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.
“Ulrich’s murderer was hired by young Baron Clifford’s guardian, William Roos.”
“Roos?” A gasp, and then a long silence as Eleanor took it in, her eyes moving back and forth as she made connections. “Oh, yes, I can see Elizabeth Roos behind all this, proud, overweening woman. A curse on her and all her family!”
“When did Griffin enter Ulrich’s service?” Kate asked, drawing her mother back to the point.
“What?” Eleanor blinked at Kate, as if she’d forgotten her presence. “Oh, yes, I’d …” A sigh. “In Strasbourg. We had lost a man on our journey. Oh, dear heaven, Griffin showed up as if summoned. Ulrich asked round about him. He seemed satisfied by what he heard. Griffin.” Eleanor crossed herself. “God forgive me, I sent Werner to his death. I sent him with Griffin in search of Hans’s murderer. I told them to disappear, then watch. I sent him to his death. But I never dreamed … He seemed so kind.”
Kate’s uncle’s meetings with Griffin, always without Werner. She did not know if she would ever forgive him. “Why did they not just take Ulrich’s life, his wealth, and let you be?”
Eleanor shifted uneasily, avoiding Kate’s eyes. “They could not find his gold. I am certain they questioned Hans, then Werner, before killing them. But neither of them knew anything about it.”
Kate forced herself to sound surprised in asking, “His gold?”
“The French paid him well for spying. Griffin did not find it. Not even the guardians of the gold know where it is.”
Enough of this. Kate could not keep up the pretense. “By guardians you mean the beguines?” She drew the pouch from her skirt, took her mother’s hand, crossed her palm with gold.
Eleanor stared down at it. “You toyed with me. How did you know?”
Kate told her Richard Clifford’s version of the story. And Sir Alan’s.
“Baron Roos and his sister Elizabeth.” Eleanor spat the words, though her mouth trembled and her eyes mirrored Kate’s own pain. “I am not at all surprised that they were behind this. Black hearts, the pair of them, I have always said so. But why ask me, when you knew all this?”
“I am angry. Angry that you did not tell me what had happened when you arrived. We might have prevented much of this had we worked together. You endangered all of us with your silence.”
“Oh.” Eleanor looked down at her hands. “I– I was so ashamed,” she whispered, then closed her eyes, going silent.
Kate helped herself to a gulp of brandywine and waited. The skin of her mother’s face sagged, her hands were spotted with age, the joints of her forefinger and thumb swollen. Kate fought the urge to apologize for her harsh words.
Eleanor reached up to fuss with her veil, as if aware of Kate’s close study. “How did you guess where the gold was?”
“When I heard of it, I remembered the man who approached Marie. And you did little to quiet the fuss about a golden idol. You go on about everything – but not that. You are clever, Mother. The sisters saw only the gold thread and so dismissed it.”
An enigmatic smile. “There is even more gold. Much more. Before he was murdered, Ulrich sent it on to my elderly uncle in Hull. A peace offering to me. He told me to hasten home if anything should happen to him. Apparently while busy eliminating his fellow retainers in Strasbourg, Griffin missed Ulrich’s final sleight of hand. I’ve recently had word through your cousin William that his great-uncle awaits my visit.”
“Were all Ulrich’s retainers murdered in Strasbourg?”
Eleanor crossed herself. “All who had accompanied him to England. Some died before Ulrich. Why do you think Hans and Werner agreed to escort me? They had been in the party. They were frightened for their lives. Griffin suggested to them that they would be safe with me.”
“And you agreed, knowing the part they played in Ulrich’s betrayal?”
“They were servants, Katherine, not spies. Good men.” Eleanor’s breath caught. Softly, she said, “Perhaps Ulrich as well. His first wife was French, as was his mother. He and his wife fostered two Scots boys orphaned in an English raid.”
“You knew all this?”
“Only later, when he confessed. He said that by the time he grew to care for David, me, all our family, he could not – He had gone too far.” A sob. Eleanor fumbled for the glass. “I loved them both – David, Ulrich. I loved them both.”
Kate took the glass from her mother and poured her a generous amount, which Eleanor dispatched with alarming speed.
Kate’s own heart ached with doubt. How could anyone judge who was at fault, who was in the right? There were no winners in a feud. How could there be?
“What will become of me?” Eleanor moaned. “When people hear … And what of the Cliffords? Surely the archbishop will demand justice?”
Kate was relieved by the practical questions, ones she could answer. “His Grace is a reasonable man. He convinced me that it is in my best interest, and yours, that we allow the healing to begin. We have revised the story to make Griffin a solitary predator. Sir Elric and Dean Richard have agreed to it. Griffin preyed on you, a wealthy widow, doing his best to damage your reputation so that you would be dependent on him, and then he would slowly relieve you of your wealth. Your faithful servants saw through his scheme and fought to defend you, but Griffin was more than a match for them. The dean and the archbishop have seen to his punishment.”
Her mother’s eyes shone with tears. “I – Bless you. Bless you all. But how will people hear of this?”
“I will see to that.” Eleanor winced as if Kate had slapped her. Her tone had been sharper than she had intended. “I speak of healing, but there is still the gold. If you are determined to keep it–”
“Not for selfish ends. I want to use the blood money to help others.”
“The Martha House.”
Eleanor nodded. “If any Clifford – or Roos – believes they deserve that money, that it should feed their greed, I will fight them.”
“We will outwit them.”
“We? You and I, Daughter?” Eleanor looked wary. “How?”
Kate did not feel inclined to tell her mother of her deal with Elric. “We will speak another time. Do nothing until we speak, eh? Will you promise me that?” Kate held her mother’s gaze.
“I do.” A slight flicker, there and gone again.
Kate placed the pouch of gold in her mother’s hands. “Hide this well.” Rising, she thanked Eleanor for finally telling her all she wished to know.
As Kate was closing the door, her mother whispered, “‘The fall is so deep, she is so rightly fallen, that the soul cannot fill herself from such an abyss.’” Kate must have made a sound. Eleanor looked up at her. “Marguerite Porete. She knew the pain of losing one’s way.”
Kate shook her head. “Fallen? No. You tripped, Mother, and already you are back on your feet.”
18
Peace?
Throughout the following week, Kate called on the clients of her guesthouse. Those who had appointments that week saw her there, others received invitations to dine, after which a stroll in Thomas Holme’s gardens provided the necessary privacy for a confidential discussion. Each was told the sad tale of her mother’s betrayal by her late husband’s trusted retainer. When they balked, as some astute observers did, Kate reminded them of the delicacy of their business relationship. All went away agreeing to spread the tale. Indeed, by week’s end, Jennet reported hearing it throughout the city.
Kate’s cousin William Frost was by far the most difficult one to convince. “Isabella will never believe it.”