Kate Sedley - The Wicked Winter

As for you, my child — ' he glared fiercely at the little kitchenmaid '- you would do well to contemplate the state of your immortal soul rather than consider ways of adorning your body.' He turned to the housekeeper. 'You may send to inform Lady Cederwell that I am here.'

Phillipa Talke hesitated, unwilling to disoblige a holy man, but even more afraid of defying her mistress's orders.

'You must seek her out for yourself, Father,' she answered, but with a hint of apology in her voice. 'When Lady Cederwell is at her devotions no one is allowed to disturb her. Anyone who did so would be severely punished. You, however, would suffer no such fate.'

Friar Simeon inclined his head.

'Your mistress sounds as if she is a woman after my own heart. What a truly fortunate lot yours must be — ' he included all those present, except myself, in a comprehensive sweep of his arm '- to be in the employ of such a one.' He did not appear to notice the lack of enthusiasm and almost audible murmur of disagreement which his statement provoked, but continued, 'Where may I find your mistress?' The youngest of the women, if you discounted the kitchenmaid, which it was easy enough to do, now stepped forward, determined to establish her superiority over the others.

'I,' she announced grandly, 'am Adela Empryngham, the wife of Lady Cederwell's brother. Of course it goes without saying that I should not be punished were I to show you the way, but,' she added hurriedly, 'it is snowing again and I suffer from delicate health, so you will understand, Brother, why I cannot accompany you. You will find Jeanette in the tower which you may have noticed as you arrived on manor lands. It stands clear of the outbuildings, south-west by about the length of a furrow.'

I thought her estimate of the distance over-generous, but was willing to concede that my own first glimpse of the tower had been a cursory one, and it might well be further off than I had imagined. I had no time to pursue the thought, however, for at that moment there was an interruption. A man who could only be Sir Hugh Cederwell strode into the kitchen.

He had seen, I guessed, some forty or more summers, a handsome, florid man with brown eyes and an abundance of dark brown hair which clustered in thick waves and curls across the nape of his neck and around his ears, but which was starting to thin a little on the crown. He was heavily built, barrel-chested, but not short of stature due to long, tapering flanks and a surprising length of leg from knee to ankle. The whole effect was one of power but with a curious top-heaviness. His voice, when he spoke, was deep and resonant.

'What is going on here? Why all the noise? Where's Lady Cederwell?' He caught sight of the friar and myself. 'Who are these people?'

It was my companion who answered, silencing the women with an upraised hand.

'I am Brother Simeon of the Dominican Order, and I have been summoned here by your wife, for what reason I have yet to discover. I demand to be allowed to speak to her forthwith.'

The knight's forehead puckered. 'Brother Simeon? The same friar who has been preaching hell and damnation in these parts for the past two weeks?' When Simeon nodded, I thought I saw a sudden apprehension flicker at the back of the dark brown eyes, but it was too momentary for me to be certain. Sir Hugh gave a blustering laugh and continued, 'I might have guessed that my wife would wish to meet a man with such a pious reputation. She is a very devout woman.' The last words were spoken with what could have been a sneer. The friar certainly chose to imerpret it as such, and iris eyes sparked with fury.

'Never mock at the godly, Sir Hugh! It would be as well for you if all the females of your household were to follow the example of your lady. Our acquaintance has been brief, but they seem to me to be a pack of gibbering fools, concerned only with the material things of this world; with which one of them is of greater earthly importance than her sisters.' He rounded with such ferocity on the women that they drew back from him, huddling together in a frightened little group. 'You stupid creatures! As Our Lord reminds us in the Holy Scriptures, your soul may be required of any one of you this very night! What will it matter then, when the pit of hell yawns at your feet, who is in charge in this kitchen? What will it profit you?'

Sir Hugh interrupted without compunction. 'Are you sure Lady Cederwell sent for you, Brother? I have no knowledge of her doing so. Does she know you? Have you met?' The friar's lips thinned until they were almost invisible and he sucked in a rasping breath.

'No, she knows me only by reputation, but that is sufficient. Do you dare to suggest that I am lying? I, Simeon?' His thin chest swelled. 'However, I have a witness. The pedlar here can vouch for the veracity of my words. Tell him, Chapman!'

So I told Sir Hugh of my meeting with the two men at the mill, and confirmed that they had indeed been searching for the friar on the orders of Lady Cederwell. The knight looked grim.

'Can you describe them to me'?'

I did my best, which proved to be good enough, for both he and Mistress Talke said in unison, 'Jude and Nicholas.' Sir Hugh added bitterly, 'Of course! Her own men, brought with her from Campden.'

Adela Empryngham nodded in confirmation. 'My father-in-law's people were always noted for their loyalty to him.

Once he was dead, they transferred that loyalty to Jeanette and Gerard.'

Sir Hugh snorted derisively. 'I should take care how you link Jeanette's and Gerard's names, my dear Adela. I doubt that either Jude or Nicholas feel much loyalty towards a bastard.'

The silence which followed this last remark was broken by a snigger from the cook, Martha Grindcobb. Mistress Empryngham coloured painfully, her bosom heaving with anger and indignation.

'I always knew it was a mistake for us to come here with Jeanette,' she shrilled breathlessly, as soon as she could trust herself to speak. 'I've always known how you regard us; as poor dependants, with every penny grudged that's spent on our food and clothing. Many and many a time I have told Gerard that he should leave here and stand on his own two feet, so that we should not have to be beholden to you.' Sir Hugh lifted his lip.

'And what did Master Gerard say in reply?' Again the colour suffused Adela Empryngham's face.

'He won't go,' she mumbled. Then she added with greater spirit, 'He feels it necessary to remain with his sister…'

'His half-sister!' Sir Hugh cut in, but she ignored him.

'… knowing how unhappy she is.'

Sir Hugh laughed, but there was no mirth in the sound.

'Jeanette has always been unhappy and always will be. She is as God made her, and He made her, seemingly, to be one of the most miserable of His creatures.' He shrugged. 'How can it be otherwise when she spends three-quarters of her waking life upon her knees and the other quarter sniffing out the wrongdoings, real or imagined, of her fellows? However, I am delighted to know, Adela, that you at least have enough sense to see that Gerard would be best away from here, instead of battening on my goodwill. There's plenty of honest work to be had if he looks for it. Persuade him to return to the Cotswolds. Sheep country, where wealth abounds. There are any number of rich sheepmen who would offer him employment.'

Friar Simeon intervened. '

'Am I to be kept waiting here all day? I wish to be conducted to Lady Cederwell immediately.'

Sir Hugh answered indifferently, repeating what we had already been told, 'You will find her in the old Saxon tower, which you can see well enough if you cross the courtyard and go out by the little gate. It stands some way distant from the manor, on the mudflats of the estuary, and is her own domain. She has made it hers in the five and a half years since she first came here, turning the uppermost storey into a chapel, even though there is one here, in the house.' He went on, as if struck by a sudden thought, 'Our chaplain is sick at the moment. He has been for more than a week and is therefore unable to carry out his duties at present. Perhaps that's why my wife has sent for you, Friar. She is in constant fear for her immortal soul. She must confess her sins and be granted absolution every day or she cannot sleep at night.'