Free The outlaw's tale by Margaret Frazer Page B

described as a child.  He's all of fifteen and has been at university this year and a half past.  He's to be a lawyer at the Inns of Court when he's finished at Oxford.  He's home now for a month, and except he's gone with his father, he would have greeted you at the door as man of the house."
    She said it with such a combination of amusement and warm sympathy that Frevisse asked, “Is he your favorite?"
    Magdalen shook her head.  “I know better than to have a favorite.  I like each for who each is.  They're all too different from one another.  And poor Edward is in a difficult time just now, so aware that he's the eldest and the heir, since Edmund died.  But he's only fifteen and not a man yet, for all he thinks he should be.  There was some talk he should give up the law, after his older brother died, but Edward's too good at his studies to settle for less than what the law can bring him.  He'll find his balance in a little while.  But meanwhile he can be..."
    She paused, looking for the word.
    “Prickly?" Frevisse offered.
    Magdalen smiled.  “I mustn't say so.  But his brother Richard is surely an easier person to be with.  He's always been the quiet one, but his judgement's steady.  He's twelve and shares Edward's room if not Edward's love of learning.  And then there's Katherine.  She's nine, and much the young image of her mother and a darling."
    Darling was not a word Frevisse would have chosen for Mistress Payne but Magdalen's fondness for both her sister-in-law and niece was plain.
    “And then there's Kate - another Katherine because her sister was sickly when Kate was born and Oliver wanted to be sure to keep our mother's name among his children.  She's a darling, too, in her own way.  And then there's Bartholomew.  He and Kate are rascals both.  They work together to their own ends more often than not, and God save the rest of us when they do.  They seem to take especial pleasure in tormenting Edward because he's just at the age to feel his dignity most tenderly."  She smiled again.  “Last week they-"
    A tapping at the door interrupted her.  She called, “Come," and Mistress Payne opened the door barely enough to slip through.  She pushed it closed behind her, then hurried over to bob a curtsey to Frevisse and say earnestly, “My husband has returned and begs the favor of seeing you, to assure you of his welcome.  Is it possible?  Are you...?"  She gestured vaguely to cover the myriad possible reasons Frevisse might have for refusing.
    To Frevisse's mind it would be discourtesy to refuse to meet her host when he proposed it.  And she was curious, too, to meet someone who had supposedly honest dealings with Nicholas.  She quickly said, “I'd be very pleased to see him.  To thank him and- "  She broke off, her hand going to her bare head and then to her gown.  She was not dressed for being seen by any man.
    But Magdalen had already risen and gone to one of the chests along the wall to bring back a wimple and veil of her own.   “Here," she said.  “They're not like your own but they might do."  She went to another chest and brought out a dark cloak.  “And this will cover your gown."
    The wimple and veil were most assuredly not like Frevisse's own; the linen was woven far finer than any they wore in St. Frideswide's, and she had not worn a white veil since she was a novice.
    “Pins," said Magdalen and went to fetch them, then arranged the wimple to cover Frevisse's forehead, throat and chin.  She pinned it in place and the veil over it.  “There!  And here's the cloak."
    As Magdalen draped the cloak around her shoulders. Frevisse felt its sumptuous soft wool and its squirrel-fur lining.  Trying to ignore how elegant it felt, she glanced across the room at Sister Emma, still soundly sleeping.  Iseult, following her thought, went to close the bed curtains.  Magdalen stepped back from making sure the cloak covered her down to her toes and said, “Yes, you'll