dragon archives 02 - pursued by a dragon (6 page)

“I think we are nearing the end of the wet weather,” Father assured her one clear morning. “I’m sure things will have settled in the next week or two.” Cathryn clamped her teeth together in frustration, glancing out the window as she did so. Through the open shutters she could hear the sounds of the market — a riotous racket where it seemed like all manner of life were competing against each other to make themselves heard — roosters, geese, lambs and pigs lamenting their sorry plights as merchants and sellers yelled out the natures of their wares. Making a quick decision, she gave her father a smile before slipping out the door of his study. Pausing only to fetch her purse and swing a cloak around her shoulders, she made her way out onto the street, following the din to the market.

Once there, Cathryn meandered through the tightly packed stalls of merchandise, twisting adroitly to avoid being knocked over by carefree children and determined shoppers. She paused at a merchant who had a table of polished stones. There was one that caught her eye — a clear, translucent disc of dark orange.

“That would be amber, Mistress,” said the merchant, observing her interest. “Brought from far distant lands, traversing hundreds of miles. It can be yours for ten silver coins.”

“Ten silver coins? That’s too dear for me,” Cathryn said.

“Ah, but for you Mistress, I will sell it for only eight silver coins. That is a bargain you will not see again.”

“You are too kind, Master,” she said. “But I’m afraid I must decline.” She laid the stone down on the table, smiling to herself when the man spoke again.

“Did I say eight coins, Mistress? I meant seven, yours for only seven.”

“Hmm, only seven?” She lifted the amber once more, prepared to examine it more closely, when a voice sounded softly in her ear behind her.

“Cathryn?”

For just an instant, Cathryn felt the sun stand still in its travels through the heavens as her heart started to pound. Carefully replacing the disc on the cloth, she turned around to face the man who would not give her peace.

“Master Drake,” she said, with a very slight nod. “We meet again.”

“Yes.” He stared down at her for a moment, his eyes searching her face, before turning his shoulder and gesturing to a woman standing behind him. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than Favian, and Cathryn guessed her to be in her early forties. And although her coloring was dark, she had the same sapphire-blue eyes as Favian.

“Mistress Cathryn, I would like to introduce my mother, Margaret Drake.”

“Madame Drake,” Cathryn said, quickly adjusting her mental musings on the woman’s age as she dropped a shallow curtsey.

The woman smiled, reaching out to take Cathryn’s hand in her own.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my dear. Please, call me Margaret. And may I call you Cathryn?” She glanced over at her son. “It is how Favian refers to you, so I have become quite used to it in my mind.”

“Yes, of course,” Cathryn said. She also glanced at Favian, wondering what he had said about her, but his expression was closed.

“You can come find us in half an hour,” Margaret said to Favian. “Cathryn and I are going to spend some time getting acquainted.” Favian looked taken aback at being so summarily dismissed, but he took it with good humor.

“Make sure you inform Cathryn of all my charming qualities,” he teased, before turning and heading away.

Margaret watched his retreating figure for a moment before turning to look at the amber still lying on the cloth. The merchant, who had discreetly moved away when Favian and Margaret joined Cathryn, now moved back towards the two women. Picking up the piece of amber, Margaret turned it over in her hands.

“This is a pretty piece,” she said. “I bought one only slightly larger at another market recently, and paid five silver coins for it.” The merchant shot Margaret a glare as she smiled blandly back at him, before turning to Cathryn in defeat.

“Five silver coins, then,” he said.

“Four,” said Margaret. “As I said, my piece was larger.” The man shook his head with a look of infinite despair.

“Very well, four,” he said. “Highway robbery, it is, with me having seven mouths to feed. The children will go to bed with empty stomachs tonight.” He shook his head sadly as Cathryn handed him the coins.

“Only seven children,” replied Margaret with a deepening smile. “I was certain it was nine, but perhaps I have you confused with someone else.” A flush rose in the merchant’s cheeks, but he held Margaret’s gaze.

“Must’ave been someone else, Mistress,” he said. “Good day to you.”

“I will hazard a guess that that was the same merchant you dealt with before,” Cathryn said with a grin as they moved away.

“Yes, it most certainly was. Audacious fellow. I know for a fact that his
three
children are all grown, with children of their own, and his wife does not suffer from a dearth of sustenance.” Margaret glanced at Cathryn as she spoke. “He lives in the city close to our estate, so he is well known to me.”

“The city close to your estate? Where exactly is your estate?”

“It lies thirty-five miles to the north.”

“Thirty-five miles? That’s more than two hours’ ride away. Do you have a house in town as well?”

“No, but I am visiting a friend for a few days. Perhaps you know her? Madame Bradshaw?”

“Yes, I certainly do know Madame Bradshaw. Her husband has business dealings with my father.” Cathryn paused for a moment before returning to her previous confusion. “But Favian must have a house here. He seems to be frequently in town.” She was startled to realize that she didn’t know a great deal about Favian.

“No, I believe he covers the distance from our home and back each time. He has a swift mount, and is happy to traverse the distance,” Margaret replied. “Perhaps,” she added softly, “he feels it is worth the effort.”

Cathryn looked away as she felt the blush mounting in her cheeks, but it quickly faded as Margaret directed her attention to a display of finely woven fabrics, dyed in rich shades of color.

“Look at these lovely hues,” she exclaimed. “This yellow would look very becoming on you,” she said, holding the cloth up to Cathryn’s face. She spent a few more moments admiring the weave and colors, before strolling towards the next table, on which was displayed a collection of hairpins.

“Now this,” Cathryn said, picking up one of the pieces, “is something I am always losing. I will purchase another one now and make my maid very happy.” She dug out a few small coins and handed them over as Margaret waited by her side. As they continued to stroll through the market, Margaret turned to look at her.

“I will be returning home in two days, but if you have some time available, please call on me before I leave. Favian speaks very admiringly of you, and I would like to further our acquaintance while the opportunity exists. Madame Bradshaw is a very late riser, so I am free in the mornings. Can I expect you to call tomorrow?”

Cathryn hesitated before answering. She liked this friendly and unpretentious woman, and wanted to get to know her more, but she did not want Margaret to believe that she returned Favian’s regard for her.

“Yes, I would like that,” Cathryn said cautiously, “but I don’t want to visit under false pretenses. I am betrothed to another man.”

“Yes, I am aware of your longstanding commitment,” Margaret said, “Regardless of your situation, I would still like to further our acquaintance.” Margaret smiled and patted her hand, before turning away and scanning the marketplace.

“Favian is probably wondering where we have gotten to. Ah, there he is now.” Cathryn glanced in the same direction as Margaret, and was rewarded with the sight of Favian scanning the crowds with narrowed eyes. A moment later he saw them, and turning in their direction, quickly closed the distance.

“I was beginning to wonder whether I would ever find you again in this crowd,” Favian said to his mother.

“I have no fear of that,” responded his parent. Turning to Cathryn, she added, “He has the eyes of a hawk.”

Cathryn turned to look at Favian with eyebrows raised.

“Eyes of a hawk and ears of a bat. You are a man of startling abilities, Master Drake. Do you have the nose of a bloodhound too?”

Favian flashed a quick frown at his mother, composing his features into a bland expression as he returned his gaze to Cathryn.

“Perhaps I do. Should we test it out on you?” He took a step towards her, and grinned when she hurriedly stepped back. “You know,” he said with a slight smirk, “if my mother wasn’t here I would tell you that I already know your scent is like that of the early morning air laden with dew, with a hint of roses, but I would not wish to embarrass her.”

Margaret coughed beside her, and Cathryn glared at Favian, suppressing a sharp retort.

“It would appear you have failed in your intention, Master Drake,” she said, glaring at him. Turning to Margaret, she dropped a small curtsey. “Madame Drake, I will see you tomorrow.”

Chapter 10 

Cathryn paused on her way to the Bradshaws' the following morning, glancing around the street. In the daylight it looked quite benign, but it was here, under cover of darkness, that she had seen strange glowing lights, heard eerie silences and felt suspicious breezes. There was nothing threatening now, and after a moment she carried on walking in the direction of the Bradshaws’.

Margaret was seated in the back parlor when Cathryn arrived, and rising, took Cathryn by the hands and led her to a seat beside her own.

“Make yourself comfortable, my dear. I am so delighted you were able to call upon me this morning, since I leave at first light tomorrow,” Margaret said.

“Do you travel alone?” Cathryn asked.

“Oh, no. My husband is coming into town to fetch me.” She sighed with a smile. “I am always happy to return home since I miss my garden when I am away. Each day there is something new to see, and at the moment it is coming into full bloom.”

“That sounds lovely,” Cathryn said wistfully. “I have lived my whole life in town, but have always imagined what it would be like to have private gardens to wander in. Does your estate include woods?”

“Yes, there are woods to the east of the house, which will be purple with bluebells, and beyond the gardens there is wilderness, where wildflowers grow in profusion. At the moment it will be full of wild daffodils and crocuses.” Margaret watched Cathryn closely as she spoke, before rising and offering her a glass of wine from a pitcher on the table. “I understand from Master Bradshaw that you will be going on the road for your father’s wool business,” said Margaret, as she returned to her seat.

“Yes,” Cathryn said. “I’m hoping that the weather will allow me to set out before the end of the month.”

“You are quite active in this business, I understand,” Margaret said. “Have you done a tour before?”

“Never without Father, but Father’s bailiff will travel with me.”

“Well, Master Bradshaw considers you very competent, which is high praise indeed, and your father evidently considers you worthy of his trust. Are you an only child?”

“Yes, my mother died in childbirth when I was very young,” replied Cathryn.

“And your father never remarried.”

“No, he always said his work was a far more consistent lover.”

“You must have had a lonely childhood.”

“I never felt the want of company,” Cathryn said. “As a child I managed to keep myself amused, and as I grew older, my father spent time teaching me the business.”

“Well, I think Favian would envy you the lack of siblings. He has an older sister, with whom he was always at odds. Of course, he seemed particularly well versed at being an annoying younger brother, and for every slight he suffered at his sister’s hands, he gave back twice as much. His father was always trying to keep him under control, but he would just as soon discover some new source of mischief. He splashed the juice of blackberries into Ayleth’s hair once while she slept, and for weeks she had purple streaks in her hair.” Margaret laughed at the memory. “Ayleth never forgot it either, and years later, she poured honey on his, er, in his hair while he slept. It created a dreadful mess, but Favian is far more forgiving than his sister.” Margaret took a sip of her wine. “You must have had a governess as you were growing up?”

“No. My father believed an education in the warehouse would be of more value than learning needlework and music from a governess.”

“And you don’t regret the lack of learning in these areas?”

“I don’t suppose I have given it a lot of thought. I used to wish I could learn to play the lute, but my father did allow me to indulge my passion for books to a certain degree.”

As the hours slid by, Margaret listened as Cathryn spoke more about her childhood, the education she had received from her father, and how her betrothal had come about. Margaret, in turn, shared with Cathryn her passion for horticulture and herbals. As the lady of a large manor, she was often called upon to administer physics and tonics to the villeins who lived on their estate, and Cathryn listened in delight as she told stories about some of the people she had helped. It was already past noon when Cathryn rose and regretfully said her farewells, expressing her regret at the distance of Margaret’s estate from the town.

“I would love to further our acquaintance,” she said, “and also see your garden.”

“Perhaps you will,” was Margaret’s reply.

Chapter 11 

Cathryn was seated in her father’s study two days later when the note arrived. It was from Margaret, inviting her to spend a few nights with her at her home in the country.

‘In addition to the enjoyment of your company,’ read the note, ‘I would love to share the delights of my garden, which is looking quite lovely, with such an enthusiastic admirer. If you are agreeable, I will send the carriage for you on Monday morning, and will return you home again Wednesday afternoon.’

“Who is your note from?” Father asked, watching his daughter with interest.

“It’s from Madame Drake. She has invited me to visit her at her home in the country.” She looked at her father with a smile of eagerness.