.”
Watching the emotions playing across the woman’s face, Kate chose to say nothing, simply nodding as she sipped the ale.
Gwenllian turned her bowl round and round, the carvings of herons becoming a moving study of one heron taking flight. The room grew so quiet that the baby’s gurgling sigh and the stealthy approach of a curious cat drew Kate’s attention. The cat, a ginger female, stopped a short distance from Lille and Ghent and hissed. Kate quietly commanded the hounds to ignore her. With a sigh, Ghent lay his head back down on his forelegs. Lille turned her head away from the glaring feline.
“And though I am not in the habit of repeating rumors, I thought you should know that folk have wondered about a grand chapel in a church north of Easingwold being fitted out with grillwork by Coffey the blacksmith – for Ross Wheeldon. He’d been up measuring the space long before Ross’s death.”
Kate remembered her visit to Coffey’s workshop. “I saw a piece of the grillwork. Quite elaborate.”
“I would think nothing of it but for the fact that Ross was better. But why would Cecily risk so much? He left her wealthy. Could she not wait?”
“Why indeed? A troubling tale.”
They talked a while longer, sharing stories of their children, until one of the apprentices appeared at the garden door, begging a question. Kate thought it best to move on before the ale made her drowsy.
She rose, thanking Gwenllian for the information. “I will use it only to find out the truth. I will not share it. Nor will anyone know the source.”
“I trust you.” As Kate moved away, Gwenllian called out, “My girls are eager to see yours again soon.”
A welcome bonding.
Bess Merchet received Kate in a chamber that was clearly the elderly woman’s living quarters. Harry and Elric sat at a table making short work of a savory stew and hot bread. Hearty meal for first thing in the morning.
“We can talk while they eat,” said the taverner, smiling at the men’s appetites. “Here we’re safe from prying eyes and curious ears.”
Kate reported what she suspected of Cecily Wheeldon. “We need to find something to connect her to Jon Horner’s poisoning.”
“That would most likely be in her home,” said Elric. “No doubt you have a plan.”
He managed to make the comment sting.
“Rest easy, it does not involve you. Thomas Holme and Jennet are my conspirators. What is crucial is that we resolve this quickly, to appease the sheriffs. We need their support.”
They all turned at the sounds of an argument in the public room. Bess rose, opening the door just wide enough to hear Sir Peter loudly demanding to see Sir Elric.
Kate began to reach for his hand, stopping herself just in the nick of time. “Show him the list. He cannot scoff at such information. Swear to him that you saw Lady Kirkby neither arrive nor leave the city. You’ve sent your men home because Parr and Sawyer have been delivered, Lady Kirkby is nowhere to be found, and Berend provided the information the king wanted.”
Elric rose. “Go. Leave this to me.” With a tug on his jacket, he strode out to face the king’s man.
“Come.” Bess gestured to Kate. “I will take you out through the kitchen. Move quickly. I will put up a fuss so that you can go wherever you need to be.”
Kate said a silent prayer for Elric’s safety.
Coffey knelt to Lille and Ghent, praising them, clearly a play for time to think how he should respond.
“As a merchant yourself, you understand the need for customer trust, Mistress Clifford. I cannot be sharing such information without good cause.”
“What if I were to say folk are talking about this elegant tomb being prepared long before Ross Wheeldon gave anyone cause to believe he would soon be dead?” Kate knew it a risk, that it might make put him even more on the defensive, but she did not have time to dance about with him.
His large hands, every crease lined in soot, paused on Lille’s and Ghent’s backs. Ghent put his muzzle to Ben’s hand, wanting more. They had taken a liking to him. It spoke well of the man.
“I mean to make no trouble for you,” she said. “But it is important that I know if the grillwork is for Ross Wheeldon’s tomb, and who commissioned it.”
“You will not mention me?”
“Only to the sheriffs, if necessary. They can be trusted.”