Read Silken Threads for Free Online Page A

was Joanna. You have a cat
named
—
” he frowned as if trying to remember
“
—
Pieretta? No, Petronilla. And she has a brother who’s
shy, but I can’t remember his name. Your husband is a silk merchant
who spends most of his time abroad. He sleeps down here instead
of...” He looked away awkwardly.
    Heat bloomed in Joanna’s cheeks.
    The man on the cot said, “That’s all he told
me, that I can remember. I don’t know what else I can say to
convince you. I know you’re afraid of me, and you don’t want me
here. As soon as your brother comes back, I’ll leave
—
I
just can’t make it out of here on my own.”
    Joanna regarded him for a long, thoughtful
moment. He met her gaze steadily, although it seemed he was having
trouble focusing on her. His face, beneath its smudges of dirt and
half-grown beard, was the face of a young man, carved with
distinguished planes and an appealing symmetry. There was something
earnest and direct about his eyes, despite the drunkenness that
made them waver slightly. True, his brown riding tunic was filthy,
but it was a tunic of good quality
—
as were his belt and
boots.
    “Who are you?” she asked.
    “They call me Graeham Fox. I’m an
Englishman, but I serve as serjant to a Norman baron.”
    Joanna set the axe and lamp on the bench.
“What brings you to London?”
    He turned his head on the pillow, raking a
hand through his lank hair. A gold signet ring glimmered on his
index finger. “I was just passing through on my way to
visit...kinsmen.”
    “Where are they?”
    After a moment’s pause, he said,
“Oxfordshire.”
    “How did you happen to find yourself in West
Cheap?” She moved a little closer to the bed.
    “I was looking for an inn.”
    “Most of the public inns are outside the
city walls.”
    “I didn’t want to have to worry about being
out and about when they locked the gates at curfew.”
    Joanna contemplated his distended leg
uneasily. “That must hurt.”
    “The wine helped...for a while.” Until she’d
hit him with that axe handle.
    “I’m sorry.”
    He smiled disarmingly. “You handled yourself
rather well, I thought. I was impressed.”
    She couldn’t help but return his smile. “Are
you hungry? I bought two eel turnovers at the cookshop. You may
have one if you’d like.”
    He shook his head. “I fear I’d never keep it
down after all that wine. Thanks all the same.”
    The back door opened. Joanna heard footsteps
and the voices of men advancing down the hallway adjacent to the
storeroom; one of the voices belonged to Hugh. She rose and met him
in the doorway.
    “Joanna!” Hugh lifted her off her feet and
swung her around. “I’ve missed you.”
    “I’ve missed you, too.” She kissed him on
his scratchy cheek, noting with an indulgent smile that he still
wore that heathen earring. “And I’ve been worried about you. Thank
God you’re home.”
    “For the present,” he said carefully.
    Her mood, so swiftly elevated, plummeted
abruptly. “Of course. For the present.” She nodded toward Graeham
Fox, watching them from the cot. “Still bringing home strays for me
to fix, I see.”
    Chuckling, Hugh told Graeham, “She never
could resist a creature in need. How are you?”
    “Reeling drunk.”
    “Glad to hear it.”
    Someone cleared his throat. Hugh stepped
aside to let a stocky man of advanced years enter the
storeroom.
    “Joanna,” Hugh said, “do you know Master
Aldfrith?”
    “By sight and reputation.”
    Joanna attempted to introduce Aldfrith to
Graeham Fox, but the surgeon interrupted her with a brusque string
of commands. “More light! Clean water! And clean linen, if you’ve
got it.” He shook his head disgustedly. “Wish I had my assistants
with me, but they’re in Southwark tonight, squandering their pay at
the stews and most likely catching the pox in the bargain. You two
will have to do.”
    Hugh lit a horn lantern off the oil lamp and
hung it from a ceiling beam while Joanna fetched a bucket of