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

because it was unoccupied and convenient. As much as she wanted to deny the possibility, Catherine feared that the dead man had something to do with
her father, because of his apostasy. Did she really think Hubert could kill to protect his secret?
    For that matter, Edgar wondered, did he?
    “Catherine?” he asked.
    “Not now,” she answered. “Please.”
    She took his hand in both her own.
    “Please,” she repeated.
    He smiled at her and squeezed her fingers in understanding.
    “Very well,” he said. “We have more than enough to do now.”
    “That we do.” Catherine took a deep breath. “Willa, may we change here? I don’t want to appear before the master of the Temple with cobwebs in my hair and gore from one of his men on my robes.”
    Willa shook her head. “Only you would have such a dilemma, Mistress,” she said. “I already miss life in your household. It’s so much duller being married.”
    Edgar and Catherine exchanged glances. Neither one of them would have ever thought their married life dull.
     
    Accordingly they presented themselves at the gate of the Temple preceptory outside Paris that afternoon just as the bells were ringing for Nones. They had come on horseback to indicate they weren’t commoners or beggars, but Catherine was nervous all the same. She had resolved to let Edgar speak for them both. When she told him that he only nodded, his expression showing his disbelief. He knew well how hard it was for Catherine to hold her tongue. This only strengthened her determination to behave for once as a proper matron.
    The gate was opened by an old man in the black tunic of a sergeant. His white hair hung in strands around his dark, weather-beaten face. Edgar’s eyes widened as he realized that the man had only one arm.
    “I lost this at the end of a Saracen sword, fighting for the faith,” the gatekeeper said. “Gape if you want. I’m proud that I gave it for Our Lord.”
    “It wasn’t that,” Edgar said. He held up his arm to show the man the emptiness at the end of it. “I only wish my loss had been in as good a cause.”
    Catherine wouldn’t let that stand.
    “You were trying to save a man’s life,” she started. “That’s every bit as noble as …”
    “Yes, carissima ,” Edgar interrupted. “But it has nothing to do with our mission. We need to speak with the commander here on a matter of grave importance.”
    “The commander’s at his prayers,” the gatekeeper told them. “And you couldn’t bother him in any case. He’s preparing to return to the Holy Land as soon as possible on the king’s business.”
    “Then the Marshal,” Edgar insisted. “Or the chaplain. We’ll wait until they’ve said the Office. Tell him that Edgar, son of the Lord of Wedderlie, wishes to speak with him.”
    He drew himself up and looked down on the sergeant with all the force of confidence coming from noble birth. Catherine watched him with admiration. Edgar hardly ever felt the need to play the lord, but when he did, he was to her mind, superb.
    The gatekeeper seemed to be impressed as well, though not daunted. After all, noble birth was one requirement for entry into the Knights of the Temple. He grudgingly showed them into the gatehouse and bid them sit and wait until the service was over and he could fetch someone.
    “He didn’t even ask what our business was,” Catherine commented, once the man had left.
    “It’s not his place to,” Edgar said. “I wouldn’t have told him if he had asked.”
    Catherine didn’t respond to that, even though the tone was chillingly like that of Edgar’s older brother, Duncan, who now held the lordship of their land in Scotland. She told herself that he must appear to the gatekeeper to be equal in rank to the knights. Otherwise, he might not let them in to see the Commander.
    It was sometime after the Office had ended that they heard the door to the gatehouse open. Catherine had grown bored and was dozing on Edgar’s shoulder. She sat up