“Don’t you ever speak about Adam, Will, or Westel in that way again, do you hear?”
“Fine. I won’t. I won’t ever speak about them again if you like.” His voice grew louder, reverberating around the office. “But someone has to tell you what you’re risking because they damn well won’t!”
“And what am I risking, Tobias? Go on, say it.” I wanted to hear it from his lips.
“Your reputation, Anneke. If you open an alehouse then any chance you have of finding a husband is dashed. All the tales being woven about you in town, they’ll not be restricted to a few bitter women or unhappy, jealous men. On the contrary, they’ll spread faster than Greek fire and you’ll be the one to burn. It won’t just be my master calling you a whore either.”
Thunder roared in my ears. Darkness flickered at the edges of my vision. I couldn’t recall ever being so angry. That he might be right infuriated me even more. I flexed my fingers by my side.
“You dare to say such a thing to me?”
“I’ll say whatever it takes to talk you out of this foolery! And, if I can’t, then you better get used to having it said about you. After all, you know what they say about women and alehouses?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” I said in a voice that suggested the opposite.
Tobias took a deep breath. The throbbing vein at his temple revealed the depth of his rage.
“When a woman opens an alehouse, she may as well open her legs.”
Unable to bear the reproach in his eyes, the superior tone in his voice, and, if I’m candid, the truth in what he said, I didn’t respond. Returning to the desk, I collected up my papers, running my eyes over the diagrams, the figures, though I didn’t really see them.
“Good God, Anneke.” He ripped the papers away from me. “You can’t seriously be considering this? If you go ahead, it will just be a matter of time before you and the family are dragged into the mire.”
“What else am I supposed to do, Tobias?” I took the sheet back, tearing it slightly as I did.
“Anything would be better than what you’re proposing.”
“Anything? What, even working for Cousin Hiske?”
“Aye, if it would save you from this.” He snatched the papers back and flapped them in my face. His eyes were flashing, and there were high spots of color on his cheeks.
I no longer knew my brother, and he certainly didn’t know me. The accord I’d felt between us was simply a product of my desperate imagination.
“Anyway, this is moot. I’ve made my decision.” Tobias slammed his fist into the palm of his other hand. “I forbid you.”
“You what?” My eyes narrowed. Incandescent fury began to unfurl, a great black sail in my gut. “Forbid me? Since when do you tell me what to do?”
Tobias lifted his chin. “I’m your brother and head of this family. I can tell you whatever I damn well please. You’ll not do this and that’s my final word.” He began to tear the paper into pieces. Flinging them into the fire, he slapped his hands together. “This conversation is over.”
I stared at him in shock. He may have had the Rainford blood running in his veins, but at that moment, he reminded me of Father.
Without thinking, I raised my hand and with all my strength struck Tobias across the face. His head snapped back. Blood poured from his lip. Staring at me in wide-eyed disbelief, he tentatively touched the area and his fingers came away carmine.
“You’re right, Tobias,” I said slowly and carefully, my hand burning, the jolt of drawing blood not yet registering. “We’ll not speak of this again. In fact, once you leave here, we won’t speak. Now, I suggest you go.” I pointed to the door, my arm quivering, my eyes glassy. Part of me wanted to stop this now, to run to my brother and fold him in my arms, take back everything. This wasn’t us; this wasn’t how it should be. I hesitated. May the dear Lord forgive me, I was too angry to apologize, too enraged to be the first to concede . . .
“I can’t believe you did that.” Tobias shook his head and gave a bitter laugh, wincing as his lip pulled. Dabbing his mouth with a kerchief, Tobias held up a hand to prevent me coming closer. “What was I thinking? Perhaps Sir Leander was right, perhaps he saw something that I’ve failed to note.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
Tobias pushed his face into mine. “You’re a whore after all.”
Inhaling sharply, I stepped back. “Mind your next words, Tobias. By all that’s sacred and holy . . .”
I could see the battle taking place behind his eyes. I prayed we would make things right between us. But the devil was in Tobias tonight as well. “Sometimes people deserve the names we bestow.”
A shudder ran through me. There was no return from this. “Get out. Now.”
“Oh, I’ll leave.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “But let me say one last thing. If you go ahead with this, then understand, I won’t be here to protect you—not from gossip or rumor, not from the unwelcome attentions of your guests, or from yourself. If you proceed then you’re on your own.”
“What you’ve shown me tonight, brother, is that I always have been.”
Without another word, Tobias strode from the office, slamming the door so hard the windows in the shop shook. I stood staring at the fire, without moving. Slowly, I sank into the chair, my entire body atremble, my throat dry, my mind numb.
Oh God, what just happened?
Like my parents, the hounds, and my reputation, it was evident I’d lost my brother as well. My head dropped and I wept as only one with a broken heart can.
Twenty-Five
Holcroft House
After the Feast of the Epiphany to the Ides of February
The year of Our Lord 1406 in the seventh year of the reign of Henry IV
I heard through Captain Stoyan that Tobias and Sir Leander arrived safely in Gascony and, after taking on cargo, sailed to the Mediterranean. Neither would be in English seas for at least another six months. In front of Adam and Saskia, Sir Leander bade me a solemn farewell; the way he pressed my hand and searched my eyes led me to surmise he knew that Tobias and I had argued. That my brother had stormed from the house before I rejoined everyone in the hall made our falling-out obvious, but I was too angry to explain or apologize. Promising to keep my brother safe, Sir Leander kissed my hand slowly and warmly, his eyes lingering on my lips as he raised his head. When he didn’t relinquish my hand but squeezed it involuntarily a few times, I gave him a pretty curtsy, despite my shaking knees. Too tense and anxious to understand that this leave-taking was for a goodly time, I said goodbye. Who was Sir Leander but my brother’s master, anyway? And hadn’t he been the one to bestow on me the awful name that Tobias used in the first place? I was glad to see the last of him, I told myself.
Was I a poor sister if I confessed to feeling relieved that Tobias had left? That I did not have to endure another moment in his company? Well, I was, and I stubbornly refused to accept any blame for our disagreement and pursued my plan to open an alehouse with renewed determination. Not only did I need to pay Lord Rainford, I also had to prove my brother wrong. If I was to earn any reputation, I would tell myself as I scrubbed the soon-to-open alehouse, polished spoons, and cleaned tankards and mazers alongside Iris and Westel, it would be as the efficient and generous manager of an excellent establishment that sold fine ale, beer, and fare.