nonetheless.
“I have arranged a meeting with the Brewood council today, Thomas.”
“Have you not arranged enough?” I muttered. Still he heard it, and scowled.
“And what is it that so berates your brow?”
“Blackladies.”
He made a sound in his throat at that, but said nothing. I turned to him. His face was red but neutral.
“Is she there? Did you machine that as well?”
“You are not too old for a strop, my lad. That is what is needed!”
“I have endured your arrangements and plots all my life, Father. Have I not earned the right to an honest sulk?”
“Not in my house!”
“Then I will leave your house!” Bounding to my feet, I glowered nose to nose with him. He glared at me for a long moment until a smile turned up his mustache, and he suddenly laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. Taken aback, I could do nothing to solace my anger.
“Oh, Thomas. Sit down!” He forced me back to the seat and then sat opposite, a smile still spread on his face. “Oft I speak, but rarely do you listen to me. I wish your mother had lived. It would have spared me years of your abuse.”
“Do you blame me for that too? It is not my fault she died in childbed, as much as you would have me believe it were so.”
He canted back, lips parted. “Do you truly think that, my son? When have I ever blamed you for that which was God’s will alone?”
“All my life, sir. ‘If only your mother were here, she would set you on the right path,’” I said mockingly. “‘I know not what to do with you, Thomas. Your mother would have known.’”
“By the blessed Virgin. And you interpreted that as my blaming you? You are a spoiled child, Thomas. And I know not what your—Hmm. I know not what I am to do with you.”
“You have done it. I am married.”
“And high time. At your age I was married, sired three living children, been knighted by the king, appointed sheriff and joint bailiff of Wolverhampton, besides being a trusted member of the king’s household. What have you accomplished?”
“Precious little, Father,” I grumbled, arms firmly crossed over my chest. “But I shall.”
“Of course you shall. You are a Giffard.”
“Then explain this to me. Last year you made all your conniving intrigues to gain the wardship of Sir John’s daughter and heir Dorothy. You obtained the license to marry her yourself. Why then did you marry her mother instead?”
He smiled, brushing up the tips of his mustache with a finger. The rings on his hand flashed in the fire glow. “The Montgomery lands are ours, Thomas, through my marriage and yours. The late Sir John—God rest his soul—made his daughters co-heirs. Naturally I saw an opportunity and moved on it with all haste. Dorothy was an obedient thing and would have married an old creature such as myself, as her mother no doubt ordered her to do. The Giffards are no country fools, after all. But the thing of it is…well…I became acquainted with her mother, the widow Elizabeth…and…”
I glared at my father and snatched the goblet of wine sitting beside me. I gulped a dose and licked my lips before the obvious thought finally occurred. “God’s teeth, Father! Did you fall in love? Is that why you married her?”
Father’s cheeks grew crimson spots and he shifted in his seat, adjusting the furred collar of his jerkin against the over-stuffed doublet. “Well…an alliance is an alliance.”
“Father! By God’s body! A man your age…”
“Keep a civil tongue. I am a man, and your mother died over twenty years ago.”
I toyed nervously with the cords of my shirt collar. “And you gave up all that land for love.”
“I gave up nothing. You have married it.”
“Yes. I see. It must have cost you a considerable sum to gain a new license to marry a ward of the king that quickly.” He did not answer, and after a while I raised my head. “Did you hear me, Father? I said it must have cost you dearly—”
“As I am a Gentleman Usher of the
“I have arranged a meeting with the Brewood council today, Thomas.”
“Have you not arranged enough?” I muttered. Still he heard it, and scowled.
“And what is it that so berates your brow?”
“Blackladies.”
He made a sound in his throat at that, but said nothing. I turned to him. His face was red but neutral.
“Is she there? Did you machine that as well?”
“You are not too old for a strop, my lad. That is what is needed!”
“I have endured your arrangements and plots all my life, Father. Have I not earned the right to an honest sulk?”
“Not in my house!”
“Then I will leave your house!” Bounding to my feet, I glowered nose to nose with him. He glared at me for a long moment until a smile turned up his mustache, and he suddenly laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. Taken aback, I could do nothing to solace my anger.
“Oh, Thomas. Sit down!” He forced me back to the seat and then sat opposite, a smile still spread on his face. “Oft I speak, but rarely do you listen to me. I wish your mother had lived. It would have spared me years of your abuse.”
“Do you blame me for that too? It is not my fault she died in childbed, as much as you would have me believe it were so.”
He canted back, lips parted. “Do you truly think that, my son? When have I ever blamed you for that which was God’s will alone?”
“All my life, sir. ‘If only your mother were here, she would set you on the right path,’” I said mockingly. “‘I know not what to do with you, Thomas. Your mother would have known.’”
“By the blessed Virgin. And you interpreted that as my blaming you? You are a spoiled child, Thomas. And I know not what your—Hmm. I know not what I am to do with you.”
“You have done it. I am married.”
“And high time. At your age I was married, sired three living children, been knighted by the king, appointed sheriff and joint bailiff of Wolverhampton, besides being a trusted member of the king’s household. What have you accomplished?”
“Precious little, Father,” I grumbled, arms firmly crossed over my chest. “But I shall.”
“Of course you shall. You are a Giffard.”
“Then explain this to me. Last year you made all your conniving intrigues to gain the wardship of Sir John’s daughter and heir Dorothy. You obtained the license to marry her yourself. Why then did you marry her mother instead?”
He smiled, brushing up the tips of his mustache with a finger. The rings on his hand flashed in the fire glow. “The Montgomery lands are ours, Thomas, through my marriage and yours. The late Sir John—God rest his soul—made his daughters co-heirs. Naturally I saw an opportunity and moved on it with all haste. Dorothy was an obedient thing and would have married an old creature such as myself, as her mother no doubt ordered her to do. The Giffards are no country fools, after all. But the thing of it is…well…I became acquainted with her mother, the widow Elizabeth…and…”
I glared at my father and snatched the goblet of wine sitting beside me. I gulped a dose and licked my lips before the obvious thought finally occurred. “God’s teeth, Father! Did you fall in love? Is that why you married her?”
Father’s cheeks grew crimson spots and he shifted in his seat, adjusting the furred collar of his jerkin against the over-stuffed doublet. “Well…an alliance is an alliance.”
“Father! By God’s body! A man your age…”
“Keep a civil tongue. I am a man, and your mother died over twenty years ago.”
I toyed nervously with the cords of my shirt collar. “And you gave up all that land for love.”
“I gave up nothing. You have married it.”
“Yes. I see. It must have cost you a considerable sum to gain a new license to marry a ward of the king that quickly.” He did not answer, and after a while I raised my head. “Did you hear me, Father? I said it must have cost you dearly—”
“As I am a Gentleman Usher of the
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