This Sun of York by Susan Appleyard

Author:Susan Appleyard [Appleyard, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Susan Appleyard
Published: 2017-06-29T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 32

November 1459 – Nutwell, Devonshire

Edward stood at the huge table in the Dyneham’s kitchen, skinning and gutting a brace of hares he had trapped that morning in preparation for the cooking pot. It was a task he was not altogether unfamiliar with, for as young lads he and Edmund had gone through a phase when they had insisted on preparing their catch. That period had yielded to other novel experiences, but he remembered how to do it even if his fingers lacked the dexterity of long practice. He had set the snares, too, and was feeling proud of his accomplishments. When Joanna had teasingly suggested he should cook it also, he admitted that his accomplishments didn’t extend so far. She would make a civet of hare for supper. The meat would be grilled, then cut up and cooked again with onions, vinegar, wine and spices, and thickened with breadcrumbs.

He thought about Edmund frequently. The last time they had been apart, the truth was he had thought about him seldom, except to pity him, and hardly missed him at all; there had been so many new experiences to distract him. And he knew it wouldn’t be long before they would be together again. This time it was different. He had too much time on his hands, and he missed Edmund.

“Are you hungry, my lord?” Joanna Dyneham asked.

She was bending over the fire, where a huge iron kettle full of water was kept hot. Other pans and cauldrons stood on trivets that could be swung over the fire. Utensils hung from pegs against the chimney breast. Next to the hearth was a barrel of water, conveniently placed for general use and also in case a cinder fell and started a fire. Hanging on one wall were various sizes of pots and a shelf full of smaller utensils such as colanders and a mortar and pestle. Above the table, and grazing Edward’s head whenever he forgot to duck were the herbs Joanna had collected and was now drying: yarrow, sage, rosemary and thyme. In a very small locked chest, she kept her supply of spices, some of which were worth more than their weight in gold.

Before Edward could speak, she answered her own question. “Of course, you are. Young men are hungry always. It is the same with my John. I sometimes wonder if he isn’t secretly feeding the whole neighbourhood.”

She came to Edward’s side with a generous slice of fragrant bread right out of the oven, oozing butter and spread with golden honey. Edward tore off a large bite and spoke with a mouthful of delicious flavours. “If we should eat you out of house and home, you’ll have only yourself to blame, for you have the ability to turn the simplest fare into a feast for the senses.”

Joanna’s chuckle was rich and hearty. “And you, my young lord, if you’ll forgive the observation, have a right facile tongue. I hope it gets you out of more trouble than it gets you into.

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