Westel met my eyes. “We don’t ask for much, do we?”
“We don’t need much. Not really.” I studied him a moment longer, trying to ignore the unease that crept up my spine. “Come, we’ve two more barrels to fill before sext.” I let him precede me into the brewery and, as I watched his slump-shouldered walk, made up my mind that before the summer was over, I would ask him to leave. Saskia was right. There was something not right about him. Will’s death had affected him badly and it was cruel to have him stay. I would broach it with him shortly and give him plenty of time to become accustomed to the idea. I would ensure he had good references and enough coin to tide him over until he found employment.
I followed him inside, my mood and body lighter than it had been for a while.
That night, I asked Westel to accompany me to the office and told him of my decision that he would leave before the end of summer.
At first, he said nothing, just stared at the floor.
“Are you all right, Westel? I hope you understand, I’m very happy with you and your work and it will be hard to let you go, but I think that, in light of what’s happened, it’s for the best, don’t you?”
Surprising me with a dazzling smile, Westel nodded. “Oh, aye, mistress. It’s for the best. In fact, you took a difficult decision out of my hands and for that, the good Lord knows, I’m very grateful.”
Thirty-Two
Holcroft House
Midsummer’s Eve
The year of Our Lord 1406 in the seventh year of the reign of Henry IV
Much to my delight, the steady seas and Midsummer’s Eve brought a reply to my letter to Sir Leander and, to my shock, one from Tobias as well. Too busy to read them at first, I tucked them in my bodice, intending to read Tobias’s later and, like a fine repast, savor every word his master had written.
Midsummer’s Eve was a time for celebration and yet, as was our wont of late, we eschewed the town’s festivities to create our own. Even so, all day long people arrived at the church to set the bonfire that would blaze long into the night. Minstrels, jesters, and other mummers who would perform appeared in the neighboring yard, their colorful costumes, loud hails and cheers, as well as music, adding jollity to our day. There would be food, dancing, and much merrymaking, all of which meant the alehouse was extraordinarily busy.
Perhaps to make up for missing the public festivities, Blanche outdid herself, preparing venison pie, baked sturgeon, cheese tarts, lamprey, and custard swimming with almond milk, as well as beautifully shaped marchpane for us to relish. We ate late in the afternoon, around none, Father Clement briefly joining us, his efforts to persuade us next door unsuccessful. We took it in turns to tend the alehouse. Conversation flowed, and laughter. It wasn’t until Father Clement left to honor vespers, the servants closed the alehouse and began to clear away dinner, and Louisa took the twins to the nursery that I had the opportunity to retire to the solar and read my letters undisturbed.
Outside, the flames from the bonfire licked the sky, the smoke spiraling into the evening. Laughter, song, and good cheer accompanied me as, tempering the tiny thrills that raced through my chest, I broke the seal on Sir Leander’s missive carefully.
I cannot say what happened to alter the attachment I felt growing between myself and Sir Leander, but as I read the first few lines of his letter, the light of anticipation burning inside me all day was swiftly doused. The brevity of his note merely enhanced this. With a sinking heart, I read.
I send my greetings and God’s blessing and mine to you, Mistress Sheldrake (Why the formality when I believed us exempt from such things?). I’ve given some thought to young Karel’s situation and feel it would be in everyone’s best interests if you accepted Muire’s most generous offer. If Karel should excel as a clerk, which I’m in no doubt he will, then being apprenticed to the likes of Muire, with his connection to the Justiciars, means a career in law is not out of the question. Tobias informs me your father began in law before turning to a merchant’s life, so legal blood may yet be proven to flow in Karel’s veins. While this might go against your better judgment, to take help from the husband of someone who has caused you grievous injury, it’s to the future that you must look no matter what the past may have seemed to promise.
May God have you in his keeping and give you the grace to do as well as you know I would want.
Leander Rainford.
I froze, my back straight, my face unmoving, the letter utterly still in my rigid fingers. What was this? Where was the warmth? Our mutual understanding? Our mutual admiration? Or had that been a figment of my colorful imaginings? What happened to “I am yours to command”? Or, “All it would take is your expressed need”? It was as if the friendship I believed we’d nurtured had somehow wasted away. What had I done? My chest became heavy, solid. I know it was unreasonable, but until that exact moment, I didn’t know how much I depended on Sir Leander to offer me hope—and not just over Karel. I confess, I’d secretly longed for another solution to Karel’s situation, one that Sir Leander would provide and for which I’d be most grateful. But instead, he pushed me toward a course that filled me with despair, as it announced to the world that our standing had forever changed. Allowing Karel to become an apprentice to one of Master Makejoy’s acquaintances confirmed how far we’d fallen on the social scale.
I put Sir Leander’s letter aside and opened Tobias’s. It was a few pages and my eyes flew across the untidy words.
Greetings, dear sister,
I trust this finds you and the twins well and in God’s good graces. Sir Leander told me of Will Heymonger’s death and you have my deepest sympathy. It would be remiss of me, Anneke, if I did not remind you that I warned of what might happen if you ignored the advice of those who know better and proceeded with the alehouse. It is therefore God’s judgment that you now bear the consequences of your willful sins and foolish decisions, and I hope you’re doing this with good grace and many prayers. I expect that if you’ve not already relocated to Cousin Hiske’s that you will have done so by the time we next meet. Understand, Anneke, there’s no shame in companionship, not even to one such as our cousin and, over time, memories of what you did and what your poor choices led to will be forgotten. For certes, if from this day forth you demonstrate the good sense and modesty that I know resides within you, they will be forgotten by me.
If Tobias had been before me at this moment, I think, God forgive me, I would have slapped him again. The self-righteousness, the smugness, was more than I could bear. I scanned the rest of the letter quickly. He wrote about his travels along the Dalmatian Coast, the islands they encountered, the people. Lacking Sir Leander’s playfulness and eye for detail, his tales didn’t hold my interest, not when he held such a poor opinion of me.
Disheartened and about to toss it aside, the last few paragraphs caught my eye.
I also write to inform you that though we’d hoped to return to Elmham Lenn before the end of summer, another pleasure has been afforded us. Sir Leander and I will be docking in London, where, in the first week of August, my master will fulfill long-held plans of marrying his betrothed, the Lady Cecilia, widow of the former Chancellor of the Exchequer, Sir Walter Barnham . . .