Black Powder by Ally Sherrick Read Free Book Online

rustling. A sudden whiff of something bitter-sweet stung his nostrils.
    As she approached, the shadows fell away revealing a sharp curved nose, marble-carved cheeks and a pair of flint-grey eyes. She wore a black velvet cap on top of her head and beneath it a lace caul pulled tight over a twist of parchment-coloured hair. A jewelled crucifix swung on a chain below the ruff at her neck, its gold arms gleaming in the firelight. She stopped suddenly and slid her head towards him, like a river heron about to spike a fish. Tom licked his lips and edged backwards.
    â€˜I am Magdalen, Viscountess Montague, widow of Lord Montague’s grandfather, the first Viscount, and while My Lord and his wife are in London, mistress of this household. Explain yourself, boy.’ She struck the floor with her cane.
    â€˜I . . . er . . .’
    The girl darted forwards. ‘I took this from him, Granny.’ She waved the prayer book in the air.
    â€˜Give it back!’ Tom made a swipe for it.
    She jerked it out of his reach, gave him a triumphant smile, then curtseyed and handed the prayer book to the Viscountess. ‘There’s an inscription inside. He claims it’s from the lord my father to his mother.’
    He glared at her.
    â€˜Bring me my eyeglasses, girl.’ The Viscountess shot out a bony hand.
    The girl hurried over to a large leather-topped table next to the fireplace. She rummaged through the rolls of parchment and piles of books stacked on top of it.
    â€˜Hurry, will you?’ The old woman clicked her fingers.
    â€˜Here they are, Granny.’ The girl bobbed back to her side and held out a piece of curved horn with two circles of glass fixed beneath it.
    The old woman perched the strange-looking object on the end of her nose and scanned the page with a pointed nail. Tom was sure for a moment her eyes widened.
    She removed the eyeglasses from her nose, hooked them over the black cord at her waist and snapped the book shut. ‘And how can I be sure you did not steal it?’
    His cheeks flushed. What right did she have to accuse him of being a thief ? Just because he wasn’t rich like them. If he had the choice, he’d march out of the room right now. But he needed her to believe him, for Mother and Father’s sake. He gritted his teeth.
    â€˜Mother told me she was Lord . . . I mean Uncle Montague’s favourite sister. She said he gave the prayer book to her for her sixteenth birthday, the day before she left here for good. She said . . . she said he used to call her his own dear Nan.’
    The Viscountess narrowed her eyes. ‘And did she say why she left?’
    He frowned. ‘She mentioned some troubles between them. She seemed sad . . .’
    â€˜As well she might.’ The Viscountess sounded bitter. She shook her head. ‘Such a waste.’
    A surge of hope flashed through Tom. ‘So you believe me?’
    â€˜I admit the evidence you give is compelling. But whyare you here?’
    â€˜To get help. Mother is in gaol . . .’
    The girl gasped and put her hand to her mouth.
    The Viscountess struck the floor with her cane again. ‘In gaol? Why?’
    Tom hesitated. Could he trust her with the truth? He glanced at the cross hanging from her neck. The conversation between the two men outside the gate about ‘My Lady’s not-so-secret Mass’ echoed in his ears. He clenched his fingers tight against his palms. He’d have to. How else was he going to get the Montagues’ help?
    â€˜She and Father they . . . they sheltered a priest, and now the constable is hunting Father down.’ His bottom lip trembled.
    â€˜What?’ The Viscountess’s eyebrows arched in horror.
    He swallowed. Now wasn’t the time to confess what a coward he’d been. But at least, with the old woman’s help, he’d have a chance to put it right. ‘Mother said Uncle Montague was