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Read Online [Roger the Chapman 06] - The Wicked Winter by Kate Sedley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kate Sedley
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stout body, whose shiny red face and greasy apron proclaimed her to be the cook, was standing, arms akimbo, confronting a younger, slenderer woman dressed in an unadorned grey woollen gown and a plain linen hood, yet whose general demeanour suggested that she was not one of the servants. As I made my appearance, the latter stamped a foot in frustration.
'When my sister-in-law is absent, you should take your orders from me,' she cried. 'I am next in command!'
'You! You're a nobody!' the cook retorted indignantly. 'A nothing! You're here on sufferance, through the master's bounty! I'm not obliged to do anything you tell me! Isn't that so, Mistress Talke?'
Thus appealed to, a third woman, probably as old as the cook but taller and of a sparer build, wearing a large bunch of household keys at her waist, raised her own voice to make herself heard above the others'.
'You're both wrong. I am the housekeeper and I am in charge when my lady is not here.' Her handsome, sallow-skinned features creased into an expression of contempt. 'And at every other time,' she added; a remark which her companions, now united against her, were too angry to heed.
'No one's in charge in my kitchen except me!' proclaimed the cook, picking up and brandishing a spoon.
The younger woman exclaimed, 'You're not family, Phillipa Talke, much as we know you'd like to be!'
'And what does that mean, my fine madam?' the housekeeper demanded, rounding on her furiously. Without however waiting for a reply, she continued, 'Martha Grindcobb is right. You have no place here but as a dependant of my lady. It would be as well if you remembered that.' The younger woman let out a high-pitched scream and thumped the kitchen table, making all the pots and pans standing on it rattle.
'My husband is my lady's brother! Perhaps it would also be as well if you remembered that!'
I felt Brother Simeon, who had followed me into the kitchen and was now pressed close against my shoulder, flinch at the sudden crescendo of noise. The next moment he pushed me aside and, striding forward, quelled the cacophony with a single word.
'Silence!'
He had not raised his voice, but his naturally penetrating tone commanded their immediate attention. All three women turned slowly in his direction, their quarrel momentarily forgotten, in mutual astonishment. The housekeeper's mouth flew open to demand an explanation of this intrusion, but when she saw the friar's habit and tonsured head her protestation faltered. The younger woman, however, she whom I understood to be the sister-by-marriage of Lady Cederwell, was not so reticent.
'And who might you be, Brother?'
'I am Friar Simeon,' he announced majestically, drawing himself up to his impressive height, the blue eyes flashing with the promise of hellfire and brimstone for anyone who was foolhardy enough to challenge his authority. 'I have been sent for by Lady Cederwell. Where is she?'
The housekeeper, recovering her nerve a little, said, 'My lady's in her private chapel in the tower, fasting and praying, where she has been since daybreak.' Her glance went past the friar to me. 'Who is this you've brought with you?' I took my pack from my back, dropping it on to the kitchen table, and spoke cheerfully in an attempt to lighten the general atmosphere.
'Oh, I'm nothing to do with Brother Simeon. We met by chance on the road and just happened to arrive together. I'm a chapman, trying to make some extra money in this bleak mid-winter.'
A little kitchen-maid, whom I had not previously noticed, crept from the comer where she had been quietly observing the antics of her elders, her eyes round with anticipation of possible, unlooked-for delights.
'Got any pretty ribbons, Chapman?' she asked in a husky whisper.
'I may have one or two,' I answered, 'that will suit a pretty girl like you.'
She giggled, then self-consciously put up a hand to touch her face which was afflicted with the weeping pustules of youth.
'Go on with you!' She
'When my sister-in-law is absent, you should take your orders from me,' she cried. 'I am next in command!'
'You! You're a nobody!' the cook retorted indignantly. 'A nothing! You're here on sufferance, through the master's bounty! I'm not obliged to do anything you tell me! Isn't that so, Mistress Talke?'
Thus appealed to, a third woman, probably as old as the cook but taller and of a sparer build, wearing a large bunch of household keys at her waist, raised her own voice to make herself heard above the others'.
'You're both wrong. I am the housekeeper and I am in charge when my lady is not here.' Her handsome, sallow-skinned features creased into an expression of contempt. 'And at every other time,' she added; a remark which her companions, now united against her, were too angry to heed.
'No one's in charge in my kitchen except me!' proclaimed the cook, picking up and brandishing a spoon.
The younger woman exclaimed, 'You're not family, Phillipa Talke, much as we know you'd like to be!'
'And what does that mean, my fine madam?' the housekeeper demanded, rounding on her furiously. Without however waiting for a reply, she continued, 'Martha Grindcobb is right. You have no place here but as a dependant of my lady. It would be as well if you remembered that.' The younger woman let out a high-pitched scream and thumped the kitchen table, making all the pots and pans standing on it rattle.
'My husband is my lady's brother! Perhaps it would also be as well if you remembered that!'
I felt Brother Simeon, who had followed me into the kitchen and was now pressed close against my shoulder, flinch at the sudden crescendo of noise. The next moment he pushed me aside and, striding forward, quelled the cacophony with a single word.
'Silence!'
He had not raised his voice, but his naturally penetrating tone commanded their immediate attention. All three women turned slowly in his direction, their quarrel momentarily forgotten, in mutual astonishment. The housekeeper's mouth flew open to demand an explanation of this intrusion, but when she saw the friar's habit and tonsured head her protestation faltered. The younger woman, however, she whom I understood to be the sister-by-marriage of Lady Cederwell, was not so reticent.
'And who might you be, Brother?'
'I am Friar Simeon,' he announced majestically, drawing himself up to his impressive height, the blue eyes flashing with the promise of hellfire and brimstone for anyone who was foolhardy enough to challenge his authority. 'I have been sent for by Lady Cederwell. Where is she?'
The housekeeper, recovering her nerve a little, said, 'My lady's in her private chapel in the tower, fasting and praying, where she has been since daybreak.' Her glance went past the friar to me. 'Who is this you've brought with you?' I took my pack from my back, dropping it on to the kitchen table, and spoke cheerfully in an attempt to lighten the general atmosphere.
'Oh, I'm nothing to do with Brother Simeon. We met by chance on the road and just happened to arrive together. I'm a chapman, trying to make some extra money in this bleak mid-winter.'
A little kitchen-maid, whom I had not previously noticed, crept from the comer where she had been quietly observing the antics of her elders, her eyes round with anticipation of possible, unlooked-for delights.
'Got any pretty ribbons, Chapman?' she asked in a husky whisper.
'I may have one or two,' I answered, 'that will suit a pretty girl like you.'
She giggled, then self-consciously put up a hand to touch her face which was afflicted with the weeping pustules of youth.
'Go on with you!' She
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