Lady in Waiting. Anne Herries

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СКАЧАТЬ is so unfair,’ Catherine had complained to her father when one of their neighbours took away a stretch of land that had previously been common land. ‘He has so much, and they have so little.’

      ‘It is the fault of rising prices,’ Sir William explained. ‘Land owners can get no more rent for the land they have let to tenants for years past, but they must find more coin for everything they buy. Therefore, they must take more land into enclosure, and if they have title to it…the right is theirs.’

      Put like that, Catherine could understand why some landowners felt justified in enclosing land, but she knew that their actions caused much suffering for others.

      Were the Middletons like other farming gentry and forced to take land that had once been free for all? They had seemed prosperous to Catherine—and judging by the supper talk the previous evening, Sir Nicholas was a man of some substance.

      Catherine’s thoughts returned once more to the man who had rescued them the previous afternoon. Why could she not dismiss the incident from her mind? It mattered not if he thought her a cold, mannerless wretch. As indeed she had been the previous afternoon and evening, though she had tried to be more conciliatory in the garden—at least until he had looked at her so oddly.

      He was charming, but undoubtedly an ambitious rogue and it would be better for her peace of mind if she instantly forgot him, as no doubt he had already forgotten her.

      ‘What think you?’ Matthew looked at his brother-in-law as they surveyed the stretch of good land by the river. ‘It has always belonged to my family, but we thought it well to keep it as it is, a pretty stretch of sweet grass that all may graze. In summer I may have a few sheep here myself, though ’tis oft flooded in winter.’

      Nick’s eyes were serious as they rested on the strong, rather craggy features of Sarah’s husband. It had been a good match for his sister, one that he had approved soon after his father’s death. He knew Matthew to be a good man and understood he was troubled by his conscience. He had waited for Nick’s return before making any decision, simply because he found it a thorny problem.

      ‘You have the right to erect your fences,’ Nick said, knowing that Matthew would be guided by his opinion. ‘But it will cause hardship for the villagers.’

      ‘Aye, I know it,’ Matthew replied heavily. ‘It goes against the grain with me, but I need more land under cultivation…’

      ‘Why not take that piece of scrub to the north border?’ Nick suggested. ‘It will need more work to bring it round, but you may call upon the village folk to help you. Make it clear that you need more land and ask for their help in preparing the scrub in return for keeping this wash open for all.’

      The frown cleared from Matthew’s brow and he smiled in gratitude. ‘Aye, I’ll do it. I’ve not asked for the accustomed days in labour for many a year, for we all pay in coin these days—but I’ll take the labour in lieu of the land, and all may be satisfied. Sarah told me to consult you, and as usual she was right.’

      ‘My sister flourishes,’ Nick replied with a soft chuckle, affection and warmth in his eyes. He was fond of Sarah and she of him. ‘You have spoiled her and yet she is less fiery than of yore. Tell me, what kind of magic have you used to tame her?’

      ‘’Tis love, nothing more,’ Matthew answered with a smile. ‘Speaking of fiery wenches…what of Mistress Moor? Think you she was an uncommon beauty? That red hair and those eyes, and the whiteness of that skin…such a woman might tempt any man to madness.’

      ‘Do not let Sarah hear you,’ Nick warned, his eyes full of wicked laughter. ‘She will take a broom to you, I swear! But you are right, Matthew, Catherine Moor is a beauty, though she seemed overly proud and a little cold to me.’

      ‘Cold?’ Matthew raised his brows incredulously. ‘No, Brother, you cannot be serious? I would swear there was fire simmering beneath the ice. She has a haughty bearing I’ll grant you, but that is but a façade I dare swear. I vow it would be entertaining to see what lies beneath that cool manner, and would be tempted to probe for it right lustily were I not a married man.’

      ‘I’ll admit that a wench of that ilk is tempting to any man,’ Nicholas said, a smile on his lips as he remembered the way Mistress Catherine had glared at him. Even in the garden she had still seemed reserved and cool, though she had blushed when he first caught her amongst the herbs. It was probably true that there was fire beneath the ice, and in other circumstances he might have been tempted to breach the walls of the citadel, for he was a man of lusty habits and had taken his first wench when but fourteen in the hayloft of his home. Unfortunately, he had other more important matters on his mind and could not spare the time for dalliance.

      ‘When do you leave for London?’ Matthew asked as they remounted their horses, setting out to inspect further pastures that Matthew had a mind to plough up and put down to grain that year. The export of wool was frowned on these days, and the call was for more grain to keep down the price of bread, which like everything else had been rising of late. ‘Sarah is hoping you will stay a while.’

      ‘A few days at least,’ Nicholas replied. ‘I must be in town within a fortnight, but I have someone else I would wish to see first and it will take me some days to ride to Leicester and back. I may go tomorrow, then join you at the weekend again for a couple of days before I go on to London.’

      ‘You know your business best,’ Matthew said. ‘Sarah wishes you would marry and settle down, but I’ve told her you’ll find your own way when you’re ready. But we’ll say no more on the subject, for I see it vexes you.’

      Nick was frowning to himself as his companion fell silent. He would have liked to confide in Matthew, for he was a good man and true to his principles, but in knowledge lay danger and Nick would not involve his sister’s husband in this.

      There were but few men he would trust with the problem that was taxing his mind. The court was alive with intrigue, and one could never be sure where others stood. This business of Norfolk had seemed settled after the failure of the Northern Earls in their uprising of November 1569. The Queen, reluctant to punish her cousin, had allowed him at least partial freedom—but there was treachery afoot, and if it were not for the vigilance of men like Francis Walsingham and Sir William Cecil England might even now be at war with a foreign invader.

      Nicholas’s business in London was important but not urgent. There was time enough for him to speak to the man he trusted most outside his family. Oliver Woodville was his late brother’s closest friend, and the man who had brought them the news of Harry’s death. He had broken the news first through a letter and then had come in person on his return to England.

      Oliver had been very distressed by Harry’s death, but though he assured the family that it had been caused by a common fever, which affected many travellers, Nicholas had always retained a faint suspicion that Oliver himself was not convinced. Or perhaps it was merely Nicholas who refused to be convinced, because his grief was too terrible to bear, his sense of loss too deep for a younger brother to accept. However, his reason for seeking Oliver out was only partially to do with his brother’s death all those years ago; he had other concerns that nibbled at his mind, troubling him with a half-forgotten memory. More pressing perhaps was his secret work for Walsingham.

      The Italian banker Ridolfi had most certainly been behind this latest plot, but was there also another hand involved? Walsingham was uncertain, though he suspected something…something hidden beneath the layers of intrigue and deceit.

      ‘Ridolfi would seem the prime mover in this plot, for it is certain Norfolk hath СКАЧАТЬ