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.
“Yet you continued to lie to me.”
“I was trapped in Margery’s secret. It was not mine to share. I’ve told you–”
“Do not toy with me, Katherine.” He rose with an abruptness that almost knocked her over, strode to the door. In a moment, she was alone.
She sat down on the floor, stunned. How had it gone so wrong? Her face grew hot. Damn him, insufferable man. Unbending. His heart is ice. He–
Footsteps on the landing. He was still there, pacing back and forth outside the door.
All might not be lost. Pray God he just needed coaxing. Rising, she fortified herself with brandywine, brushed herself off, and opened the door. “I fear my boldness offended you. But we have so little time.”
Elric halted before her, shaking his head as if at a loss to understand. “Katherine–”
“I want to be with you, Elric.”
“What of Berend?”
“He is my friend, my brother, not my lover.”
Crossing his arms, Elric bowed his head, paced away, returned, his expression still cautious, questioning. “I cannot promise–”
She put a finger to his lips. “I don’t ask for promises. Only a night with you.”
She’d held her breath, and, as the minutes passed, felt a bitter defeat. But then …
“Are you armed?” A teasing smile.
She guided his hands to the front of her skirt. “You are free to examine me.”
He moved his hands out to cup her hips and methodically worked back to center, watching her face, witnessing what that did to her.
“Hah!” He drew out her dagger and tossed it into the room behind her, then pulled her into his arms, kissing her.
She was not shy in her response.
“Do you mean it?” he whispered. “That you want to be with me?”
“Can you doubt it? Must I take it into my own hands to drag you to the bed?”
“No need.” He lifted her up and carried her back into the room, kicking the door shut behind him, tossing her onto the bed.
She pulled him down to her. When they came up for air she rolled away, so that she could unbutton the bodice of her gown.
Gently brushing her hands aside, Elric took over. When it was her turn, she knelt on the bed, dodging his exploring hands to undress him. He was everything she had imagined he might be when she had watched him demonstrating his martial prowess at Sheriff Hutton on that Christmas Day long ago.
He moaned as he pulled her to him and rolled so that she was atop him.
They slept little that night. Just before daybreak, Elric drew her into his arms and asked whether she would consider marriage.
“To you?” She kissed his belly, his chest, then his mouth. “I might.”
“But …?”
“I do not trust myself to make a wise decision after such a night.”
His laugh was low in his throat.
She smiled now at the memory of that last lovemaking before parting.
“Katherine?” William was watching her with a bemused expression. “I believe you have answered my question.”
Feeling herself blush, she smiled at him. A knight and a woman in trade – with such a guesthouse as hers – she did not think it a likely match. But if it stopped William’s matchmaking …
Her cousin looked well pleased.
Her presence at Cecily’s hanging had been requested, as an “honor,” but Kate had excused herself. The truth was, Cecily haunted her. You, of all people, you should stand with me…. I earned the money … I earned it. And just when I was free at last, Merek intended to ruin me. Were they so different? Her anger stemmed from the opposite of Cecily’s, Simon’s extravagance – he had denied her nothing, but had she not plotted and schemed, and found part of the solution in a morally questionable guesthouse?
You never considered murder, Geoff said.
No? I’m not sure of that. But he was already dead.
Her dreams were as wild as Petra’s, though not the Sight, clearly her heart questioning, questioning everything. How childish she had been with Berend, seeing him as her anchor, her support, believing him when he had promised that she could depend on him. And now Elric – was she making the same mistake, seeing in him what she had believed she had with Berend, only more? Was he Simon Neville all over again?
You are robbing yourself of happiness, Geoff warned.
Am I? Or am I taking responsibility? The children depend on me. I must be clearheaded for them. They deserve all my love.
They sat in the hall of the Martha House, the altar cloth on their laps, Eleanor working a chalice in gold thread, Kate following Sister Dina’s faint sketch of the Virgin’s gown in shades of blue. Wind howled without, the fire crackled within, warming the two embroiderers and the hounds sleeping by the hearth. Such peace.
A cramp in her fingers forced Kate to pause and relax her hand.
“You hold the needle too tight, that has ever been your problem,” Eleanor murmured without glancing up. She hummed softly as she stitched.
“I know,” said Kate, smiling at her mother. “I admire you. You have created a sanctuary here, something precious.”
Now Eleanor looked up. “Bless you, daughter.” Her eyes glistened. “You are the one being fêted by the city, catching a murderer.”
“But I have no peace. You lost your sons, your husbands. You suffered such betrayal. Yet you have found peace in this house.”
“I am healing, yes.”
“How? How might I do the same? And please do not say I should ask for guidance.”
Eleanor laughed. “I am the last one to advise you to seek someone else’s advice on how to move forward. No one knowing me in the past would have advised me to found a house of poor sisters. You yourself thought I had gone quite mad.”
“I confess it seemed an unlikely match.”
Eleanor reached over to squeeze Kate’s hand. “You must be patient with yourself. You had a happy home, and now there is a yawning emptiness where Berend steadied it, always there, dependable, safe. And the girls lost him as well as their dear friend Hazel. It is a difficult time. You feel helpless, and that makes you angry.”
Did it? Was it that she felt helpless? “One night I dreamt I was hunting Lady Margery. I meant to kill her.”
“Perhaps you blame her for Berend’s absence? I do. Though it was not she who summoned him in the beginning, her presence now endangers him.”
“Her story was so riddled with coincidences,” said Kate, “I cannot trust it. The abbot denies having seen Sir Thomas. I thought, there it is, her lie. But William believes it is the abbot who lied, that he meant to ingratiate himself with King Henry.”
“Do you believe him?”
“Would such a small thing matter enough for him to lie about it? That he had seen Sir Thomas?” Kate did not see it. “Even more, Margery said the abbot tried to stop the violence, and that he prayed for the victims as well as for the souls of the townspeople who had so brutally taken the lives of their countrymen. She painted a man with no thought to pandering to the king.”
“Do you doubt Sir Thomas’s innocence?” Eleanor asked.
“I wonder. When Henry turned on him, and on Richard, was he able to remain neutral? Yet if I question that, everything is in question. It’s all ashes. Even Berend. He told me what he wanted me to believe.”
“And it seems a betrayal to you.”
“Perhaps I betrayed myself, depending on him. I knew better.”
Eleanor pressed Kate’s hand. “You are strong, Katherine. It is you who caught Cecily Wheeldon. You who devised the scheme to free Berend and Lady Kirkby. You who earned Sir Elric’s respect, and his love. You have a rich life. You will find your way, and your purpose.”