'Sister Alice is not a nun.'

'Oh.' Margery looked surprised. 'I'd been told she was in holy orders.'

'No, Mother. Alice has not taken any vows.'

A look of satisfaction appeared on his mother's face and Harald felt foolish. He'd fallen for one of her old tricks. She'd say something she knew to be untrue. You'd correct her and, before you knew what was happening, you'd divulged everything she wanted to know.

Margery walked back towards the house and Harald followed.

'The Lamberts used to have money but that's all gone so there can be no question of marrying her. In any case, your father has found a wife for you in France.'

'I thought we'd agreed that a French marriage was too risky.'

'That was when we were losing. We're winning now that the Duke of York has taken control. They say we'll be back in Paris by Easter.'

'Mother, the talk is about the appalling cost of the war.'

'I thought it was paying for itself. Your father isn't complaining about lack of funds. He's doing very nicely.'

'Father is doing very nicely because the Duke of York put up the money for the latest campaign. He did so on the understanding that he'd be paid back and that hasn't happened.'

'I know nothing about that.'

'No, Mother. But it's no less true.'

They detoured to avoid a puddle.

'The duke's commission ends in April,' Harald continued. 'There's little chance he'll take a second term and that will place Suffolk in command. He's in with the Beauforts and they want nothing more than to make peace.'

'Harald, you do speak such nonsense. You should read your father's letters. He's there … he knows what's going on.'

They reached the external stairs that led up the side of the old house to the apartment where his mother had her lodging. Harald followed and entered the porch at the top. He regarded the outside stairs as an anachronism, a primitive hangover from the past. If he got his way, they'd be removed and the doorway converted into an oriel window.

His mother's companions were nowhere in sight. Harald guessed the women had taken up residence in the new guestroom. With luck he'd be asked to add an entire new wing to the manor, complete with modern amenities and proper furnishings.

His mother went to a chest and removed some papers.

'Here are the latest of your father's letters. He has found a wife for you. She is the daughter of his loyal friend and companion-in-arms, Henri de Maupassant.'




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