warm smile were not enough to cheer her. But she found it comforting to think of Harold overseeing the repairs and told him so. God had not completely abandoned her.
They rode most of the way side by side, in companionable silence.
Despite everything, it was a happy homecoming for Lucie. The garden rang with the children’s joyful shrieks when they saw her and their Great-aunt Phillippa. Jasper declared he had missed her.
While Lucie told a wide-eyed Jasper of the troubles of the past few days, Harold crossed the street to Roger Moreton’s house to discuss his return to Freythorpe Hadden. Roger came hurrying back with Harold in tow, not content with loaning Harold, but offering to hire a stonemason to rebuild the gatehouse – at Roger’s expense.
‘I know an excellent mason. A stone gatehouse is what you need. Let it be my gift to you and Owen.’
Lucie refused. She could not possibly accept such a gift. But she would be glad of his company when she gave her report to the sheriff on the morrow.
After Roger had departed, Phillippa tsked and flicked at invisible dust on the table until Lucie asked what ailed her.
‘I thought you bold to ride so companionably with the steward Harold. But now I see that is nothing to how you behave with his master.’
Lucie sent Jasper off to the shop to make up an unguent for Harold, who had a painful blister on his leg, a burn that had been irritated by the ride. When the young man was out the door, Lucie turned to her aunt. ‘To say such things in front of Jasper. How could you?’
‘He is old enough to hear such things.’
‘What? Untruths? Your imaginings? Did you think to ask me first how I felt about either man?’
‘It is plain how you feel. A neighbour does not offer such gifts.’
‘When Roger Moreton’s wife was ill, Tildy and I took turns sitting with her. I saw how bad it was and sent for Magda. Roger was beside himself, he could not think what to do. He remembers, Aunt.’ Lucie realised she was too angry, almost spitting out her words, and turned away, trying to calm herself. ‘You have opened up a wound between Jasper and me that has just been healed with great effort,’ she said softly. ‘I cannot think why you would wish to do such a thing.’
Phillippa did not reply at once. Lucie heard her dust off the bench, fuss with her skirt, sit down. ‘Kate neglects this room. The air is stale, the benches dusty and beneath – look at the cobwebs.’
Lucie turned to her aunt, but already the faraway look was back. It seemed futile to argue with her, but sweet heaven, how much more could she endure? People were kind to Lucie in her husband’s absence and she was to turn them away? She escaped to the shop. Jasper was just wrapping up the unguent.
‘Are you too tired to take a message to Magda Digby?’ Lucie asked. The Riverwoman lived on a small tidal island upriver from St Mary’s Abbey. Jasper assured her he was never too tired to visit Magda, even if the tide were in and he had to row. ‘Tell her of the attack and Daimon’s wounds. Ask her if she would journey to him. If so, I shall come to her tomorrow to tell her what I have done for him.’ Jasper took up the unguent for Harold and walked happily out into the busy street.
Eight
INTO THE WOOD
O n a morning of mists and the damp smell of earth, Owen set out for the cathedral. Rokelyn had sent a message recommending Ranulf de Hutton as the mason to complete Sir Robert’s tomb. Owen wished to speak with him before he agreed.
The masons’ lodge sat at the north end of the cathedral, just beyond the area plotted out for the cloisters and St Mary’s college. Ranulf was not there, just two journeymen preparing stones for the cloister. Their chatter ceased as Owen approached. They nodded in greeting, but remained quiet and unsmiling, clearly uncomfortable with his presence.
‘Master Hutton you will find in the nave,’ one said to his question, ‘repairing an ornament near Bishop Gower’s
They rode most of the way side by side, in companionable silence.
Despite everything, it was a happy homecoming for Lucie. The garden rang with the children’s joyful shrieks when they saw her and their Great-aunt Phillippa. Jasper declared he had missed her.
While Lucie told a wide-eyed Jasper of the troubles of the past few days, Harold crossed the street to Roger Moreton’s house to discuss his return to Freythorpe Hadden. Roger came hurrying back with Harold in tow, not content with loaning Harold, but offering to hire a stonemason to rebuild the gatehouse – at Roger’s expense.
‘I know an excellent mason. A stone gatehouse is what you need. Let it be my gift to you and Owen.’
Lucie refused. She could not possibly accept such a gift. But she would be glad of his company when she gave her report to the sheriff on the morrow.
After Roger had departed, Phillippa tsked and flicked at invisible dust on the table until Lucie asked what ailed her.
‘I thought you bold to ride so companionably with the steward Harold. But now I see that is nothing to how you behave with his master.’
Lucie sent Jasper off to the shop to make up an unguent for Harold, who had a painful blister on his leg, a burn that had been irritated by the ride. When the young man was out the door, Lucie turned to her aunt. ‘To say such things in front of Jasper. How could you?’
‘He is old enough to hear such things.’
‘What? Untruths? Your imaginings? Did you think to ask me first how I felt about either man?’
‘It is plain how you feel. A neighbour does not offer such gifts.’
‘When Roger Moreton’s wife was ill, Tildy and I took turns sitting with her. I saw how bad it was and sent for Magda. Roger was beside himself, he could not think what to do. He remembers, Aunt.’ Lucie realised she was too angry, almost spitting out her words, and turned away, trying to calm herself. ‘You have opened up a wound between Jasper and me that has just been healed with great effort,’ she said softly. ‘I cannot think why you would wish to do such a thing.’
Phillippa did not reply at once. Lucie heard her dust off the bench, fuss with her skirt, sit down. ‘Kate neglects this room. The air is stale, the benches dusty and beneath – look at the cobwebs.’
Lucie turned to her aunt, but already the faraway look was back. It seemed futile to argue with her, but sweet heaven, how much more could she endure? People were kind to Lucie in her husband’s absence and she was to turn them away? She escaped to the shop. Jasper was just wrapping up the unguent.
‘Are you too tired to take a message to Magda Digby?’ Lucie asked. The Riverwoman lived on a small tidal island upriver from St Mary’s Abbey. Jasper assured her he was never too tired to visit Magda, even if the tide were in and he had to row. ‘Tell her of the attack and Daimon’s wounds. Ask her if she would journey to him. If so, I shall come to her tomorrow to tell her what I have done for him.’ Jasper took up the unguent for Harold and walked happily out into the busy street.
Eight
INTO THE WOOD
O n a morning of mists and the damp smell of earth, Owen set out for the cathedral. Rokelyn had sent a message recommending Ranulf de Hutton as the mason to complete Sir Robert’s tomb. Owen wished to speak with him before he agreed.
The masons’ lodge sat at the north end of the cathedral, just beyond the area plotted out for the cloisters and St Mary’s college. Ranulf was not there, just two journeymen preparing stones for the cloister. Their chatter ceased as Owen approached. They nodded in greeting, but remained quiet and unsmiling, clearly uncomfortable with his presence.
‘Master Hutton you will find in the nave,’ one said to his question, ‘repairing an ornament near Bishop Gower’s
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