Free The queen's man : a medieval mystery by Sharon Kay Penman Page B

have a firm grip on the beast's collar.
    "Yes?" Her voice was low for a woman, with a distinctive husky tone; it made Justin want to hear it again.
    "Mistress Talbot? I know it is presumptuous of me to show up at your door like this. But I was hoping you could spare me a few moments. My name is Justin de Quincy. I was with Master Fitz Randolph when he died."
    "Come in."
    When she opened the door wider, Justin carefully edged inside, keeping a wary eye on the mastiff. "You need not worry about Jezebel," she said, sounding amused. "She has eaten already."
    Jezebel? At least the woman had a sense of humor. And the dog was further proof of Gervase's devotion, for purebreds were outrageously expensive and mastiffs practically worth their weight in gold.
    As she turned to close the door, Justin glanced curiously about the cottage. There was a fireplace against the far wall, a canopied bed partially screened off, a cushioned settle, an oak trestle table, several stools and coffer chests, and a woven wall

    Sharon Kay Penman
    hanging, dyed in bright shades of red and yellow. It was a comfortable room, and it was easy to imagine Gervase hastening here after another squabble with his brother, a spat with his son.
    He had not realized that his scrutiny was so conspicuous until Aldith murmured, "Did you miss the fur-lined coverlet on the bed?"
    Justin smiled apologetically. "I suppose I was staring, but—" He got no further, for Aldith Talbot quite literally took his breath away. She could not be considered beautiful in the strictest sense of the word, for her mouth was too large, her chin too pointed, her cheekbones too wide. But the result was somehow magical. Her hair was a rich, deep auburn, lustrous and gleaming wherever the firelight caught it, and it was loose about her shoulders, which had an erotic impact in and of itself, for women kept their hair covered in public, unbound only in the privacy of their homes. She had slanting cat eyes, a vibrant shade of blue-green, and Justin was sure that one lingering look would melt most men like candle wax. No wonder Gervase had thought her well worth a mortal sin!
    "Are you done, Master de Quincy?"
    Justin flushed, feeling like a grass-green stripling undone by his first glimpse of a trim female ankle. "Almost," he said sheepishly. "All I need to do now is to trip over your dog and spill some wine on your skirt."
    "You might want to break a cup, too," she suggested, but he could see the laughter shimmering in the depths of those turquoise eyes, like sunlight on seawater. "I shall share a secret with you," she said. "There is not a woman alive who does not appreciate a compliment now and then, and yours was the most flattering tribute of all—the involuntary kind!"
    Taking his arm, she steered him toward the settle. But once they were seated, Justin became aware of a savory aroma wafting from the hearth, where a cauldron was bubbling over an iron trivet. Glancing around the cottage, he focused for the first time on the table and its contents: the white cloth, the wrought-iron candlesticks, twin wine flagons and cups, a freshly baked loaf, two trenchers carved from stale bread, spoons and knives neatly

    THE QUEEN'S MAN
    aligned. "I am intruding/' he said, starting to rise. "You are expecting company ..."
    Sit,'' she urged. "We have time to talk. I would like you to tell me about Gervase's dying. Did he suffer much?"
    She was the first one to ask him that. "He was in pain, Mistress Talbot, but not for long. Death came quickly."
    "Thank God Almighty for that," she said somberly, and under her unwavering blue-green gaze, he told her how Gervase had died, omitting any mention of the queen's letter and his own rash promise to the goldsmith. When he was done, she sighed, daubed unself-consciously at her eyes with the flowing sleeve of her gown, and then insisted upon fetching him a cup of wine. "I am glad you sought me out so we'd have this chance to talk. And I am very glad, indeed, to be able