The Prince of Lies (Night's Masque, #3)(33)

To her relief Sandy came down to the hall for meals more often, but half the time he didn’t respond to his own name and she could hardly call him “Erishen” in front of the servants. Once or twice she even caught him referring to his nephew as “Kiiren”, and though she chided him, he appeared unrepentant. If they did not join Mal in London soon, she didn’t know what she would do with him.

“I thought you might like to take Kit to see the new lambs,” she said one day at dinner, some ten days after Mal’s departure. “The path up towards Bleak Low should be dry enough by now.”

Sandy’s reply was interrupted by the sound of hoofbeats from the courtyard. Coby leapt up from her seat and ran to the front door, wiping her hands on her apron as she went.

Five horsemen, not one, drew to a halt in the centre of the courtyard. Nor was their leader her husband, though he was handsome enough, with dark wind-blown hair and grey eyes that sparkled with the exertion of his ride. He dismounted smoothly and bowed to Coby.

“Mistress Catlyn.”

“Do I know you?”

“William Frogmore, at your service.” He bowed again.

So, this was the Huntsman Mal had worked with in Kent.

“Ah, of course. Do come inside and refresh yourself,” she said, forcing a smile. She glanced at Frogmore’s companions and reluctantly added, “Your men, also.”

In truth they were as hard-eyed a bunch of ruffians as she had seen in all her time in Southwark, with steel gorgets around their throats and pistols tucked into their belts. Well, let them swagger; I am not afraid of them. I bet they’ve never even seen a devourer, let alone killed one.

As they entered the hall, Susanna rose from her seat and Kit jumped down and hid behind her skirts, eyeing the new arrivals suspiciously.

“Catlyn?” Frogmore strode up to the dais.

Sandy nodded his acknowledgement, but made no further move. Frogmore glanced back at Coby, puzzled, then his features relaxed into a smile.

“Ah, you must be his brother, Alexander. Truly, the likeness is remarkable.”

“So I am told.”

Sandy's icy tones did not invite further pleasantries, and it was left to Coby to fill the silence.

“Do you not bring news of my husband, sir?”

“He is not here?”

She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

“That is a pity,” Frogmore said. “I'd hoped to have words with him ere I return to my estate in Kent.”

“He is gone to London. I’m surprised you did not see him on the road.”

“Oh, I have been in Derbyshire some weeks, visiting old friends.”

Sandy turned pale and looked as though he were about to say something impolitic.

“Why don’t you take Kit up for his nap?” she said quickly. “Susanna has a good deal of sewing to do, don’t you, my dear?”

The nursemaid nodded, her glance flicking over to the visitors. So, she didn’t think much of them either.

Sandy beckoned to Kit, who dashed round the back of the chairs and flung his arms around his uncle’s long legs.

“You will be down again for supper?” she murmured to Sandy as he bent to pick Kit up.

“If you insist.”

“I do.” She watched the three of them leave, then turned back to her guest. “You must forgive my brother-in-law. He takes his duty of guardianship very seriously.”

“I understand. The enemy are devious, and even little children are not safe from their enchantments.”

Somehow Coby managed to keep her expression blank.

“Indeed.” The sooner these zealots were out of her house, the better she would like it. “Please, sit down. It’s a long ride to Kent, and I would not see you leave on an empty belly.”

“Perhaps we should stay a day or two,” Frogmore said, stepping up onto the dais and taking Sandy’s now-empty seat. “My men could go hunting in the morning, bring you some fresh meat for your table.”

Frogmore’s men took their places on the servants’ table and began helping themselves to bread and beer. Coby resumed her own place at table, next to Frogmore.

“That’s most generous,” she said, “but I wouldn’t want you to delay your homeward journey on our account. Do you not have a wife waiting for you?”

“Alas, my business affairs take up a great deal of my time. And God’s work must come first, must it not?”

Coby could hardly disagree, but thankfully Frogmore soon turned the conversation to less contentious topics such as the prospect for the coming year’s harvest. She offered her own inexpert opinions and withdrew to her own chamber as soon as it was courteous to do so. All this talk of country matters only made her homesick for London, and she was determined to leave soon, whether Mal sent for her or no. Either he was safe in London, in which case he would be glad to see them earlier than expected, or he was in trouble and the sooner she was there to help him, the better.

One thing was certain: she could not let Frogmore know of her plans. He would surely offer his services to escort them to London, and for all her bravado she would as soon take up with bandits as travel with the Huntsmen. Tempted as she was to send him on his way this very afternoon, however, it would be hard to do so without arousing his suspicions. No, she would let Frogmore and his men stay here tonight, then give them a good start in the morning before setting off herself. She smiled to herself. If Mal were in trouble, this was a job for intelligencer Jacob Hendricks, not Lady Jacomina Catlyn. And travelling in male guise would be safer in any case.