"Oh, Thomas!" Ella was staring at her son in dismay. How could you shirk your responsibilities like that, with your poor father only ten days dead? I must depend upon you more than ever now. Miles cannot manage on his own, so — "
"Why not?" Jonet rushed loyally — if rashly — to her lover's defense. "Miles is very skilled at his craft. Even Papa was pleased with his work, and you know how demanding he could be!"
"I was not finding fault with Miles, Jonet. I do think he is a good worker. But he is not family, dearest. That is what meant."
"Since when do you speak so kindly of the hired help, Jonet?" Thomas asked snidely. "I never heard you lavishing praise on Berta's custard or telling Edwin what a good hand he was with the horses."
Jonet betrayed herself with a deep blush, but fortunately for her, Ella was too accustomed to their bickering to pay it any heed. Glancing from face to face, Justin decided that Guy knew about Miles and Jonet. He doubted, though, that Thomas knew, for he was too self-absorbed to ferret out other people's secrets; his gibe had been a random shot that just happened to hit its target. Jonet had reached that same conclusion; her blush was fading. For a few moments, it seemed as if the remainder of the meal would be passed in a semblance of peace.
Guy was rubbing his aching temples, all the while regarding his nephew with unconcealed disapproval. "Well, Thomas? Just where were you this afternoon?"
Thomas set his wine cup down, looking first at his mother and then his uncle. "I was going to wait, but I think it best to tell you here and now. I went to Hyde Abbey to meet with Abbot John."
Justin thought that, as excuses went, this was a good one, a much more respectable reason for playing truant than stopping off at the closest alehouse. He did not understand, therefore, why Ella and Guy looked so upset, Jonet so pleased.
"Thomas!" Ella sounded stricken. "It was agreed that we'd talk no more of this — "
"You and Papa agreed, I did not! I have had a candid talk with Father Abbot and he has agreed to accept me as a novice in the Benedictine order, with the intent of taking holy vows once I have proved myself worthy."
"It was your father's dearest wish that you become a goldsmith!"
"What is Papa's wish when compared with God's Will?"
"You had no right to do this!"
"I am doing Almighty God's bidding, Uncle Guy! And I'll not let Mama and you thwart me as Papa did, that I swear by the Blessed Cross!"
Justin shoved his bench out. As rude as it would be to leave in the middle of the meal, it would be worse to remain, an unwilling eavesdropper to this family breach. "My horse picked up a pebble on the road… I need to make sure the hoof is not bruised…" Mumbling whatever came to mind, he backed away from the table.
His departure went unnoticed. By the time he reached the door, the hall was in utter turmoiclass="underline" Guy and Thomas were trading heated accusations, Ella wiping away tears with a napkin, Guy's anxious wife wavering between her white-faced husband and the baby now wailing in her cradle, Berta and Edith drawn by the uproar. Only Jonet remained calm, elbows propped on the table, chin resting on her laced fingers, watching with alert interest and the faintest inkling of a smile.
~~
The night sky was adrift in stars, but a gusting wind sent Justin hastening toward the shelter of the stable. Within, a wick floated in the oil of a cresset lamp, sputtering fitfully. Copper and two rounceys stretched their necks over their stall doors, nickering. Edwin was sprawled on a blanket, an empty trencher beside him in the straw. "What brings you out here?" he asked in surprise.
"I'm in need of a safe haven. How would you like to show me your favorite alehouse?"
Edwin was already on his feet. "It is right up the road. And wait until you see Avis, the serving maid! But what are you fleeing from?"
"A family bloodletting. Thomas announced that he means to become a monk and they did not take it well."
"I was wondering when he'd spring that on them. I half expected him to do it at graveside as they were burying his father!"
"You knew, then, about this?"
"Me and half of Winchester!"
Out on the street, it was too cold to talk. The wind blew back the hoods of their mantles, soon set their teeth to chattering. Fortunately, Edwin had not exaggerated the alehouse's proximity, and they raced each other for that beckoning doorway. Inside, it was crowded and noisy and hazy with hearth smoke, and looked far more welcoming to Justin than the Fitz Randolphs' spacious great hall.
Much to Edwin's disappointment, Avis had gone home with a toothache. He cheered up, though, when Justin paid for their ale, and was quite willing to tell all he knew about the goldsmith's son and his zeal to become a Black Monk.
"Thomas never made a secret of his belief that God had called him to serve. He has been set upon the religious life since he was sixteen, but his father balked and would not give his consent. A baron's family can afford to spare a younger son for the Church, not a craftsman with but one son and heir. Master Gervase hoped that it was a youthful whim, one Thomas would outgrow in time. He never understood that Thomas truly believes he is one of The Chosen and it would be a mortal sin not to obey God's Holy Word."
When Edwin paused to drink, Justin did, too, needing something to dispel a chill that had nothing to do with the cold. Could love of God have led to murder? It was such an unholy thought that he wanted to reject it out of hand. It was not that easy, though. Thomas's strident voice was echoing in his ears. What is Papa's wish when compared with God's Will?
Making an effort, he banished his suspicions back into the shadows, to be scrutinized in the reassuring light of day. "You said that Gervase and Guy were often at odds. What did they fight about, Edwin — money?"
"Yes." Edwin's smile was curious. "How did you guess?"
"Guy objected to putting up a large marriage portion for Jonet. So it only makes sense that he'd have objected, too, to Gervase's openhanded spending."
"That he did, loudly and often. It availed him naught, of course. In Gervase's eyes, he was still the little brother. Where Master Gervase saw opportunity, Master Guy saw risks, and so they could not help but clash. Especially since the more successful Master Gervase became, the bigger his dreams got. Master Guy even accused him once of aping his betters and trying to live like a lord!"
"That sounds like more than a mere squabble. Did they often quarrel that hotly?"
"No… not often. Just whenever Master Gervase would do something truly extravagant — like when he bought Quicksilver and gave the cottage to Aldith and sought to buy Jonet a high-born husband. Now, those quarrels were hotter than a baker's oven!"
"Who is Aldith and why was he giving her a cottage?"
Edwin winked. "Now, why do you think?"
Justin sat up straight on the bench. "He kept a whore?"
"It depends on who you ask. I'd call her a concubine, a paramour, mayhap even a leman, for Master Gervase was right fond of her. Thomas did call her a whore, and his father backhanded him across the face for it. I saw it all, there in the stable. Blood spurting from Thomas's nose and Master Gervase sorry afterward, almost apologizing, but Thomas having none of it, just one more grievance to hold fast."
"Did Gervase's wife know?"
"You think Thomas did not make sure of that? She knew. She'd have had to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to know, for it lasted nigh on ten years. Master Gervase did not flaunt Aldith, but neither did he make a secret of her. It was not unusual for him to dispatch me on an errand for her, and whenever she was taken ill, he'd have Berta cook a special soup that Aldith fancied. She was part of his life, you see. The priest could rail against adultery in his Sunday sermons, but I'd wager Master Gervase still saw it as a venial sin, one hardly worth bothering the Almighty with!"