Murder at Beaulieu Abbey by Cassandra Clark

Author:Cassandra Clark [Cassandra Clark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House
Published: 2019-04-08T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTEEN

Harbour House, Dickson’s headquarters.

Master Dickson was the fellow Luke had already met in passing and who had so outraged his sense of monastic privilege. It seemed the fellow was a close colleague of the Master Selby who owned the house where Sabine was lodging.

A big, bluff, red-faced man in early middle age, Dickson’s pock-marked face was not pleasant to look at. He made up for any shortcomings in personal beauty by attiring himself in a rich collection of velvets and expensive furs – ermine, pine marten, imported silver fox from the Russias – and most of it, Hildegard noted, forbidden him under the Sumptuary Laws. But then, who was going to bother to report him in this remote place where the cold made such protection necessary? Come to that, who would have the temerity?

Not a thread of gold among any of it, she observed. It had become her habit now to check everybody’s garments, no matter how far removed they were from any connection with Aelwyn’s death.

It turned out that Selby, despite his show, was only one whore master among several and this Master Dickson was the main man, owning several ‘houses’ up and down the coast in other ports where he employed similar fellows and one or two women. Not that the information was conveyed to them in such stark terms. It was only obvious how far his fiefdom stretched because he could not resist a little boasting about his power, with no attempt to conceal the source of his affluence.

‘I like women,’ he confided as he sat down with them in a large bright chamber overlooking the harbour and poured what happened to be an exceptionally good Rhenish into expensive-looking blown-glass goblets. ‘I’m happy to help Master Edred’s wife and children. He was a good friend to many of my clients.’ He did not elaborate. ‘The lady’s too old to work for me, of course, not the right type either, but if she can pay her rent she’s welcome to that little house at yon end. She’ll be comfortable there and can no doubt keep an eye on what’s going on by the bridge for me. I may even be able to find some work for her as I’ve recently taken over another business to support the fishermen.’

By comparison with Dickson, Hildegard judged her three companions impoverished in their threadbare habits and thin cloaks. Dickson had noted this too and made some comment about the half-starved and frozen brotherhood and that such poverty was shaming, a sure sign that monastics in general lacked common sense. ‘But then,’ he added with a kindly smile, ‘not all of them could aspire to become abbots and live in idle luxury, could they?’

He also gave a thorough appraisal of Hildegard when he thought she wasn’t looking but what conclusion he drew from it she could not guess. She gave him a careful scrutiny in return: not a thread of gold could be seen among any of his showy garments, no matter how close she stared.

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