“Theodosia. Stop. Now.”
She ignored her mother and carried on, Fitzurse still rapt. Still with his sword ready.
“But when Thomas and the King quarreled, Henry wanted us back under his supervision, and control over Thomas to keep his secret.”
“What secret would that be?” said Fitzurse.
“Us!” Theodosia burst out. “Mama is Henry’s true wife, and I am his daughter. All he wanted was to keep us safe. By a terrible, terrible sequence of events, Thomas is dead, and three of your companions. Can you not see, Sir Fitzurse? We are all on the side of the King.”
“Indeed I see,” said Fitzurse with a slow nod.
She’d done it. Theodosia took a rasping breath.
“I see,” continued Fitzurse, with a cold, suppressed smile, “that you have absolutely no idea what mission my knights and I are on.”
“What?” Theodosia’s gasp was echoed by her mother.
His look hardened. “You think it’s to keep you safe? You, my dear, can think again.”
CHAPTER 26
Palmer hitched his own bundle of newly bought clothing onto one shoulder as he went with Edward through the market. The rough woolen black jerkin and breeches, and white linen undershirt, hadn’t cost Edward much, for which Palmer was thankful. He hated to be in debt to anybody, let alone this superior monk. What’s more, Edward may well have handed over that woman’s coin as part of the payment. Palmer vowed to himself to repay the monk, no matter how long it might take.
Edward stopped before a stall hung with women’s clothing and gave them a displeased frown. “Why is it that women have such a desire to dress so brazenly?” he said.
Palmer looked at the items on offer. A couple of green skirts. An embroidered head cover. Yellow woolen stockings. Kirtles in red and orange. “They’re not brazen, Brother. They’re the usual choices for women.”
“Precisely.” Edward sniffed. “The usual choice to turn against nature and disport themselves as elaborately as possible. Present as an occasion of sin.”
“It’s not against nature,” said Palmer, annoyed by the monk’s ideas. “God creates color and finery wherever you look.”
“Such as?”
“Birds. Like peacocks. Colors far brighter and richer than anything we see here.”
“Yet which sex has the colors, Palmer? The male. The female is a modest brown, remember. She draws no attention to herself whatsoever.” He raised a finger to emphasize his point. “God’s message to us is consistent. It’s a shame that so many fools and ignorant lost souls refuse to listen to it. You have a lot to learn, my boy.”
The last time Palmer had been spoken to like this, his voice had been a lot higher. He itched to put the monk on the floor, but if they didn’t move on, they’d be here all day. “We need to press on with Th — Sister Theodosia’s clothing.”
Edward looked at the stall again and sighed. “If only we had time to get her a new habit made up. But our boat sails tonight. We’ll have to make do with something from here.”
Palmer looked around at nearby stalls. His eye lit upon a cream overdress, with a matching embroidered belt. Its fine hue reminded him of her pale, pure skin. Perfect. He nudged Edward. “What about that one?”
Edward followed the line of his pointed finger and frowned. “Have you gone mad, Palmer?”
Palmer dropped his hand. “Of course not. But if we can’t get her a habit, the least we can do is make sure she looks like the daughter of a king.”
“She is the daughter of a king,” said Edward sternly. “The daughter of the king of heaven, Jesus Christ himself. We will find her something that reflects that status. Now, come. There is nothing suitable here.”
Humiliation chewed at Palmer’s innards as he followed Edward. The monk had absolute control over this decision because he had the money. All he, Palmer, could do was follow like the penniless churl he was.
Edward stopped before a dank cave of a shop. “Ah. This is more like it.”
Palmer’s heart sank. A couple of drab, grayish kirtles hung from a hook.
A grimy woman came out from the gloom inside. “Help you, Brother?” she asked rudely.
“May I see that one, mistress?” Edward took the offered dress from the woman and held it up to examine it. “A good choice. It will keep the sister’s modesty.”
Palmer raised a hand to feel the quality. Made of the roughest cheap wool, it scraped under his touch. “I think we could find better.”
“I disagree. Remember, I am paying, not you. This will suit our purposes exactly. How much is it, goodwife?”