The Widow's Tale (Sister Frevisse Medieval Mysteries Book 14) Read Free Page A

fish.”
    Cristiana felt Gerveys’ small twitch of contained laughter but she did not see the jest, nor did Laurence, who insisted, “With your lands added to mine—“
    “Which they will not be. I have two heirs.”
    Laurence dragged Edward’s tall-backed chair around and closer to Edward, sat down impatiently, and said, “That’s the point. As it stands, your lands and all will be split between them. What I’m trying to make you see is that they don’t have to be. Put Jane into a nunnery with the least dowry they’ll take, and let everything else go with Mary to whomever she marries.”
    “Meaning one of your sons,” Edward said.
    “Meaning Clement. Yes,” Laurence said, triumphant that Edward understood.
    Only Gerveys’ hand heavy on her shoulder and her trust in Edward kept Cristiana quiet at thought of bright and laughing Jane put into a nunnery and Mary given to Clement, that Laurence-faced lout.
    “No,” said Edward.
    Ignoring or not hearing the flat refusal in that, Laurence said, “If you think Mary would be better for the nunnery, well enough. It will be a few years longer before Jane is ready to bear but—“
    “No,” Edward said again. “Give over, Laurence. If nothing else, they’re cousins.”
    “A dispensation will take care of that. I’ll see to it. I’ll even pay for it.”
    “Neither Mary nor Jane are going to marry Clement or any other of your sons, Laurence. Let it go.”
    “Don’t be a fool, Ned,” Laurence snapped. “You’re going to die soon. What’s going to happen then, do you think?” Cristiana jammed a fist against her mouth to stop her outcry. Edward without wavering said, “What happens is that Cristiana will have keeping of our daughters. That’s settled in my will.”
    Laurence’s face darkened with displeasure. “Your will,” he scoffed. “You …”
    Before he could say more, Edward added, “Moreover, I’ve made Sir Gerveys overseer of my will.”
    “And I have my lord Richard, duke of York, to back me in it, if it comes to trouble,” Gerveys said.
    Laurence sent him a poisonous look. “Within these two months your duke of York will finally be gone to Ireland with bag, baggage, wife, and all his whelps, well out of everyone’s way. Not that his lordship is worth all that much these days anyway, he’s so far out of favor with the king.”
    “Meaning with Suffolk,” Gerveys returned. “Whose power can’t last forever.”
    “Meaning your York will not be coming back any time soon,” Laurence snapped and turned back to Edward.
    Gerveys’ fingers tightened into Cristiana’s shoulder but he made no answer. Laurence had only said what everyone, including York, well knew—that he had been given Ireland to govern for the sake of having him out of England and because he could not be sent back to France. He had governed too well there, in sorry comparison with the present mess Suffolk and his ally the duke of Somerset were making of it.
    Besides that, York was too royal-blooded, was arguably heir to the crown until such time as King Henry had a son and meanwhile openly no friend to Suffolk and the other court favorites around the king.
    None of which mattered here and now as Edward said, before Laurence could go on, “Laurence, you don’t need this marriage. You’re well off and comfortable. Forget—“
    “I’m talking more than only comfortable! I’m talking about making us strong enough to matter in things!”
    With laughter under his words, Edward said, “Somehow that doesn’t much interest me at present.”
    “It’s never much interested you,” Laurence complained. “But it does me. With the Helyngton lands joined again—“
    “No,” Edward said flatly.
    Laurence started to answer that.
    Edward cut him off with, “I’m not selling my daughters’ lives for the sake of your ambition, Laurence. You’re not likely to be anything more than one of the little men around the duke of Suffolk. With my lands or without them. And as it