![[Roger the Chapman 02] - The Plymouth Cloak](https://fs.ageofbook.com/477967/thumbs/152x264/roger-the-chapman-02-the-plymouth-cloak.jpg)
noisy exit. I realized that although it was probably less than an hour since breakfast, my walk had made me hungry again, so I made my way to the kitchen in the hope of finding something more to eat.
The courtyard was bustling now, with people coming and going about their daily work, but the kitchen was temporarily deserted by everyone except Janet Overy, who was standing at a long table at the far end of the room, checking the day's produce which had evidently been brought by one of the men from the walled garden at the back of the house. She turned when she heard me come in and smiled.
'Are you hungry?' she asked, wiping her hands on a cloth and advancing towards me.
'How did you guess?' I asked sheepishly. 'I must have eaten enough for two at breakfast.'
She laughed. 'Get away with you! A great lad like you needs constant sustenance. I know. I was married to one myself.' She bade me sit down, producing bread and cheese and a plate of almond milk doucettes, which she told me she had baked freshly that morning. Then she filled a mazer with ale, drawn from a cask in the comer, and sat down to keep me company at the table. She looked hot and flushed from the warmth of the kitchen, and I guessed she was glad to rest for a moment. 'You remind me somewhat of my husband,' she added.
'Have you been widowed long?' I asked through a mouthful of bread and cheese.
Sorrow veiled her face. 'Eight or nine years. Maybe more.
Time passes so swiftly, it's not always easy to keep track of its flight. Hugh was a fisherman - he owned his own boat.
He and two of his men were drowned at sea a week before our son was born.'
I paused in the act of raising the mazer to my lips and stretched out a hand to lay it over hers. 'I'm sorry. But the boy must be a great comfort to you.'
I knew I had said the wrong thing by the look on her face.
It was like the shadow of death as it fans from chin to brow, flattening the features and emptying them of all animation.
'I lost him,' she said, 'when he was five years old. One of the loveliest children you ever saw, as fair-haired and blue-eyed as you are. But that's enough of me and my affairs.' She spoke with a fierce, determined cheerfulness, daring me to pursue the subject. 'Tell me about yourself. What are you doing with Master Underdown? You're too young to have been with him in the old days.'
I had foreseen the question and had been wondering just how much of the truth I could impart if she asked it. There was no doubt that Alwyn the steward had been the recipient, to some extent, of Philip's confidence, and I was unsure how far he could be trusted to say nothing at all to Mistress Overy, his nearest in rank and importance among the servants.
Besides, if Philip and I had been followed from Plymouth, extra vigilance from additional pairs of eyes could do us no harm and might even forestall any danger. Moreover, the responsibility for my companion's safety was beginning to weigh heavily on my shoulders. The two days which the Duke had imposed on me had stretched now to five, with more yet to come. I needed to share my burden with someone, and Mistress Overy, although of course younger, reminded me very much of my mother. She had the same air of serenity, of having all life's answers, that my mother had possessed; the ability to lure secrets out of you, even when you have determined to say nothing, I knew I should probably confide in no one, but the desire to talk was overwhelming.
I looked over my shoulder to make sure that we were still alone, gave a nervous glance a! the open door and window, lowered my voice almost to a whisper and plunged into my story.
CHAPTER 9
When I had finished speaking, Janet Overy rose and refilled my mazer, then resumed her place at the table, folding her hands in front of her.
'A remarkable story,' she said, 'with another behind it that you haven't told me, or why would so important a personage as the King's own brother have picked on you for such a mission? Rest
The courtyard was bustling now, with people coming and going about their daily work, but the kitchen was temporarily deserted by everyone except Janet Overy, who was standing at a long table at the far end of the room, checking the day's produce which had evidently been brought by one of the men from the walled garden at the back of the house. She turned when she heard me come in and smiled.
'Are you hungry?' she asked, wiping her hands on a cloth and advancing towards me.
'How did you guess?' I asked sheepishly. 'I must have eaten enough for two at breakfast.'
She laughed. 'Get away with you! A great lad like you needs constant sustenance. I know. I was married to one myself.' She bade me sit down, producing bread and cheese and a plate of almond milk doucettes, which she told me she had baked freshly that morning. Then she filled a mazer with ale, drawn from a cask in the comer, and sat down to keep me company at the table. She looked hot and flushed from the warmth of the kitchen, and I guessed she was glad to rest for a moment. 'You remind me somewhat of my husband,' she added.
'Have you been widowed long?' I asked through a mouthful of bread and cheese.
Sorrow veiled her face. 'Eight or nine years. Maybe more.
Time passes so swiftly, it's not always easy to keep track of its flight. Hugh was a fisherman - he owned his own boat.
He and two of his men were drowned at sea a week before our son was born.'
I paused in the act of raising the mazer to my lips and stretched out a hand to lay it over hers. 'I'm sorry. But the boy must be a great comfort to you.'
I knew I had said the wrong thing by the look on her face.
It was like the shadow of death as it fans from chin to brow, flattening the features and emptying them of all animation.
'I lost him,' she said, 'when he was five years old. One of the loveliest children you ever saw, as fair-haired and blue-eyed as you are. But that's enough of me and my affairs.' She spoke with a fierce, determined cheerfulness, daring me to pursue the subject. 'Tell me about yourself. What are you doing with Master Underdown? You're too young to have been with him in the old days.'
I had foreseen the question and had been wondering just how much of the truth I could impart if she asked it. There was no doubt that Alwyn the steward had been the recipient, to some extent, of Philip's confidence, and I was unsure how far he could be trusted to say nothing at all to Mistress Overy, his nearest in rank and importance among the servants.
Besides, if Philip and I had been followed from Plymouth, extra vigilance from additional pairs of eyes could do us no harm and might even forestall any danger. Moreover, the responsibility for my companion's safety was beginning to weigh heavily on my shoulders. The two days which the Duke had imposed on me had stretched now to five, with more yet to come. I needed to share my burden with someone, and Mistress Overy, although of course younger, reminded me very much of my mother. She had the same air of serenity, of having all life's answers, that my mother had possessed; the ability to lure secrets out of you, even when you have determined to say nothing, I knew I should probably confide in no one, but the desire to talk was overwhelming.
I looked over my shoulder to make sure that we were still alone, gave a nervous glance a! the open door and window, lowered my voice almost to a whisper and plunged into my story.
CHAPTER 9
When I had finished speaking, Janet Overy rose and refilled my mazer, then resumed her place at the table, folding her hands in front of her.
'A remarkable story,' she said, 'with another behind it that you haven't told me, or why would so important a personage as the King's own brother have picked on you for such a mission? Rest
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