“My lord.” I curtsied.
So that was what I saw sitting against the wall. I took a deep breath, trying not to reassess Sir Leander. If actions and words maketh the man, as Father Clement preached, why was this one such a contradiction?
“The larger pieces will arrive later today,” said Sir Leander, with a reassuring smile at Saskia, who clasped her hands together and smothered a whoop of joy. Behind me, she whispered orders to Iris and Blanche, who scurried down the corridor. From their muffled exclamations and the sound of dragging, the sacks were taken to the hall. I lowered my chin to hide my smile, shaking my head.
Hiske knew better than to speak. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.
“I’m glad we’ve reached accord then,” said Sir Leander finally, offering Hiske the most amiable of grins. “Once more, my humblest apologies for the error, Makejoy; Mistress Makejoy.” He helped Master Makejoy to his feet, brushing down his jacket. “I swear by all that’s holy, I didn’t recognize you, what with this fine fabric, the white shirt—not a mark upon it. Not like the man I remember at all.” He glanced at Hiske. “Your wife knows how to ensure a stain doesn’t linger to cause comment or draw disapprobation, doesn’t she?”
“Aye, she does,” said Master Makejoy, a look of confusion upon his face. Ensuring his surcoat was straight, he smacked his hands together, casting Hiske urgent looks. “When your father instructed me to continue to look after the accounts at Holcroft House after Sheldrake’s death, I was under the impression I’d be answering to your brother, that Sir Symond was responsible. I was clearly mistaken.”
Sir Leander’s eyes narrowed. “It’s also my understanding that it’s Symond’s role, but since he’s attending the king’s daughter’s betrothal at Westminster, I can substitute for the time being. In these circumstances, we’ll have to agree, one Rainford is as good as the next.” His lips tightened and a muscle in his cheek began to twitch.
“Of course, of course, my lord. When you’re ready to depart Elmham Lenn,” continued Master Makejoy, unaware of the effect his words had, “and if you wish me to check the books until your brother is able, you’ve only to ask and I’ll arrange to inspect them—by appointment,” he added hastily.
“How long do you think you’ll be staying?” asked Hiske.
“Not long,” I answered, at the same time as Sir Leander said, “As long as it takes,” his gaze alighting on me briefly, a twinkle in those sapphire eyes.
I looked away.
Using his stick, Sir Leander lifted the cloak Master Makejoy had lost in their tussle and passed it to the factotum, who snatched it, wrapped it around his shoulders, and then, fitting his cap, mumbled a farewell.
“Good day to you, my lord. Master, Mistress Sheldrake. Come, Mistress Makejoy.”
Cousin Hiske, quite unable to believe that she’d been so firmly reprimanded and made in some measure to account for what she’d done, was frozen in place. I couldn’t help it, I felt a small flicker of pleasure and, I admit, gratitude toward Sir Leander that yet again, he had set something wrong to rights.
“Don’t you look at me like that, Anneke Sheldrake,” snapped Hiske, refusing to leave the room. “With that witch-gaze of yours.”
Stepping back so she and Master Makejoy could pass, I didn’t dignify her words with a response.
When she reached the doorway, Hiske turned and with a cold deliberateness examined me from top to toe. “You think you’re better than me, Anneke Sheldrake, you always have. But you’re not. Certainly not anymore. I’m a married woman and you’re nothing but a . . . a . . . brewster.”
She may as well have said slattern and we all knew it. Well, I’d been called worse and by so-called better people.
Tobias made a quiet noise that sounded like a growl. Hiske ignored him.
Master Makejoy tugged at his wife’s sleeve. “Come, dear, there’s no need for this—”
“No need?” she spat. “There’s every need. Someone has to tell her!”
“Tell me what?”
“What they’re saying in town.”
“I suggest you leave, Mistress Makejoy.” Sir Leander used his cane to indicate the door.
Hiske braced herself against the frame. “They’re saying that it won’t be long before you’re selling more than ale here . . .” Her eyes flashed to Sir Leander. “But perhaps they’re wrong, hey? Perhaps you’ve already started . . .”
With a swish of her skirts, Hiske fled. Master Makejoy trotted after her, casting a fearful and apologetic look over his shoulder.
Tobias followed. There was the chime of the shop door and heated words. Adam discreetly went after them.
Remaining in the cold, dark office beside me was Leander Rainford.
“Don’t,” I said, before he could open his mouth. “I know what you’re thinking.” Tying the boards, I slid the ledger back on the shelf.
“You might be surprised.”
I could feel tears building—tears of rage and sorrow. But, God be damned, I wouldn’t let them fall in front of this man. I needed to get out of the office before they did. “You’ve already made it clear what you think of me and I doubt what my cousin said will have changed your mind.”
“They were just words,” he said softly, stepping toward me, his stick slipping slightly on the wood.
I spun to face him. He was closer than I expected. “That’s a fine jest coming from the man who wielded one with such venom upon our first meeting.” Wetness struck my cheek and I swiped it away, all good intentions to thank him forgotten. “To you, maybe, they’re just words, but to a woman, as Hiske so kindly pointed out, they’re what her reputation is built upon.”
I went to leave but, as I brushed past Sir Leander, he grabbed my arm.
I glanced at where he gripped me. He pulled me closer. By God he was strong. “Then make your cousin eat hers,” he said quietly.
I held his eyes, my chest tight, my body burning, then shook myself free. “And you, my lord, what about you?”
“Me too,” he said. “Make me eat mine.”
I paused at the doorway, glancing back at him over my shoulder. “Not good enough. I want you to choke on yours.”
Before he could respond, I took off down the corridor and into the main hall. My heart was pounding, my face flamed. Thank the good Lord no one was about. I leaned against the wall. I’d never spoken to anyone like that in my life. What was it about this man that he made my temper flare to the point that I forgot both caution and etiquette? What about the gratitude I owed him, owed his family?
Shutting my eyes, I took a deep breath and released it, opening the fists I’d formed and shaking my hands in an effort to ease the tension in my body.
No matter what Sir Leander made me feel, the dark humors he managed to unleash, as God was my Lord and Savior, I would offer him thanks.
By Ninkasi and the crones, I would.
Pushing away from the wall, I opened my eyes and headed to the brewhouse.
Just not today.
Eighteen
Holcroft House
After the Ides of November to St. Catherine’s Day