Free Season of the Fox (A Servant of the Crown Mystery Book 2) by Denise Domning Page A

and the frames moved into the corners where they cannot be disturbed or marked by unthinking hands or curious fingers. After that, we’ll all of us be in the kitchen, else there won’t be anything decent to feed those who come to pay their respects upon the morrow.”
    That elicited groans from a few of those she commanded, but they all did as she bid. As these women began gathering up their work, the needlewoman crossed the hall to join Faucon. She offered him the show of respect that the daughter of this house had not.
    “I am Mistress Nanette, Sir Crowner.” She pointed toward the door across the landing. “Mistress Alina is in her chamber. If you will?”
    Faucon exited the hall ahead of her, only to stop when they were both on the landing, hoping she would allow him a private moment. “I must tell you, Mistress Nanette. This house and its trade are like none I’ve ever seen.”
    That made her smile, the movement of her mouth filling her face and blue eyes with lively amusement. “I can imagine our work must seem strange indeed, especially to a newcomer. I expect I’d say the same were I to see this house and what we do for the first time. But I long ago forgot my amazement over how the Lord saw fit to turn us all upon our ears, and now only remember how much it was to my benefit.”
    Faucon cocked his head at that, the motion encouraging her to continue. She did.
    “I came into this house as barely more than a babe, the extra daughter of a poor man sold to the master as a kitchen lass. And that’s what I did–swept ashes from the oven and hearth–for several years. Of course, that was back when the apprentices in this house were still all lads learning how to make flax into linen, then how to turn that fabric into the braies and head scarves that one expects from a lindraper.”
    “What changed?” Faucon asked when it seemed that Nanette might go no further with her tale.
    His question made Mistress Nanette’s eyes sparkle. “Mistress Elinor, the old master’s wife,” she replied. “She was a woman who couldn’t bear waste. She took the scraps left from her husband’s projects and turned them into ribbons decorated by her hand with colorful threads. It was a skill she’d learned from some relative, and one that gave her joy. This she did only to please herself but the old master didn’t complain. Although the time she stole for her bits and pieces might have been used for his business, her work always sold, even if it didn’t generate much additional profit for the house.
    “Then one day her designs caught the eye of our abbot, the one who ruled before this new one.” The movement of her hand and sharp lift of her brows as she spoke suggested she thought little of Abbot Athelard. “He begged the mistress to make him a few yards in a specific pattern. It was a gift, he told her, but didn’t mention for whom his gift was intended. Shortly after she had delivered what he requested, a royal messenger arrived. Our old queen–our present king’s mother–sent words of praise for Mistress Elinor’s work and asked for more ribbons, yards and yards more, in that same particular pattern. The price offered for the work was, indeed, princely.”
    Faucon’s brows rose at that. Nanette laughed at his surprised look. “Exactly our reaction, sir. You cannot imagine the panic created by such a request! In an instant, the master gave up head scarves and undergarments, making room instead for the mistress’s new frames. Every nimble finger in the household, mine included, even though as a servant I had neither the right nor the coin to tread where apprentices did, was put to work satisfying our queen.”
    Her smile widened into a pleased grin at the memory. “That day, I went from a life of drudgery to one that filled my heart with joy, doing so at no cost to me or my family. As you can see from our present house, Mistress Elinor did better than please her new customer. More requests followed, and, as