The Weaver's Inheritance

The Weaver's Inheritance Read Free

Book: The Weaver's Inheritance Read Free
Author: Kate Sedley
Tags: Fiction, General, Historical, Mystery & Detective, _MARKED
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eyebrows.
    I glared back at her, but then my anger evaporated. I had no real objection to being on the road, for I was already growing restless, and I reflected that there was no way in which she could make me fall in love, or even contract a marriage of convenience with her cousin. She had no idea that I was already armoured against such a possibility, bewitched by a pair of periwinkle-blue eyes and hair the colour of ripe corn. And who was to say that Adela Juett would wish to have me for a husband even if I were to offer for her?
    ‘If that’s what you want, Mother,’ I answered pleasantly, ‘of course I’ll oblige you.’ I saw her expression sharpen from triumph to suspicion. ‘I’ll set out as soon as Christmas is over.’
    *   *   *
    The mystery in which I was to become embroiled during the next few months, unlike some of my previous adventures, had no connection with the greater happenings unfolding in the country at large; but I was to become a spectator of these events simply because I chanced to be in certain places at particular times. The first occasion was at Tewkesbury sometime around the middle of January, 1477.
    I had set out from Bristol as soon as Christmas was done, arriving in Hereford just over a week later and making my way to the inn where Adela Juett lived and worked. Once my mission was explained, she seemed perfectly willing to accompany me, shrugging off the hardships which a walk of so many miles would entail, especially with a young child to fend for.
    ‘We can take it in turns to carry him,’ she said. ‘I’m strong and used to his weight. Don’t think that I shall expect you to be the only packhorse. And no doubt we shall be offered a ride by any carters we happen to meet on the road.’
    She was as good as her word, shouldering the burden of young Nicholas as often as I would allow, and coming close to losing her temper on several occasions when I refused to let her take him from me. Whenever we heard the rumble of a cart in the distance, she would urge me into the middle of the track where we could clearly be seen by the driver; and Hereford had hardly been left behind before we were perched somewhat uncomfortably on top of a wagonload of turnips, the first of many similar journeys. The boy’s presence also ensured us shelter at any cottage along our route where there was no nearby inn or ale-house to offer accommodation, and some of the goodwives were reluctant to accept recompense for their trouble.
    Nicholas Juett was a sweet, sunny-natured child with an endearing smile and the huge, velvety-brown eyes of his mother. He also had Adela’s dark wavy hair and soft red lips, which made him the immediate target of almost every female who encountered him; but he suffered the shower of kisses rained upon him with a commendable lack of grievance. In this he again resembled Adela, for she spoke little and never complained; and on an afternoon of lowering skies and gathering cloud, when a light flurry of snow had already presaged the threat of colder weather, we had been on foot for several long and wearisome miles, but still she remained resolutely cheerful.
    It was getting dark as we approached Tewkesbury. For the past half-hour, I had been aware of more traffic on the road than might normally have been expected at that season of the year, both coming from and going towards the town. There were a surprising number of men-at-arms, and amongst the badges which had caught my eye were the Black Bull of Clarence, the White Boar and Red Bull of my lord of Gloucester, the Gold Lion of the King’s brother-in-law, the Duke of Suffolk, and the White Rose and Sun in Splendour of King Edward himself. Something was afoot in Tewkesbury and curiosity drove me forward, quickening my step in spite of the weight of young Nicholas Juett, who lay sound asleep in my arms.
    ‘Make for the nearest inn,’ I advised my companion. ‘We’re all tired and need rest.’
    It had been my original

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