Read Online A Pawn for a Queen: An Ursula Blanchard Mystery at Queen Elizabeth I's (Ursula Blanchard Mystery at Queen Elizabeth I's Court) by Fiona Buckley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Fiona Buckley
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somberly. “But as yet, it hasn’t come to pass. So let us talk of something else.”
I obliged by asking about Edward, hoping against hope that he might be somewhere on the premises, but I was disappointed. He was not.
“Oh yes, he’s been here,” Master Thursby said. “But . . .”
“I take it he’s gone on to Edinburgh,” I said heavily. “I know that he meant to. When did he leave?”
“The day before yesterday, after dinner. He’ll likely be there by now. He didn’t even spend a night here, for all we invited him,” Mistress Thursby said. Silently, I cursed. “He seemed so impatient to finish his journey,” said my hostess. “He spoke of you once,you know—when he was here last summer. Not that he said much, except that it was you that went with his wife’s guardian to bring his bride out of France. But we knew he had a cousin Ursula.”
It had never occurred to me that Edward might have talked about me. I thanked providence he hadn’t said more. According to Uncle Herbert, he knew that it was I who had got my uncle, Edward’s father, clapped into the Tower. I certainly didn’t want any of Edward’s friends to know that. Perhaps the talkative Thursbys had interrupted him too soon! (The Bycrofts were probably too busy praying to listen, anyhow.)
“I need to find him as soon as I can,” I said. They regarded me with expectant interest and I added primly: “It concerns his family at home—it is a private thing, which I’m not at liberty to discuss—but it really is serious. You gave me a charming bedchamber in which to change my dress and I suspect that you would be happy for me to stay here overnight . . .”
“Indeed, we expect you to stay!” Euphemia exclaimed.
I shook my head. “I think we should travel on after dinner and try again to catch Edward up. We could cover a few more miles before nightfall. Can you advise us about the route and where we can stay overnight? What inns are there along the way?”
The Thursbys at once began to shake with mirth. The brief distress over their fear of losing their home had passed and now they resembled nothing so much as a pair of merry gnomes. I looked at them in astonishment.
“You’re almost into Scotland,” said MistressThursby, “and there are no hostelries in Scotland. Drinking places, yes, but not places to stay.”
“There are traditions of hospitality, though,” said her husband. “Nobles stay in each other’s castles and houses; ordinary folk look for lodgings in cottages and farmhouses and so on. There are a couple of places along the way where you’ll get beds for the night and supper, of a simple kind, and I can give you some addresses in Edinburgh where you can find lodgings. I know where Edward was probably going to stay; I can tell you that as well.”
“I’d be grateful,” I said, and added politely: “You know Scotland well?”
Once more, their cheerful countenances clouded. “Oh yes,” said Mistress Thursby, “we have relatives there, as I said. More cousins. We share Scottish forebears, John and I.”
I must have looked inquiring, for Master Thursby said: “We used to visit them at times, but the last such time was a sad business for us. We never dreamt . . .”
“We’re not so very young,” said Euphemia, “and our children are grown. Our son is wed and lives on the farm that was his wife’s dower—maybe thirty miles from here. But our daughter, our dearest Jane . . .”
“We took her with us to visit our cousins, nearly four years ago it was,” said Master Thursby. “Our cousins are well-to-do people in Edinburgh, merchants in cloth and spices and well acquainted with all the fine folk. They got us invitations to a banquet given by a noble who had a castle to the west of Stirling, the town at the head of the Firth. We rode out and stayed a night there, and while we were there,one of our host’s sons fell in love with our daughter.”
“She was sixteen,” said Euphemia in a trembling
I obliged by asking about Edward, hoping against hope that he might be somewhere on the premises, but I was disappointed. He was not.
“Oh yes, he’s been here,” Master Thursby said. “But . . .”
“I take it he’s gone on to Edinburgh,” I said heavily. “I know that he meant to. When did he leave?”
“The day before yesterday, after dinner. He’ll likely be there by now. He didn’t even spend a night here, for all we invited him,” Mistress Thursby said. Silently, I cursed. “He seemed so impatient to finish his journey,” said my hostess. “He spoke of you once,you know—when he was here last summer. Not that he said much, except that it was you that went with his wife’s guardian to bring his bride out of France. But we knew he had a cousin Ursula.”
It had never occurred to me that Edward might have talked about me. I thanked providence he hadn’t said more. According to Uncle Herbert, he knew that it was I who had got my uncle, Edward’s father, clapped into the Tower. I certainly didn’t want any of Edward’s friends to know that. Perhaps the talkative Thursbys had interrupted him too soon! (The Bycrofts were probably too busy praying to listen, anyhow.)
“I need to find him as soon as I can,” I said. They regarded me with expectant interest and I added primly: “It concerns his family at home—it is a private thing, which I’m not at liberty to discuss—but it really is serious. You gave me a charming bedchamber in which to change my dress and I suspect that you would be happy for me to stay here overnight . . .”
“Indeed, we expect you to stay!” Euphemia exclaimed.
I shook my head. “I think we should travel on after dinner and try again to catch Edward up. We could cover a few more miles before nightfall. Can you advise us about the route and where we can stay overnight? What inns are there along the way?”
The Thursbys at once began to shake with mirth. The brief distress over their fear of losing their home had passed and now they resembled nothing so much as a pair of merry gnomes. I looked at them in astonishment.
“You’re almost into Scotland,” said MistressThursby, “and there are no hostelries in Scotland. Drinking places, yes, but not places to stay.”
“There are traditions of hospitality, though,” said her husband. “Nobles stay in each other’s castles and houses; ordinary folk look for lodgings in cottages and farmhouses and so on. There are a couple of places along the way where you’ll get beds for the night and supper, of a simple kind, and I can give you some addresses in Edinburgh where you can find lodgings. I know where Edward was probably going to stay; I can tell you that as well.”
“I’d be grateful,” I said, and added politely: “You know Scotland well?”
Once more, their cheerful countenances clouded. “Oh yes,” said Mistress Thursby, “we have relatives there, as I said. More cousins. We share Scottish forebears, John and I.”
I must have looked inquiring, for Master Thursby said: “We used to visit them at times, but the last such time was a sad business for us. We never dreamt . . .”
“We’re not so very young,” said Euphemia, “and our children are grown. Our son is wed and lives on the farm that was his wife’s dower—maybe thirty miles from here. But our daughter, our dearest Jane . . .”
“We took her with us to visit our cousins, nearly four years ago it was,” said Master Thursby. “Our cousins are well-to-do people in Edinburgh, merchants in cloth and spices and well acquainted with all the fine folk. They got us invitations to a banquet given by a noble who had a castle to the west of Stirling, the town at the head of the Firth. We rode out and stayed a night there, and while we were there,one of our host’s sons fell in love with our daughter.”
“She was sixteen,” said Euphemia in a trembling
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