Read To Wear The White Cloak: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery Online

Authors: Sharan Newman

To Wear The White Cloak: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery (27 page)

BOOK: To Wear The White Cloak: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery

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“Archer!” Catherine said in surprise. “Margaret, why are you hanging on to Archer?”

“He was trying to go upstairs,” Margaret said. “I saw him as I came back with the bucket. He thought everyone had gone outside.”

“I was going to see if the fire had caught on any of the trees by the house,” Archer explained, pushing the girls’ arms away and trying to regain his dignity.

“We’ve nothing growing close by,” Catherine said. “The danger is more to our neighbors than to us. All the others are in the back. Perhaps you could help them.”

Archer gave a curt nod and followed Catherine out.

“You saw him, didn’t you?” Margaret asked Clemence. “He was looking for something to steal, I’m sure of it.”

“I didn’t see him,” Clemence said. “I only heard you cry out and came to help you.”

“Well, I saw him, and he was sneaking,” Margaret said. “People don’t sneak when they’re trying to help. Oh, and thank you, whoever you are.”

By the time the rain and the neighbors managed to leave the oak only a smoldering ruin, everyone was soaked and bedraggled. Samonie opened a wine cask and handed cups around, with Martin refilling them as necessary. The men thanked her and tracked mud and soot back through the hall as they left.

Samonie surveyed the mess.

“I did say the rushes needed changing anyway,” she said.

Edgar came in, his face as black as the first time Clemence had seen him, when it was smeared with kohl.

“God spare me another such day!” he exclaimed. “Are we all accounted for?”

“Yes,
carissime
,” Catherine said, trying to find a clean spot on his face to kiss. “Actually, we’ve one extra.”

She indicated Clemence, back in the corner, looking tired and confused.

“It’s nearly dark,” Catherine continued. “We’ll have to keep her here for the night.”

Clemence overheard her. “Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “Lambert will be frantic!”

“There’s nothing for it,” Edgar told her. “Montmartre is too far to go in the dark, especially in this weather. Lambert should know that you’d have sense enough to find a safe place to stay.”

He looked at Clemence. It struck him that she was about the same age Catherine had been when they met and with the same look about her, as if the world hadn’t so much as breathed upon her yet. If Lambert were any kind of man at all, he’d be more than frantic by now. Edgar felt a great pity for him.

Samonie could be heard down in the kitchen, clanging pans. Catherine looked at Edgar.

“Perhaps you could go down there to wash,” she suggested. “Instead of having Samonie bring the soap and water to you.”

Edgar listened. The clanging had an angry tone to it.

“We should think about bringing in another servant,” he said. “Especially if we have any more days like this.”

“I’m so sorry,” Clemence said to Catherine after he had left. “I’ve just added to your problems.”

“Of course not,” Catherine assured her. “You may even be the answer to some of them. If Jehan is now suborning strangers to assist in his plans to harm us, then it’s well past time for him to be stopped.”

Sometime later they were all relatively clean, the rushes swept to one side of the hall and a dinner assembled. Catherine and Edgar stood at
either end of the table and gave thanks that the fire had not caused any serious damage.

They had just sat down when the knocker sounded again. Before Edgar could do more than swear, Catherine got up.

“I’ll see who it is,” she said. “Perhaps someone left a bucket behind.”

She pulled back the grill and looked out.

“Oh, Solomon,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d be back tonight.”

“I heard that there were fires on the Grève and I came to be sure you were all right.”

He followed her in.

“By the smell of it, something was burning nearby,” he said. “Hubert was worried, too, by the way.”

“Hush.” Catherine looked to see if Clemence had overheard. “We’re fine, Solomon, just very tired. Here, you can share the loaf with Margaret. The children are already asleep.”

“Thank you,” Solomon said.

He started to sit next to Margaret, then noticed Clemence. He glanced at Edgar, who waved his hand in resignation.

“Our guest for the night,” he nodded toward Clemence.

“May the Lord protect you,” he said as he straightened. “My Lady … ?”

His look was full of admiration. Margaret suddenly had trouble swallowing her bread.

“This is Clemence, Solomon,” Catherine said. “She was caught out in the storm. She’ll be sleeping with Margaret tonight. I’ll explain everything in the morning. Please.”

Edgar noted Margaret’s stricken expression and bent over his own loaf, groping around in the sauce for a bit of meat. He prayed sincerely that this day was finally ended.

As soon as the Sabbath was over, Hubert started packing his bags.

“What are you doing, Chaim?” Abraham asked.

“The sooner I’ve gone, the safer it will be for everyone,” Hubert said. “Including you.”

“What about your daughter and her family?” Rebecca said sharply. “Don’t you think you owe them more?”

Hubert responded with equal annoyance. “The best thing I can do for them is vanish. Now that the Torah is out of the house, there’s nothing left that can make them appear to be apostates.”

“I suppose not,” Rebecca said. “Certainly the
mokh
wouldn’t …”

Hubert gaped at her. “Catherine is using a
mokh
? Why?”

“Because the midwife told her another child so soon could kill her,” Rebecca answered. “And from what she told me of her last delivery, I agree.”

“And that
mesfaë
son-in-law of mine can’t control himself for her sake?” Hubert exclaimed. “Some Christian!”

Rebecca laughed. “You haven’t rid yourself of all their attitudes, yet, Chaim. My impression was that it was Catherine who was fed up with abstinence, not Edgar.”

Hubert found that thought somewhat unpalatable.

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” he said. “Even if someone found the mokh, they wouldn’t know what it was.”

Rebecca laughed again, shaking her head at him.

“I could name you a dozen of your neighbors who would spot it at once for what it was,” she said. “Do you think Catherine is the only Christian woman who has come to me for instruction? And they talk with each other. How else would Catherine have known what to ask me for? I think that when you shed your old life, you lost your common sense!”

Hubert went on with his packing.

“Nevertheless,” he stated, “my presence is dangerous to them and to you. I’m leaving at dawn.”

“Alone?” Abraham asked. “With no guard? How far do you think you would get before you were relieved of everything you have, from the Torah to your boots and
brais
?”

“I’ve traveled these roads most of my life,” Hubert said. “I know how to avoid brigands.”

“What you carry is too precious to risk, Chaim,” Abraham said. “There’s a party of traders leaving at the beginning of next week. You and Joel won’t be noticed among them.”

“And until then?” Hubert asked. “Must I remain in hiding like some criminal?”

“To the Edomites, that’s what you are,” Rebecca reminded him. “And I don’t consider my home exactly a vile dungeon.”

Hubert hastened to placate her, saying that he wanted no better refuge.

“You can pass the time studying,” Abraham said. “Rabbi Jacob has loaned us some of his grandfather’s tractates to copy. Rabbi Isaac explains the meaning of the Bible carefully and clearly. It’s just what you need before going on to the Talmud.”

Hubert agreed with little enthusiasm. The subject interested him greatly, but he wasn’t sure Rabbi Isaac’s commentary would be enough to overwhelm the feeling of dread that had been growing in him ever since his return to Paris.

Lambert had passed a fruitless night, asking for Clemence at every church, convent and respectable inn. He’d even tried the Temple preceptory. The doorkeeper there had turned him away rudely, with the statement that no woman would ever be allowed past him after dark and precious few before then.

“Where could she have vanished to?” Lambert lamented to Jehan.

“The time has certainly come to fear the worst,” Jehan shook his head. “We can only assume she’s been taken by the demons.”

“I prayed we’d find her anywhere else!” His heart was pounding so fiercely that he could barely form the words. “And now we’ve wasted so much time! What might they be doing to her? We must go to the provost at once.”

“I’m reconsidering that,” Jehan said. “The guards have no weapons that will harm demons. Has Clemence any protection of her own?”

“She wears a cross of her mother’s that has an ampule embedded in it that holds one of the tears of the Virgin,” he reminded himself. “Caught in a vial by Saint John at the foot of the Cross.”

“Well,” Jehan threw up his hands, banishing all doubt, “if you had told me that at the first, I would have reassured you at once. Whom Our Lady protects needs no earthly guard.”

Lambert was comforted enough by this to be able to sit quietly while Jehan explained his rescue plan.

“The moon is entering the last quarter and, if we’re lucky, there will be clouds tomorrow night, as well, making the street dark.”

He sat on the deep windowsill and kicked his heels against the wall. It occurred to Lambert that he had never seen Jehan completely still. The man even tossed in his sleep.

“It should be no problem to evade their guards,” Jehan was saying. He stopped. “Are you attending to me, boy?”

Lambert jerked his attention back. “Yes, we evade the guards. How do we get around the sleeping household? Don’t we have to go through the hall to reach the steps to the counting room? Surely the servants sleep there.”

“No, the woman and her son sleep in an alcove in the kitchen,” Jehan explained. “We’ll have to be careful there. But the hall should be empty unless there’s a guest.”

“And if there is?” Lambert said after a moment. He was trying to keep his mind off Clemence’s peril, but it wasn’t working.

“If there is, don’t worry,” Jehan smiled in anticipation. “I’ll take care of it.”

The smile should have alerted Lambert, but he was too worried about Clemence to notice.

“Must I go back to Montmartre?” Clemence said the next morning. “Is there no one else who could take me in?”

They had finished morning prayers and broken their fast. Edgar had sent for the horse and was in a hurry to take Clemence back and get to the
Parleoir
in time to discuss some Spanish leather with the man who supplied the king’s soldiers with tack. Clemence sat at the table with Edana in her lap. Edgar shook his head. It seemed that Margaret and Edana between them had totally allayed Clemence’s fears. He hoped the girl wasn’t always so trusting.

“There really isn’t any other safe place for you,” Catherine said. “With Lambert believing Jehan’s lies, it would be better if he didn’t find you here.”

“Yes.” Clemence spoke slowly. “He might believe that you’ve bewitched me. Perhaps you have.” She hugged Edana. “But if so, then I find enchantment very pleasant. I only wish you would tell me how Father’s …”

“Catherine,” Margaret interrupted, struck by a new idea, “I know Clemence isn’t used to rough quarters, but the felt maker has decided to rent a room on his second floor, just until the pilgrim army leaves. His wife doesn’t much like the idea of soldiers or students there. She’d be pleased to have a wellborn lady stay with them, and I think could be persuaded to bring her meals up so Clemence needn’t go out. And Willa would be right there to see that she’s well taken care of.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful!” Clemence exclaimed. “And when I find him, Lambert could join me and not have to room with Jehan anymore. But what about …”

“That would be a blessing,” Catherine said doubtfully, not hearing the last words. “Edgar?”

She could tell that Edgar wasn’t pleased with this. Clemence would perforce still be under their protection until she was safely bestowed on either the nuns or her husband.

Edgar pulled at his chin, bending his mouth into an exaggerated frown. The three women stared up at him, four if one counted Edana. Blue, brown and light green eyes pled with him to agree. He decided to accept defeat.

“Very well,” he muttered. “If the room is decent and hasn’t already been promised, I’ll take Clemence there instead of to the nuns.”

“Thank you, my lord, thank you.” Clemence slid Edana to the floor and knelt before him. “I’m forever in your debt.”

“That’s no matter,” Edgar answered, embarrassed. “Margaret, do you know how much the price of the room is?”

BOOK: To Wear The White Cloak: A Catherine LeVendeur Mystery

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