His eyes, Udo noticed, kept flitting towards the Charnel Chapel.
‘Henry – Master Saddler – I should like to talk to you about a matter of delicacy.’
‘You mean to ruin me?’
There was a depth of sadness in that question and in Henry’s eyes as he uttered those words which Udo felt compelled to ease. ‘Master Saddler, I have no intention of pursuing you. Any man can,’ he swallowed, ‘be unfortunate enough to have an accident. It was surely not your intention to see me hurled from my horse, so how could I prosecute you? That would be the act of a cruel man.’
Henry appeared stunned. He stopped dead, and turned to Udo with an expression of complete bafflement. ‘You mean you won’t sue me?’
‘I have not instructed a pleader, no, and I shall not, I think. No, I believe that you and I should become friends.’
‘I’m sure that’d be good,’ Henry stammered. ‘But, how can I thank you?’
Udo cleared his throat. ‘There is one way …’ he said hesitantly.
Without realising that she was the subject of a discussion between Udo and her father, Julia wrapped a neckerchief about her shoulders and pulled it tighter as she walked into the hall. Her mother was already there, sitting at her favourite place on a stool before the table, near to the fire. Against the cool of the afternoon, she was wearing her cote-hardie and a blanket wrapped about her, but Julia was sure that it was not the draughts but the family’s straits that chilled Mabilla’s blood.
‘Mother, may I fetch you some wine?’
Mabilla glanced up at her and gave a smile. ‘No, I am fine, dear. Just waiting for your father to return.’
‘Where has he gone?’
‘He has some business to attend to,’ Mabilla responded slowly.
‘It’s nothing to do with that odious man, then?’
‘You mean Master Udo?’
‘God, no, not him! That revolting old pensioner, Will. I hate him, Mother. He looks at me like a man staring at a piece of meat on the butcher’s slab. He has no compassion or sympathy for others. How could Father have grown to know him? And how can he let a fellow like that in the house?’
‘You shouldn’t speak of him like that,’ Mabilla countered, but without anger. ‘Your father knew Brother William a long time ago.’
‘I’ve never seen him before. It must have been a very long time ago that he left here.’
‘No matter. You should know your father better than to think that he would desert his friends just because they’ve been away for a long while.’
‘Will that German seek to ruin us, Mother?’ Julia said after a moment’s silence.
‘He may not, Daughter. Let us hope not.’
‘I had thought …’
‘Yes?’ Mabilla pressed.
‘The way that he stares at me in church … like a man besotted. And when he asked for the saddle, I felt he was considering making an offer for my hand,’ said Julia. She hadn’t broached the subject before with her mother, and now she could feel her cheeks flush as she spoke.
Mabilla eyed her. ‘You mean you’d consider taking his hand? A man so very much older than you?’
‘He would be experienced of things that I’d know nothing about, and he’d be able to look after me.’
‘For a while, perhaps. But he would be certain to die, wouldn’t he? And then what would you do?’
Julia lifted her chin. ‘I should have thought that he would be able to protect me after he had died. I would be able to count on at least a third part of his estate even if there was a child, according to the law, and he might settle more on me if he wished.’
‘I don’t think there is much likelihood of his wishing to settle anything on you now, dear,’ her mother said sadly. ‘I had no idea you guessed his intentions. I only realised myself when your father told me of the gift he brought for you and me. Then I wondered. We hardly know the man, after all, and there was no need for him to bring us cakes, but then it seemed soobvious.’ She sighed. ‘I shouldn’t think
‘Henry – Master Saddler – I should like to talk to you about a matter of delicacy.’
‘You mean to ruin me?’
There was a depth of sadness in that question and in Henry’s eyes as he uttered those words which Udo felt compelled to ease. ‘Master Saddler, I have no intention of pursuing you. Any man can,’ he swallowed, ‘be unfortunate enough to have an accident. It was surely not your intention to see me hurled from my horse, so how could I prosecute you? That would be the act of a cruel man.’
Henry appeared stunned. He stopped dead, and turned to Udo with an expression of complete bafflement. ‘You mean you won’t sue me?’
‘I have not instructed a pleader, no, and I shall not, I think. No, I believe that you and I should become friends.’
‘I’m sure that’d be good,’ Henry stammered. ‘But, how can I thank you?’
Udo cleared his throat. ‘There is one way …’ he said hesitantly.
Without realising that she was the subject of a discussion between Udo and her father, Julia wrapped a neckerchief about her shoulders and pulled it tighter as she walked into the hall. Her mother was already there, sitting at her favourite place on a stool before the table, near to the fire. Against the cool of the afternoon, she was wearing her cote-hardie and a blanket wrapped about her, but Julia was sure that it was not the draughts but the family’s straits that chilled Mabilla’s blood.
‘Mother, may I fetch you some wine?’
Mabilla glanced up at her and gave a smile. ‘No, I am fine, dear. Just waiting for your father to return.’
‘Where has he gone?’
‘He has some business to attend to,’ Mabilla responded slowly.
‘It’s nothing to do with that odious man, then?’
‘You mean Master Udo?’
‘God, no, not him! That revolting old pensioner, Will. I hate him, Mother. He looks at me like a man staring at a piece of meat on the butcher’s slab. He has no compassion or sympathy for others. How could Father have grown to know him? And how can he let a fellow like that in the house?’
‘You shouldn’t speak of him like that,’ Mabilla countered, but without anger. ‘Your father knew Brother William a long time ago.’
‘I’ve never seen him before. It must have been a very long time ago that he left here.’
‘No matter. You should know your father better than to think that he would desert his friends just because they’ve been away for a long while.’
‘Will that German seek to ruin us, Mother?’ Julia said after a moment’s silence.
‘He may not, Daughter. Let us hope not.’
‘I had thought …’
‘Yes?’ Mabilla pressed.
‘The way that he stares at me in church … like a man besotted. And when he asked for the saddle, I felt he was considering making an offer for my hand,’ said Julia. She hadn’t broached the subject before with her mother, and now she could feel her cheeks flush as she spoke.
Mabilla eyed her. ‘You mean you’d consider taking his hand? A man so very much older than you?’
‘He would be experienced of things that I’d know nothing about, and he’d be able to look after me.’
‘For a while, perhaps. But he would be certain to die, wouldn’t he? And then what would you do?’
Julia lifted her chin. ‘I should have thought that he would be able to protect me after he had died. I would be able to count on at least a third part of his estate even if there was a child, according to the law, and he might settle more on me if he wished.’
‘I don’t think there is much likelihood of his wishing to settle anything on you now, dear,’ her mother said sadly. ‘I had no idea you guessed his intentions. I only realised myself when your father told me of the gift he brought for you and me. Then I wondered. We hardly know the man, after all, and there was no need for him to bring us cakes, but then it seemed soobvious.’ She sighed. ‘I shouldn’t think
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