Hearing Beiste whining at the door, Elsbeth hurried to let him inside again. He nuzzled her hand with a wet nose as he reentered the guesthouse.
Shortly afterward a young monk came bearing a tray with two small bread trenchers filled with hot oat cereal, and a goblet of cider. “The duke says he will be with you shortly, my lady,” the monk addressed Adair.
He drew a large bone from his robes. It was yet thick with scraps of meat. “For the animal,” he said, and offered the bone to Beiste, who took it from the young man’s hand, even allowing the monk to pat him. Then the monk hurried off without another word.
“Do not get your gown stained with food,” Elsbeth warned as they began to eat.
They devoured all the hot cereal and ate every bit of the stale bread trenchers, sharing the cider between them.
“Who knows when we will eat again this day?” Elsbeth said. When they had finished she quickly packed up the few things she had unpacked the previous evening.
Richard of Gloucester arrived, and was pleased to see them ready to depart. “How pretty you look, poppet,”
he complimented Adair. “Crimson is a color that suits you, as it did your mother.” He knelt so they might speak face-to-face. “Now, you will remember to make your parents proud, my lady Countess of Stanton. You will behave with grace and dignity no matter the situation. Some at the court are high-flown with reason. Others have little reason. Your mother always spoke gently no matter, and you will make me proud if you do as well.” The duke slipped a little gold ring with a tiny green stone from his smallest finger. He placed it upon Adair’s middle finger. It just fit.
“My gift to you, my lady Countess of Stanton. I will see you again soon.” He stood up and spoke now with Elsbeth. “The queen and her household will remain at Westminster for a few more weeks until all is finally settled. It is safer. Make certain Adair reminds the queen publicly of her promise to Jane Radcliffe. Elizabeth Woodville is most careful of what she considers her good name and good word. And my brother, the king, will not deny Adair. He is an honorable man. You may not see him for several weeks, for we are yet mopping up pockets of Lancastrian resistance. I have assigned two of my own soldiers to escort you to Westminster. You should reach there by late afternoon today.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Elsbeth said. “I do not know how we would have managed without your kind inter-vention.” She curtsied to him. Then she handed him her money pouch. “This is my mistress’s fortune, my lord.
You wished to put it with the Jew in Goldsmith’s Lane,”
Elsbeth reminded him.
“You managed quite well yourself, mistress,” he complimented her. “I am amazed you got this far without incident. You are a brave woman.” He took the pouch from her. “You have counted it?” She nodded in the affirma-tive. “I will place it with the banker,” he told her. Then, turning away from her, he picked the little girl up. “I must go, Adair. Be a good little maid, and I will see you soon.
Will you give your uncle Dickon a kiss, poppet?”
Adair wrapped her arms about his neck and kissed him twice on both of his ruddy cheeks. “I will give you two kisses,” she told him. “One for now, and one for later to remember me by.”
Richard of Gloucester chuckled. “I can see you are aminx,” he told her as he set her down. “You must not be so free with your kisses with anyone else but me, my lady Countess of Stanton.”
“Will you come to see me?” Adair asked him, her young voice anxious.
“I will visit with you each time I am at court,” he promised her. “Now go and bid Prior Peter farewell, and thank him for his hospitality,” the duke said. He set Adair’s cape about her shoulders, pulling the hood over her dark head.
Adair curtsied to him, then took Elsbeth’s hand, and they hurried off to find the cleric before terce began.
Beiste walked by Adair’s side, carrying the large bone in his jaws. The prior was just breaking his fast, but he received his two guests. Adair thanked him nicely for their shelter and the food he had given them.
“And Beiste thanks you too for his fine bone,” Adair said sweetly.
Prior Peter looked at the great dog. He was a fine animal, if perhaps a bit scrawny. “The dog wants fattening up,” the prior remarked.
“He has had to hunt for his food as we journeyed,”
Adair explained.
“Indeed,” Peter Neville said. “Come now, child, and kneel. I will give you my blessing.” He looked to Elsbeth. “You, too, woman! You’ll both need my prayers.”
And when they knelt before him he prayed over them and blessed them.
“Thank you, my lord prior,” Adair said, rising, and she kissed the cleric’s outstretched hand. “I hope you will remember my parents, and the good folk of Stanton so grievously slain, in your prayers. They were good people.”
“I will pray for them, child,” Prior Peter promised.
Outside of the prior’s dwelling they found their horses and two men at arms awaiting them. They helped Adair and Elsbeth to mount their animals, and then with Beiste alongside them the little party departed the monastery and turned in the direction of Westminster.
They rode for the next four hours, and then stopped to rest the horses. The prior’s cook had packed a basket of delicate foods for the two women. The soldiers carried oatcakes and strips of dried meat for their own fare. After an hour they were on the road again, and by three the towers of Westminster came into sight. The duke’s men knew exactly where they were going, and brought Adair and her companion to the queen’s dwelling within Westminster’s vast compound as the darkness fell.
