‘He seems yet too sleepy to care about aught but snuggling, stories, and comforting food and drink. And your Gwen took care to appear sunny and full of song until her brother began to snore and Marian withdrew. Then she whispered a tale of a boy turned woman appearing in the minster as two men died without, in the snow. Her eyes grew huge in the telling, how Brother Michaelo brought the shape-shifter here and she transformed once more, this time into an angel, and now this morning the Angel Gabriel had come for her, but Alisoun did not understand and shot him so that he could not fly.’
Such an elaborate tale. How had her daughter heard so much? When Rose burst into the street door to warn them of a man standing in the garden, Lucie had drawn her out of the kitchen so that the children would not hear. Had Gwen listened at the door? Crestfallen, Lucie hesitated at the door to the apothecary workroom. ‘Should I go back to her?’
‘You should, but with this.’ Bess bustled past her through the door, then halted, looking around with dismay. ‘Where— I set her in here when I heard Alisoun challenging the intruder. Did I shut the door? Dear heaven.’ She hurried through the workroom into the shop, where she stopped and sighed, hand to heart. ‘There she is.’
‘The butcher’s daughter?’ Lucie asked, confused.
Jasper was crouched down to little Mair, who giggled as a kitten she cradled in her arms twisted her head to see who had entered the room, stretching out a paw to Lucie as if in greeting.
‘I turned around and she was in the workroom doorway, batting at the beads,’ said Jasper. Instead of a door, the rooms were separated by strings of beads.
‘I set her back there and forgot.’ Bess bent to scoop her up. ‘Tut now, Mair,’ she said as the little girl screwed up her face and began to cry. ‘She is a gift for the apothecary’s children.’
‘You brought us a kitten?’ Lucie asked. ‘Why?’ In faith, her heart was already melting at the way the kitten touched Jasper’s face and purred. She reminded her of Melisende, the cat who had comforted her during her first husband’s long illness. Gray, brown, white, she was a little beauty.
‘She rushed into the kitchen this morning when I opened the door and would not be shooed away. I cannot have animals underfoot in our busy kitchen, and certainly not in the bedchambers. Men in their cups are not to be trusted with anything. I thought your little ones would like her. She seems a gentle thing, talkative and silly. She will make Gwen laugh.’ Bess searched Lucie’s face.
‘She will. Bless you, Bess.’ Lucie hugged her friend. ‘Come with me to present her to the children?’
‘I have been out too long as it is.’ Bess hugged her back and whispered, ‘Find a new situation for Marian, I pray you.’
‘We mean to take her to St Clement’s. I will explain another time.’
‘Good.’ Bess hurried out through the workshop.
‘You will keep her, Ma?’ Jasper asked.
‘Do you approve?’
‘We’ve needed a cat ever since Crowder died.’ Ambrose and Martin had entrusted the ginger cat to Jasper when they fled York years earlier. Jasper had been devastated to wake one morning to find the cat lifeless beside him, old age having claimed him after a long, pampered life. He stood with shoulders slumped, remembering.
‘Shall I see to the shop and you can take her to them?’ Lucie asked.
‘Could I?’
‘Be off with you. Eat something as well. You might ask Alisoun to invite Marian to see the kitten. She has had a difficult day.’
‘I heard a ruckus in the garden.’
Telling him briefly what had happened, Lucie smiled to see the admiration in Jasper’s eyes. ‘There is much more to tell. About Marian. We know her story. She can be trusted.’
‘I am glad of that.’
‘Now go!’ Lucie turned to greet a customer.
Four customers served, and she was helping the last in line, Cass, a young midwife, explaining the differences between two powders for soothing toothaches, when the woman glanced up and said, ‘Your apprentice needs to speak with you. See to him. I am in no hurry.’ The woman’s eyes were on Jasper, not Lucie, as she smiled.
He was a handsome young man. ‘I will be but a moment,’ said Lucie, slipping through the beaded curtain, her amusement turning to alarm as she saw Jasper’s distress. ‘What is it? One of the children?’
‘Marian is gone.’
‘What?’
He explained that while he was introducing the children to the kitten, whom Gwen immediately named Ariel, Alisoun had gone to invite Marian, as Lucie had suggested. She was not there. Nor were her cloak and boots.
Lucie closed her eyes, trying to think where to search. Her tale told, why would Marian flee? What did she fear now? ‘I must talk to Bess. She might have noticed something.’
‘I will see to Mistress Cass.’
‘I am sorry you had so little time. Did you eat?’
‘Go!’
She found Bess plumping cushions in the single guest room. ‘I see to them myself for lodgers with fat purses. Cannot be— What is it? Did the kitten escape?’
‘No, our houseguest. Can you recall anything about the moment she chose to leave you alone with the children?’
‘She had completed the stitchwork you had given her, and I thought that was why she wished to lie down. I did not think to attend her. And the children …’
‘You could not know, Bess.’
‘What were we about? Ah, it was Hugh. He talked about a drum George Hempe permitted him to beat at his house. How he hoped to go again. Marian asked where the bailiff lived and Hugh was so proud to know. A few houses afore Christchurch, he said. Before that, we were speaking of Brother Michaelo. Gwen said that he wrote a most beautiful script,
