Chapter Thirteen #3
“Come with me,” she said, resignation in her tone. “Come have something to eat and then I will find you a place to sleep. When you have rested, we will speak again.”
McCloud looked at her, knowing she was only doing this out of duty.
He doubted there was instant forgiveness in her heart for him and he understood that.
But he was sincere in his words and it was something only time would tell.
He hoped she would at least give him the chance to reclaim that man he’d lost.
“I would be grateful,” he said. “And I am quite hungry.”
“I thought you would be.”
“Not much is growing this time of year that is edible, so I have had to beg scraps for the past few days. The coinage Val gave me is long since gone.”
Val. There was that name. Vesper had been doing a good job of putting thoughts of the man aside until that moment and, now, he was in her head again.
Her thoughts began to turn from her father to Val, of the doubts she had in insisting upon their separation.
It had been many days since she’d last heard from him and he hadn’t sent her the necklace yet, the sign that he still wanted to court her. Now, that was all she could think of.
Her father knew Val, didn’t he? Perhaps he would have some answers.
“A man like Val…,” she said, pausing a moment before continuing. “He has a great many duties, does he not? What I mean is that he would be very busy, all of the time… would he not?”
McCloud trudged through the mud beside her, feeling the icy dampness against his frozen feet. “He is a man with great responsibility,” he said. He eyed her. “I do not know what was said between you two after I left to bury your brother. Did he speak further to you about your future together?”
Vesper shrugged. She wasn’t sure she wanted to tell her father everything. Although she wanted his insight, she didn’t want to give the man a confession in order to get it. She glanced up at him.
“You do not blame him for Mat’s death, do you?” she asked. “You know that he had no choice. He told you that.”
McCloud’s features seemed to tighten as memories of that day returned.
He paused thoughtfully before replying. “Had the situation been reversed and it was his son I had stood in judgement over, I would have done all I could to spare his life. I thought Val was my friend. He should have… he should have spared him.”
Vesper frowned. “Papa, he was surrounded by a mob and by men of the law who were looking to him to dispense justice,” she said.
“I do not know much about the law but I know that if Mat had been anyone else, Val would have been compelled to do the same thing. Just because he was your son did not give him any special protection for what he had done because the man was guilty. Surely you understand that.”
“Mayhap I do, but I am still reconciling myself to the fact that my old friend would execute my son. My son.”
“And I am sure Val is having a difficult time reconciling how you lied to him and tried to woo his mother. Therefore, you have no right to be angry with a man you tried to dupe.”
She was correct. God help him, McCloud knew she was. But he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Val had done his duty when it came to Mat and McCloud was trying not to hate the man for it.
“But I have realized my folly,” he said quietly. “Will he realize his?”
Vesper shook her head at her father’s sense of justice. It made her realize that, perhaps, he truly hadn’t understood the depth of his betrayal or how, as he put it, he became a man he did not like. She was starting to think that her father had a twisted sense of right and wrong in general.
“You have come to me asking for my forgiveness,” she said, pausing before they could enter the great hall.
“If you truly want it, then forgive Val for doing his duty and ending the terror of a murderer. I do not care if he was my brother or not. Val did the right thing when you would not. If you do not see that, then I do not believe you are sincere in wanting my forgiveness. I think you are being selective in this soul purging you seem to be doing.”
McCloud wouldn’t look at her, wiping at his frozen nose with the back of his hand. After a moment, he lifted his gaze. There was something warm twinkling in the depths. “Is that what growing up has done for you?” he asked. “Has it truly made you wiser than your father?”
Vesper struggled not to smile. “I have been wiser than you since I was born.”
“Is that so?”
“It is. Only you did not notice.”
“I am noticing now.”
“Swear it?”
“I do.”
That seemed like a step in the right direction as far as Vesper was concerned.
The mood was lighter and she felt better about the situation in general.
As she led her father into the hall for a much needed meal, she failed to see a group of riders bearing the blue and white of Canterbury enter the gates of Eynsford.
Eynsford was on the road between Canterbury and London, depending on which road one took, but the castle was situated to the west of Rochester and just south of the Dartford crossing, a major ferry crossing across the River Thames that led directly into London on the other side.
Because of that, Eynsford had its share of traffic, of travelers passing through, and it was a very busy place in that regard.
A group of allied soldiers was nothing new in the sights of Eynsford Castle.
Which is why Vesper paid no attention. Even if she had seen them, she wouldn’t have given them a second thought.
She sat with her father in the great hall of Eynsford, another wooden building with a steeply pitched thatched roof, and watched him wolf down bread, cheese, and a type of stew called engoule, which was made with barley, milk, and beef broth.
McCloud had three bowls of it before he even started to slow down, taking the time to emit a very large burp before continuing with his meal at a more leisurely pace.
All the while, Vesper sat across the table from him, letting him eat and not interrupting him with dialogue.
In truth, she needed time to think on their conversation and decide if she truly wanted to give the man another chance in her life.
She was coming to think that it would be better if she did because she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life regretting her coldness towards her father.
He was making a great effort so perhaps she should, too.
As Vesper continued to watch him eat, the door to the hall opened and the four soldiers bearing blue and white tunics spilled forth. Desmond was right behind them.
“Sit,” Desmond instructed the soldiers, pointing to seating far down the table from Vesper and her father. “I will have food and drink brought to you.”
The soldiers moved to claim their seats but one of them, spying the lovely Lady Vesper, decided not to sit so far down the table.
When Desmond left the hall, he managed to scoot in her direction, eyeing McCloud as he did.
Not knowing if the man was her husband, father, or no one at all, he proceeded carefully.
“Greetings” he said to both of them, although his focus was on Vesper. “It is a very fine day today, even with the snow. It looks as if you have had a great deal here.”
Vesper didn’t want to strike up a conversation with a strange soldier, bold as he was. As she deliberately looked away, McCloud spoke with his mouth full.
“Be on your way,” he grumbled. “Our conversation is private.”
The soldier seemed contrite, but only slightly. He stopped his advance and backed off. “Of course it is,” he said as if to beg pardon. “I did not mean to interrupt anything. I was simply being friendly. My comrades and I have traveled a long way today, bearing important messages for all of London.”
Vesper still wasn’t looking at him but McCloud turned to him.
“If that is true, then you had better do your duty and keep your mouth shut until you are with the man you are supposed to deliver the message to,” he said.
“What fool would spout off about the important messages he is carrying to people he does not even know?”
The soldier, who had been very friendly and bordering on jovial, lost his humor.
“Because this is a message that the entire country will want to hear,” he said, a hint of threat in his tone.
“The Archbishop of Canterbury was murdered by men sent by Henry. We bear this news to take to the sheriffs to the north.”
McCloud was already looking at the man but Vesper turned to him, shocked by what she had heard. “Murdered?” she gasped before she could stop herself. “When?”
The soldier turned to her, the lovely woman with the high cheekbones and the pale eyes.
“A week ago, my lady,” he said, pleased that she was being friendly.
He wanted to show her how important he was and how much he knew about this terrible deed so he began running off at the mouth.
“The archbishop was ambushed by at least six knights and several soldiers, men loyal to the king.”
It was an astonishing bit of news. “Sweet Jesù,” she said, stunned. “They killed him?”
“Assassinated him, my lady.”
“And it was Henry’s men for certain?”
The soldier lifted an eyebrow. “The men bore the colors of de Nerra, who is Henry’s justice in Hampshire,” he said, leaning towards Vesper and McCloud as if he was divulging deep and dark information.
“Do you know who I mean? Surely you have heard of the man here at Eynsford. It is very close to Hampshire. Lord Eynsford must have had dealings with him.”
Vesper suddenly couldn’t breathe. De Nerra! The room started to sway and she grabbed hold of the table as if it would prevent her from slipping away. Everything was spinning around her as she struggled to right herself.
“De Nerra?” she repeated, her voice sounding oddly strangled. “How… how is that possible?”