An Honourable Estate Read Online Free PDF Page A

cups and platters she
expressed surprise that Mabel did not know her husband had returned to Haigh
late the previous night.
    “Sir William knocked on everyone’s door,” she told
Mabel.  “He wanted men who would ride with him...”  The girl paused
and watched Mabel’s face.  “Did you not know?” she asked curiously.
    “I did not know he had returned so late.  He must not
have wanted to waken me,” she replied, as if her husband’s actions had been the
most natural thing in the world.  But she saw the shadow of doubt cross
Edith’s face, doubt and a slight fear.
    “My father went with him,” she said.  “What is it all
about, my lady?” she asked as she pushed a stray wisp of her dark hair back
under her cap.
    “Oh... something to do with the sheep I think,” replied
Mabel, knowing it was a poor lie even as it passed her lips.  Edith met
her eyes momentarily then nodded briefly.  Mabel could see that the girl
was as puzzled and worried as she was herself.  “I think we need to brew
more ale... if there is enough grain...” said Mabel, to fill the awkward
silence.
    “My lady?  What will happen at Michaelmas when we have
to pay our rent?  What will happen to those who don’t have enough?”
    Mabel looked again at the emaciated girl.  At eighteen
years old her young face was etched with tiredness, hunger and worry.  She
should have been laughing and dancing and dreaming of love and a young husband,
thought Mabel, not agonizing about demands for grain that her family simply
could not supply. 
    “I don’t know,” replied Mabel honestly.   “But I’m
sure that Sir William will not punish anyone who really cannot pay,” she
reassured her, deciding that she must discover for herself just how much they
could realistically expect to take from their tenants that quarter.
     
    Darkness
had fallen.  Mabel had seen the children to their beds, had checked the
door and the fires and was reluctantly going to the bedchamber herself when she
heard the gentle tapping.
    “Who’s there?” she called as she stood with her candle in one
hand and the other on the heavy wooden beam that secured the outer door at
night.  Her heartbeat was racing as a hundred and one possibilities ran
through her mind.  But Calab came wagging his tail and whining and, she
thought, he would surely have barked had he scented a stranger.
    “It’s me.”  
    At her husband’s hushed voice Mabel put down the candle and
pulled up the beam, cursing it as it squealed against the door and she heard
Amelia cough in the bedchamber.  Opening the door just wide enough for
William to slip through she watched as he quickly secured it behind him. 
He was breathing hard and when she raised the candle she could see his face
looked ashen.
    “What has happened?” she asked, half worried and half angry
that he had not listened to her advice and had gone off with Adam
Banastre.  William hesitated, his eyes flickering over hers yet not able
to meet her gaze.  Mabel knew that it was something he didn’t want to tell
her.  “Well?” she asked again.
    “Some of Adam’s men got out of control.  They have
killed Henry Bury,” he admitted and as he looked down at his hands Mabel saw
they were stained with what looked like blood.
    “Dear God!” she exclaimed.  “I knew no good would come
of this.  Were you involved?”
    “Of course not!”  He looked down at his hands
again.  “Adam and I arrived after it happened.  We moved the body
inside... I must wash them,” he said reaching for the candle.  Mabel
followed him into the kitchen where he poured a basin of water from the large
stone pitcher on the floor and plunged his hands into the cold water, rubbing
them together as if he could wash away not only the blood but the memory of
what had happened.  “The men are volatile,” he began, trying to explain to
her.  “It isn’t just the hunger.  They’ve all spent so long fighting
the Scots that they miss the