Page 4 of Lord of Deception

Chapter Three

Why did Sir Thomas Kirlham always make Alys panic? Was it his considerable girth which, accentuated by the padded shoulders of his doublet, made him look like a great bear? Or was it his sheer lack of lightness—ink-black beard, beetling brows, black velvet doublet and hose… black frown.

“Sir, will you take some refreshment? Elderflower cordial? We have a few lemons.”

“Anon. Where is Mistress Aspinall?” He exuded impatience.

“In the gardens somewhere. Shall I send for her?”

“I can find her myself.”

Anxiety pricked Alys’ spine as she hurried along in Kirlham’s wake. A serving girl, Lettice, emerged from the kitchen as they passed, and froze. Alys caught her attention. “Elderflower, if you please. The best.”

Lettice nodded and vanished into the house, as Alys struggled to match Kirlham’s stride.

Then a giggle, low and soft, reached her ears. Her heart sank.

“Sir Thomas, I beg you will take a seat in the shade here, while I fetch Kate for you.” Alys ran in front of him, barring his path, then pointed at the sculpted stone bench beneath the platform. Leaving him to consider her offer, she hurried past him towards the giggles, then came to a halt, slack-jawed.

At the end of the yew walk, Kate and the gardener were clasping hands as he leaned down to kiss her pouting lips. Before Alys could warn them, she heard the heavy tread of Sir Thomas behind her. By the rood! She might not care a whit for Kate, but whatever sins her cousin committed would be reflected on her and the rest of the household. It was so humiliating.

What should she do? Cough loudly? Pretend to faint on Sir Thomas? A brief look at his granite expression decided her in favor of the cough.

The gardener looked up, then bowed, his long hair falling forward to hide his face.

“Mistress Aspinall!” Sir Thomas brushed Alys aside and bore down on Kate. The gardener held his ground, looking ready to protect his mistress from the angry intruder. Alys supposed she must admire him for that, as she would anyone not intimidated by Sir Thomas.

“Tom!” Kate cried in ringing tones, hurrying forward. “I hadn’t expected you so soon.”

She held out her hands.

Had she no shame? Alys took a deep breath, her mind racing. “Sir Thomas, be not disquieted. Kate and yon fellow are rehearsing a scene from a short play we have found to amuse ourselves.”

“Oh, never mind that now, Alys! Tom, take my arm—it delights my heart to see you after so long. It must have been a month at least. Why are you so neglecting me?”

Kate’s complete lack of self-consciousness seemed to do the trick. Sir Thomas almost smiled as he made his bow and turned away with her hand tucked into the crook of his elbow.

Alys hung back, watching the gardener where he stood in the shadow of the yew trees, the tension in his body patent. Eyes glued on the departing pair, he shook his clenched fist, muttering, “A plague on you, Kate Aspinall. And on Sir Thomas Kirlham, too!” Then he stalked away out of sight.

Alys hurried back to the house. Kate wouldn’t bestir herself to be hospitable to their visitor—she’d be expected to do everything and could expect a scolding if she didn’t move swiftly.

It wasn’t until she reached the stout oak front door of the manor house that she stopped to ponder. Why had the gardener sounded so angry? And how, for that matter, did he know who Sir Thomas was, since the nobleman wasn’t local to Suffolk, and this must be the first time he’d seen him at Selwood?

The fellow was a conundrum. And if Kate had taken a liking to him, it might be best for all concerned if he were to be quietly dismissed.