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Authors: April Taylor
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that neither woman saw it. What the linen would tell him he did not know, but he determined to do all he could to ensure that Edith was indeed with God. This physical evidence from her earthly vessel might aid contact with her spirit.
“I prithee pardon my wrath, Goodwife. It seems so plain to me that Edith is innocent of the crime of self-murder that I am amazed others are unable to see it. Would you like me to visit the priest and arrange for Edith’s burial?”
Tears fell unheeded down her cheeks.
“Bless you, sir, for believing in my girl. I am certain that he will take more note of you than of a feeble old woman.”
“In that case, consider it done. I must now take my leave of you both. It is time Edith was given her rights.”
* * *
Luke had encountered the priest on several occasions and although dislike was not a common emotion with him, that was the only word to describe his feeling toward this man. A convert from Catholicism, Gerard Frayner used his recovery from the pox and his pitted face as proof that God smiled on the righteous. He was mindful enough to cloak the bombastic tyranny with which he ruled his flock in pious hypocrisy. Luke would have waged thirty pieces of silver that, should Mary Tudor ever succeed to the throne, this one would recant quicker than anyone could say
Deo Gratias
.
One of the tenets of the new religion upon which the King had insisted was that the churches should be made plainer and the services comprehensible to all. What a pity that this had not been extended to include the living quarters of the priests. Frayner’s house was ample for the largest of families. He lived alone, looked after by a cook and two servants, in a degree of comfort and opulence denied to most of his parishioners. Luke thanked Providence that he had put a shimmer spell on Joss. Frayner was just the kind of bully who would kick out at any creature he perceived to be weaker than himself.
“Master Apothecary, what brings you to my house?” Frayner asked, with a chilly smile.
“The burial rites for Edith Brook.”
The smile disappeared. “I will have no suicides in my graveyard.”
Luke planted his feet more firmly on the floor.
“The maid is innocent of such a crime and I can prove it. I would know who told you this calumny?”
“A source I would trust sooner than the word of a miserable apothecary. Suicide in that manner was a method commonly used by the heathen Romans. Do not think I am ignorant.”
Luke bowed, although his fists clenched and for one fleeting moment he longed to smash them into the man’s sneering face. The touch of Joss’s nose on his closed fingers brought him to his senses.
“I am sorry you doubt the veracity of my word. The child was in service with the Queen. You therefore compel me to bring this matter before Her Grace’s physician. No doubt you will accept his opinion where you refuse to admit mine?” He concentrated on keeping his voice light and unconcerned.
Frayner’s face turned a mottled red and all color fled from it. He forced a smile.
“I did not mean to belittle you, Master Ballard. I was informed that the girl had killed herself.”
“By whom?”
“I cannot recall. However, if you are willing to show me your proof and if I accept it, then I will conduct the girl’s burial and see that her body receives those rites as set down by the Church.”
Luke bowed again, more to hide the smile that rose unbidden to his lips than to show respect for the creature in front of him. It was not his habit to be so insistent, but if poor little Edith could be laid in holy ground, her soul had a better chance of salvation and might not be, as Luke feared, hovering twixt this world and the next.
“In that case, come with me now, sir. We can settle the matter within the hour.”
It was with grudging reluctance that Frayner admitted defeat. His initial argument was that Edith had fallen forward onto the edge of the tub causing the bruise on her forehead.
“I prithee pardon my wrath, Goodwife. It seems so plain to me that Edith is innocent of the crime of self-murder that I am amazed others are unable to see it. Would you like me to visit the priest and arrange for Edith’s burial?”
Tears fell unheeded down her cheeks.
“Bless you, sir, for believing in my girl. I am certain that he will take more note of you than of a feeble old woman.”
“In that case, consider it done. I must now take my leave of you both. It is time Edith was given her rights.”
* * *
Luke had encountered the priest on several occasions and although dislike was not a common emotion with him, that was the only word to describe his feeling toward this man. A convert from Catholicism, Gerard Frayner used his recovery from the pox and his pitted face as proof that God smiled on the righteous. He was mindful enough to cloak the bombastic tyranny with which he ruled his flock in pious hypocrisy. Luke would have waged thirty pieces of silver that, should Mary Tudor ever succeed to the throne, this one would recant quicker than anyone could say
Deo Gratias
.
One of the tenets of the new religion upon which the King had insisted was that the churches should be made plainer and the services comprehensible to all. What a pity that this had not been extended to include the living quarters of the priests. Frayner’s house was ample for the largest of families. He lived alone, looked after by a cook and two servants, in a degree of comfort and opulence denied to most of his parishioners. Luke thanked Providence that he had put a shimmer spell on Joss. Frayner was just the kind of bully who would kick out at any creature he perceived to be weaker than himself.
“Master Apothecary, what brings you to my house?” Frayner asked, with a chilly smile.
“The burial rites for Edith Brook.”
The smile disappeared. “I will have no suicides in my graveyard.”
Luke planted his feet more firmly on the floor.
“The maid is innocent of such a crime and I can prove it. I would know who told you this calumny?”
“A source I would trust sooner than the word of a miserable apothecary. Suicide in that manner was a method commonly used by the heathen Romans. Do not think I am ignorant.”
Luke bowed, although his fists clenched and for one fleeting moment he longed to smash them into the man’s sneering face. The touch of Joss’s nose on his closed fingers brought him to his senses.
“I am sorry you doubt the veracity of my word. The child was in service with the Queen. You therefore compel me to bring this matter before Her Grace’s physician. No doubt you will accept his opinion where you refuse to admit mine?” He concentrated on keeping his voice light and unconcerned.
Frayner’s face turned a mottled red and all color fled from it. He forced a smile.
“I did not mean to belittle you, Master Ballard. I was informed that the girl had killed herself.”
“By whom?”
“I cannot recall. However, if you are willing to show me your proof and if I accept it, then I will conduct the girl’s burial and see that her body receives those rites as set down by the Church.”
Luke bowed again, more to hide the smile that rose unbidden to his lips than to show respect for the creature in front of him. It was not his habit to be so insistent, but if poor little Edith could be laid in holy ground, her soul had a better chance of salvation and might not be, as Luke feared, hovering twixt this world and the next.
“In that case, come with me now, sir. We can settle the matter within the hour.”
It was with grudging reluctance that Frayner admitted defeat. His initial argument was that Edith had fallen forward onto the edge of the tub causing the bruise on her forehead.
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