‘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 towards 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 any more. I’m a married woman and you’re nothing but a … a … brewster.’
She may has 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 towards 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 humours he managed to unleash, as God was my Lord and Saviour, 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
The year of Our Lord 1405 in the seventh year of the reign of Henry IV
Three days later, on a blustery autumn morning, Adam, Saskia, Captain Stoyan, the twins and I waved farewell to Tobias and Sir Leander from the docks. Their cog, the Lady Caragh, a large vessel about eighty feet in length with cargo ranging from sheep and horses to wool and tin, cut across the placid waters of the harbour and into the churning seas beyond the heads. I confess my heart was in my throat as we watched their sails disappear over the horizon. They would be reunited with the Sealhope in London and from there, cross to Flanders.
On my return to the house, I was pleased to see Will and Blanche already looking after patrons in the shop. First ensuring the children started their lessons, I went to the brewhouse.
By lunchtime, another batch of ale was cooling in the troughs, malted grain was spread across the trays ready to be dried in the kiln, and there were two brimming sacks to go to Perkyn Miller for grinding. As Adam strained finished ale into kegs, I thought how pleasant it had been having Tobias and, surprisingly, his master helping to make ale.
‘Fancy such a fine gentleman offering his services and working so hard? And in here?’ Adam shook his head in wonder. ‘He’s not too proud, like some. That foot of his doesn’t seem to be much of a liability, either. Master Tobias boasted it’s never been one — in battle, on horseback or at sea. It’s others who underestimate Sir Leander because all they see is an affliction. Yet my lord acquitted himself very well.’ As Adam praised Sir Leander, my mind drifted.
It was easy to underestimate my lord, but not only for the reasons Adam gave. Who’d have thought he’d be so willing to help indeed? Memories of Sir Leander toiling by my side were as fresh as the ale being poured behind me.
When Tobias first dragged his master to the brewery, I was angry and confused. Understanding that my mood would affect the ale, I pushed aside my misgivings and listened as Tobias justified their presence by arguing if I wanted his support, then he had the right to know exactly what I was doing. Interpreting Sir Leander’s silence as complicity in Tobias’s scheme, it also occurred to me that he was likely to report what I was doing back to his father, so I determined to demonstrate the seriousness of my intentions and the level of industry involved. I treated Sir Leander like the others, asking him to perform the same roles and to the same exacting standards. Convinced he wouldn’t last the morning, I was astonished when, after breaking fast, he was the first to rejoin me in the brewhouse.
‘If you could tend to the malthouse floor, my lord, I’d appreciate it,’ I said over my shoulder, loading wood into the kiln and blowing gently on the kindling.
‘Certes,’ said Sir Leander, then hesitated.
Aware he hadn’t moved, I turned around, my brows raised. ‘Just grab the rake over there, remove your footwear and I’ll show you what’s needed in a moment. Adam will take over as soon as he’s returned from Master Thatcher’s.’
I bent back to my task, feeling the first risings of antagonism that he should hesitate to do as I asked, when it occurred to me I’d been insensitive. The sprouting grain formed a mat of roots that became quite tangled and hard to separate, he needed balance in order to
heave the grain — how could he do that with his twisted foot let alone a cane? I turned to retract my order only to find him almost upon me.
‘Mistress Sheldrake, I feel I owe you an apology.’
Sir Leander stepped even nearer and, all too aware of his closeness, of how large he was, I tried to resist the urge to create space between us. Was it the long overdue thanks I’d finally and awkwardly proffered him the day our furniture was returned that prompted this? Steadying my breathing, I closed the metal door of the kiln just as the fire roared and rose slowly, dragging my sooty hands down my apron. Moisture dusted his dark cape, glistened in his black locks, a muscle in his jaw twitched. I don’t think I’d noticed before the smooth, golden quality to his skin. There was a scent of warm velvet, musky cologne and something else. My heart skipped. I prayed the heat in my cheeks would be attributed to the kiln.
‘When we first met,’ he began, ‘I’m afraid my temper had the better of me. I allowed idle yet vicious gossip and my own assumptions about … well, I allowed my prejudices and, I admit, that of your cousin, to colour my judgement of you. I called you an unforgivable name and for that, I’m deeply sorry. I do beg your forgiveness.’
Unable to credit what I was hearing, I was caught unawares. Ready to trade barbs, the sincerity of his apology quite undid me. I grabbed the ale-stick. I needed to hold something, to be prepared for the distraction activity offered.
‘I still find it difficult to credit, my lord, that you would think Tobias had such a sister as you assumed me to be.’
Sir Leander made a soft noise that might have been a laugh. Resting his cane against the wall, he undid his cape, leaned against the trough and folded his arms. ‘I didn’t think. Tobias would only ever speak about you in the warmest and most respectable of terms over the years. When we arrived in Elmham Lenn and he learned what you were doing, never mind what your cousin told him, he was shocked; I was as well. On top of discovering what your father did; what mine ….’ He paused and studied the floor a moment. ‘I only sought to protect him, to lash out at those who I perceived had hurt him.’
‘You thought me capable of hurting my brother?’ I regarded him incredulously.
‘Your father did … It was not a huge stretch to assume another Sheldrake might as well.’
He was right. It wasn’t.
‘I would never …’ I began, then shut my mouth. Despite my best efforts, acrimony bloomed. I released the ale-stick and with one hand on my hip, directed a finger towards his chest. ‘That doesn’t excuse what you said. That you thought to call me such a name.’
Before I could prevent him, he swept my hand into one of his. I tried to withdraw it, but he tightened his grip and stared, daring me to pull away. His touch was warm, strong. With his thumb, he gently stroked the back of my hand.
‘I told you, I didn’t think. That’s my problem. When I discovered the terms of the contract you made with my father, that you agreed to work for him should this fail,’ his gaze took in the brewhouse, ‘well, let’s just say, when I then set eyes on you …’ His thumb rested warmly against my flesh. I forgot to breathe. ‘I jumped to less than savoury conclusions about the kind of work to which my father might put you, assuming your … complicity if not initiation of such an arrangement. It wouldn’t be the first time Father has … taken advantage of a Sheldrake.’
‘You thought I — That he … Oh …’ My hand went limp in his and I released my breath, unable to continue. I was shocked, ashamed. Sir Leander assumed I was like my mother, that I’d succumbed to his father’s charms — worse, that I’d bargained my own away. My body was afire with indignation, humiliation and emotions I couldn’t understand. Part of me wanted to run from his sight, but another part wanted to defend both my character and my mother’s. Only, I didn’t know how. And, truth be told, while he caressed me in that absent-minded way, I could barely think. My knees were weak, my resolve to confront him more so. What a sorry and unfair impression we must have made as a family. As far as he was concerned, my mother was a whore and my father, instead of punishing her as most husbands would, or seeking justice, had struck a devil’s bargain with the man who’d cuckolded him, turning his shame into some kind of business arrangement that ensured the entire family was ruined. How could I expect Sir Leander to understand it when I did not?
The fire crackled, the kiln was hot against my back.
‘Can you forgive me?’ he asked softly, stooping slightly so our faces were level.
For a fleeting moment, I glimpsed a different man. The man who fearlessly strutted the timbers of a heaving ship despite his affliction, who, according to Tobias, was brave and foolhardy in battle, and accustomed to making quick decisions and being obeyed. This was the man who watched over my brother.
Sensing my hesitation, he raised my hand to his lips. Wide-eyed, I stared as they pressed against my skin, tender yet ever so firm. His lashes were long and dark, his hair shiny. I sucked in my breath; it was as if a spark ignited deep inside me. He kissed my hand again, this time, answering it with an insistent grip and turning his face ever so slightly so his cheek, for just a fleeting second, rested against the back of my hand. Shocked at such an intimate gesture, once more I tried to extract my hand. This time, he released it slowly, drawing out the moment, and looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. I brushed my other hand against where his lips had touched, where his cheek had momentarily lain. A flicker of a smile crossed his face. Ah, I understood. Sir Leander had used this ploy before.
Others may have accepted an admission of error, his heartfelt apology.
I was not others.
‘I cannot,’ I said finally.
Sir Leander took a step back and blinked. If I hadn’t been so serious, I would have laughed at the owlish expression on his face. Few denied this gentleman.
‘I can’t forgive you,’ I continued. ‘Not yet. It was a harsh, cruel word, my lord, callously and thoughtlessly delivered. It hurt me deeply. I cannot dismiss it from my memory simply because you bid me do so. I am not my mother, Sir Leander, neither am I my father to strike a poor bargain and I perceive your apology to be one. You haven’t yet paid the price of your rudeness, not according to my accounting.’ I raised my finger to prevent him speaking. ‘But, to prove I’m not completely without reason, there’s something I can do — I can give you another chance.’
He began to smile.
‘Only one,’ I said, holding a finger steady to make my point.
‘That’s all I need,’ he said, and with a toss of his head and a smile that creased his eyes and dimpled his cheeks, threw his cloak over the table, spun around and headed to the malthouse. Shucking off his boots, he scooped up the rake with his cane, wielding it like a sword as he descended the steps.
It was some minutes before I resumed my work.
After that, things changed between us. As each hour passed, the tightness I felt between my shoulders, the hum of slow-burning anger that Sir Leander’s presence generally presaged, transformed into something else.
Two days later, the ship from Exeter arrived and they were gone.
And so it was, in the days after we bade Tobias and Sir Leander farewell, Saskia, Adam and I were doing the work that had for a short time at least been shared among five.
For all the warnings about the friary, that townsfolk would be too afraid to purchase from me lest they offend the abbot, these past weeks had seen the ale walk out the shop door almost as soon as the bushel was hung. I’d begun to take orders as well. Good as his word, Master Proudfellow not only sold my ale, but spoke to the other innkeepers in town, persuading them that if they all offered some of my brew as well as the friary’s, then not only would they be unlikely to be punished, but they were helping everyone’s business. I now brewed ale for the Gull’s Rise, the Crown and Anchor, the Pickled Herring, and the Bull’s Head, inns close to the docks. Master Proudfellow said there were more wanting to order, but they were being cautious, waiting to see if there were consequences
for the others. I was relieved, for it was all I could do to keep up with demand.
It was St Catherine’s Day when Father Clement came to visit. I was on my way from the kitchen to the brewhouse when the hounds alerted me to a visitor. Waving with joy, I went to greet him, calling out reassurances to the dogs, only slowing my pace when I noted the two black-robed men accompanying him. What were they doing here? My heart began to hammer. I wiped my hands on the apron.
‘God give you good day, Father Clement,’ I smiled, my expression quizzical.
‘You too, Mistress Sheldrake,’ said the Father. ‘May the Lord shine blessings upon you.’ With a look I interpreted as apologetic, he introduced me to his companions. ‘This is Brother Osbert, the sub-prior of St Jude’s. Brother Marcus here is the cellarer.’ There was a slight quiver in his voice. For certes, the friary had sent some powerful men to me.
‘Sirs, by God you are welcome,’ I said, granting them a curtsey, hoping I didn’t sound as concerned as I felt.
‘Mistress Sheldrake,’ said Brother Osbert, a portly man with a ruddy complexion and intelligent eyes. ‘Forgive this unexpected visit. His grace, Abbot Hubbard, has asked us to present a business proposition to you and, as we were in Elmham Lenn to oversee the St Catherine’s Day mass, we thought we’d take the opportunity. We pray this is a convenient time. Is there somewhere we can talk?’
Surely, my ears were deceived? ‘The abbot wants to do business with me?’ The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention.
‘That he does.’ Brother Marcus nodded affably, a too-wide grin splitting his face, spoiled only by the fact he was missing many teeth and the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
Before I could respond, Adam stepped out of the brewery, wiping his hands on a balled cloth. The dogs were still barking fit to bring down the heavens, and with a frown he shut them in the stables before joining me, his boots crunching in patches of remnant frost.
Introductions were made and with some reluctance, I led the brothers back to the house. As we passed the brewhouse, the door blew open and the rich aroma of mash and wort wafted over us.
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