Lindsay Townsend by Mistress Angel Read Free Book Online

William shrugged, swinging a leg as he
settled more deeply into the master’s chair. “We have set our sights too low
with Stephen Fletcher. You must aim higher.”
    You did not expect me to win his interest
so swiftly. Had Matthew
been with her, Sir William’s implied admission would have been gratifying.  As
it was, Isabella experienced a familiar frustration and a rising shame. “Stephen
is visiting me today. He is a good man, decent.” And you cannot stand the
idea of an honorable man being attracted to me, or of my being a little happy
in his company.
    Sir William stroked his beard, then the
jewel box, then his goldsmith’s livery again. “Go out with him, then. Take Mary
and John with you.”
    Isabella, guessing Sir William expected her
to protest, slammed her teeth together and said nothing. Mary and John were her
uncle’s servants and spies in this house. Mary especially would report
everything she did, or did not do, including how she behaved with Stephen and
with other men. The idea of sour-faced, grasping Mary and her slack-bellied
husband John being with her, watching her, listening to her conversations with Stephen
was not to be borne. “No,” she said.
    Sir William snorted. “You seem to think you
have a choice.”
    “Beat her.” Margery held up a broom. “Beat
her, teach her to obey.”
    “Oh, no,” replied her kinsman, clearly
enjoying the moment as he smoothed and tweaked his beard a second time. “We
have done that before, cousin, and the wretch learns nothing. No, I shall not
touch her.”
    He smiled. “I will beat Matthew instead.”
    “Do not—You must not!” Isabella ran at him
but a scream from her mother-in-law had three servants, including John, rushing
into the hall. Before she could touch or even argue with Sir William, the three
men grabbed her, John slapping his hand across her mouth with such force that
she saw stars and her teeth rattled.
    “Remove her,” said Sir William, with a
languid wave of his hand. “She knows what she must do.” Abruptly his face and
manner hardened. “Get the mewling bitch out of my sight.”
    Isabella was hauled away.
    ****
     
    Riding from his sister’s house, Stephen
told himself that it was good his daughter Joanna was at ease and sleeping
through the night. He told himself it was good that work at the forges went
well. He told himself—
    No. No more telling. It has been seven days
now and Isabella is different. I do not understand what has happened, but she
is no longer easy with me.
    He could not believe that she had changed
in her feelings toward him. They had begun so well. Yet, the very day after he
had caught her, saved her and taken her home, the very next day after they had
kissed, she had visibly cooled in her manner to him. At the same time yet more
weight had dropped from her so she looked older. Even her bright gold hair
seemed dulled.
    She always agrees to meet me, yet is
subdued in my company. At times I see her looking at nothing, as if staring at
something else.
    Yesterday he had asked her bluntly what
troubled her. “Nothing, ‘tis only a stomach-ache,” she had answered, glancing
at the two servants who were always with her these days, a mildewed-looking
pair. And today, when he had planned to take her to his home to visit his
daughter she had cried off, saying she must work. Then, contrary-wise, she had
begged him to visit her in the evening. “We might spend time with my friend
Amice the spice-seller, at her home.” She had then added in a lower voice, “Amice
knows Matthew, too.”
    “Agreed,” Stephen had said at once, for he
wanted answers. Perhaps, away from her family and the miserable servants who
shadowed her every step, Isabella would be disposed to supply them.
    What is she about? The only times she had been truly animated
had been when she spoke of her son and when she questioned him closely about
Kent and the houses and villages there, asking for the names of the
land-owners. What has gone wrong for