A Mortal Bane(5)

Plainly, this client was not prepared to tell her his name or anything more than that he had come from somewhere in or around London. She had answered as she did, also naming no names, to indicate that she could be trusted, but she did not mind that he did not respond. If he came again, he would learn that secrets were generally kept quite secure by the women of the Old Priory Guesthouse. However, Magdalene had the feeling that this man was not settling in England. He had an air of “passing through” about him.

“We have been having a pleasant spring,” she said, setting her cup down on the floor beside her and looking at the design she was embroidering.

“It is colder than I like,” the man replied agreeably, resting his cup on his knee and smiling at her. “London never changes, though. Each time I come, I am surprised to find it just the same. It seems to me so large and busy a city would change more.”

“Perhaps you do not notice the changes because it is so large and busy. For example, if a street changed from housing pepperers to housing mercers, likely it would look much the same to a passerby.”

As she spoke, Magdalene rapidly made the tiny chain stitches that outlined a leaf and then began to fill it with green silk. If it had been larger, she would have chosen a darker green for the central vein and a medium color between that and the leaf itself for the smaller veins. As it was only one of many similar very small leaves on a tree, she did not trouble. Thin as her needle was and fine as her thread, there was no room for greater detail.

“I suppose you are right,” he replied and then leaned forward. “That is very fine work you do.”

“We are recorded as a house of needle workers,” Magdalene said with a smile. “That is less out of any desire to deceive than to escape having to mark the house as a stew. And that is to avoid men walking in from the street, expecting to be serviced and disturbing our clients. When a man has paid five good silver pennies for his pleasure, he does not expect to be rushed, annoyed by noise, or suffer any inconvenience.”

The guest whistled and shook his head. “I should think not. You told me you were costly, but five pence….”

“That includes lodging for the night, stabling and feed for your horse, and such an evening meal and breakfast as we ourselves take, but if the price is too much, please accept the wine as a friendly gesture, warm yourself, and go free as you came. The priory is close, will lodge you safe, and is very easy to find. Just ride down the road to the first turning to the right. Take that until you come to another turning to the right. Take that and in a few yards, you will see the gate.”

He laughed aloud. “You do not chaffer over your goods? Ah, well, you cannot blame a man for trying. No, it is not too much. I will stay.”

“I do not wish to be rude,” Magdalene said with an apologetic smile, “but you are plainly not a resident of Southwark or of London. I am afraid—

“You want me to pay in advance?” His hand went to his full purse without hesitation and he emptied part of the contents into his other hand. Having picked out the coins, he handed them to her.

“I am very sorry to seem so untrusting,” she said, slipping her hand through the slit in her skirt and finding the pocket tied around her waist, “but we see so few strangers in this house. Usually one client brings another.”

The man shrugged. “A decent inn would cost two pennies, and the companions I would find in my bed—even those with only two legs—would be less pleasant.”

Magdalene laughed. “I promise you will find no companion with more than two legs in any of our beds, and you may bathe if you like also. Your woman will help you. They are all equally skilled.”