Page 110

“Any notes you want delivering?” he asked hopefully.

Fen realized he probably wanted to make himself scarce for a while. “I do have one for Lady Eden Montmayne as it happens,” she said pointing toward the small table.

Cuthbert wandered over and picked it up. “This isn’t the right one,” he said. “This is addressed to Mr Entner.”

“I know,” Fen explained. “But I want it to be delivered to Lady Eden for her to forward on for me. I don’t know Mr Entner’s address. I did write a covering note to Eden, it should be there.”

Cuthbert scanned the second page. “This is it,” he agreed, and refolded them with Eden’s note on the outside. “Anything else?”

“Allow me to give you some coin this time,” said Fen rising from her chair.

“Not necessary,” shrugged Cuthbert. “I’m on a retainer and you’re family, so…” He let his words trail off though he still hovered by the door instead of leaving.

“Have you been Mason’s squire for long?” asked Fen politely.

Cuthbert nodded. “A year last Michaelmas. I was Lady Linnet’s page before that.”

“It must be a position of great responsibility,” she said gravely.

Cuthbert shrugged. “My master doesn’t enter the lists,” he said with a trace of bitterness.

“I fear my husband is the same,” said Fen sympathetically. “I think it’s because they were soldiers. Could you not ask to support Master Roland for a while at court? That way you would get to experience the tournaments.”

Cuthbert’s eyes widened. “Support Master Roland?” he repeated. “Do you think I could?”

“I don’t see why not,” said Fen. “The family are clearly very fond of you. I can’t imagine they would deny you the experience. And Roland has no page or squire of his own that I can discern.”

Cuthbert nodded slowly, and seemed to look upon her with a dawning new respect. He started toward the door, before turning back impulsively. “Did you really show up at court with your wedding papers to show to Lord Vawdrey?” he asked.

Fen considered this. She guessed he had been hearing all the palace gossip. Of course, technically, this was nothing but the truth. “I did,” she said inclining her head. “But shall I tell you a secret, Cuthbert, for your ears only?”

He cocked his head. “Yes?”

“When I did it, I thought to coerce Lord Vawdrey to act as my champion. I did not dream he would turn around and lay claim to me for a wife.”

Cuthbert seemed to consider this. “They do say as he’s a dark horse,” he said at last. “My granny’s a witch,” he added with great insouciance. “I got the sight too. Want me to read your palm?” He said it so obligingly that Fen found herself holding out her hand. The boy drew up a chair beside her. She could not imagine a more unlikely witch if she tried, with his golden curls and pink-and-white complexion.

“You been sleeping under an oak tree,” he said, startling her greatly. “Sleeping and waiting for a half-dead man.”

Fen gave an involuntary exclamation and tried to draw back, but his grip was surprisingly strong.

“You didn’t ought to do that,” he said sternly. “It’s bad fortune, sleeping under trees. Everyone knows that. So’s waiting for the dead. Lucky for you, he didn’t die all the way,” he traced a line on her palm. “Only part of him was killed. A part what you can give back to him, if you’ve got the courage.”

Fen stared at him, feeling oddly deprived of breath. She knew it was pointless telling him that she’d never slept under a tree in her life. That wasn’t how it worked. He was looking at her expectantly. “Thank you,” she said.

“You gotta give me something now,” he said with a small sigh.

She knew that also, and fetched him the silver pilgrim’s token out of her drawer.

He took it and turned it over. “A coin would do.”

“I want you to have this.” She didn’t really know why.

He untied a leather thong from around his neck and threaded the token onto it alongside several other trinkets. Then he slipped it back into his shirt. She thought of the padlock locket and shivered.

“Who’s the man?” he asked curiously.

She knew at once what he meant. “Oswald Vawdrey.”