Brewer's Tale, The (22 page)

Listening to Tobias explain his months away, it occurred to me how strange it was having him in the hall again. For all that I worried that we would have so much to say that nothing would be, my fears appeared groundless. It was in what was not said as much as what was spoken that, after so many years apart, we found each other again. When he described his travels, his fingers underwent their own journey, while his darkening eyes sparkled with memories clearly not suited for his younger siblings' ears.

Vaguely aware of the bells tolling compline, night stole over us. The fire was fed and the rain eventually ceased. The twins were taken to bed, more ale and wine was poured, and a tired but satisfied sense of togetherness encompassed the room.

As far as I was concerned, the only sour note in an otherwise most satisfactory day was Sir Leander. His insult still rang in my ears and I couldn't relax knowing he had charmed not only my neighbours but my servants and, as I glanced up to see the dogs at his feet again, my treacherous pets as well. Inviting him to stay for supper, Tobias didn't seek permission first and before I could think of a reason to retract my brother's invitation, Saskia and Blanche had added their entreaties. I'd only a moment to hide my dismay before they recalled they had a mistress and I was left with no other option but to importune him to accept.

Which he did. Most graciously.

There he sat on the other side of the room, concentrating on Saskia, who sat chattering beside him. Her face glowed as she spoke of her beloved home, which she'd abandoned when she accompanied my mother to England twenty years earlier. Towards the passage that led to the kitchen, Blanche and Iris sat swaying on a bench as Adam sang an old song about gallant knights and Will quietly accompanied him on his flute. Music weaved its way around the rafters, drifting out into the passage, wrapping itself around the twins and Louisa as they slept upstairs, a harmony to pleasant dreams.

It was only when Tobias nudged me that I heard my name being called. Goblets and mazers were raised.

‘To Mistress Anneke.' Adam rose unsteadily to his feet. Tobias, Sir Leander and Will hastily followed.

‘Mistress Anneke,' repeated the servants, their cheeks ruddy, their smiles almost too wide and bright. My eyes met Sir Leander's and, for the first time, his didn't slide away in disgust. Instead, he raised his goblet towards me and drank.

Heat travelled my face and while I wanted to turn away, I could not. Standing slowly, I raised my vessel in reply.

‘None of this would have been possible without you. Thank you.' I looked at each and every one of them, wanting them to know how much I meant what I said. It was the simple truth. They'd all enabled this to happen — even Sir Leander. Nonetheless, I reserved my warmest smile for Adam who nodded in return, his grin wide. Draining his drink, he picked up his tabor and began beating a rhythm. Will picked up his flute. Iris tried to coax Blanche to her feet for a dance, hauling her upright under protest. Blanche laughed as Iris began to spin her around the hall.

Through the fogginess of ale, I watched the way candle and firelight gambolled across the room, flickering over faces; the manner in which it illuminated eyes, noses and mouths while concealing other features. We hid so much from each other, presented a facade to the world upon which, fairly or unfairly, we were judged as either dark or light.

Unable to help myself, my eyes strayed once again to Sir Leander. What darkness had he seen when he looked at me?

Weary and more than a little head-sore from the earlier wine and the ale, which was stronger than I realised, I collapsed back on the bench. I tugged Tobias's surcoat and patted the space beside me. Tobias started to shake his head, shrugged, then sat heavily, his hands wrapped around his tankard, elbows on his knees, his head lowered as he stared into the foam. The pleasure that attended him earlier had transformed into something altogether different. His shoulders drooped and though there were inches separating us, it was as if a gulf had opened.

‘What's wrong?' I asked him quietly, shifting closer and bumping him gently with my shoulder.

A long, slow sigh escaped his lips. For a while, he didn't answer. The music continued, slower now. Blanche and Iris resumed their seats, panting.

‘Tobias? What is it?' I whispered.

Across the room, Saskia laughed. My head flew up and I saw Sir Leander smiling. ‘Is it your master?'

‘What?' said Tobias, rousing from his abstraction. He followed the direction of my gaze. ‘Leander? Don't be silly.'

‘Is it Father's death …?' my voice petered out.

‘Not exactly.'

‘Well, what is it then?'

Tobias leaned back and rested his head against the wall. I studied him. The way his dark hair fell across his forehead, his hooded eyes, his wide, well-shaped mouth, cheeks that weren't stubbled but bore the blush of youth upon them. He wasn't yet a handsome man, Tobias, not like his master,
his brother
, but one day, he would be.

‘This,' said Tobias, lifting his goblet and waving it before him.

Frowning, I didn't understand. ‘The house? But, I explained to you what Hiske did —'

‘Not the house.' Turning his head so his cheek rested against the white walls, he thrust his drink in my direction. ‘This. You.'

‘Oh.'

‘I'm so sorry, Anneke,' said Tobias, staring at me but, I fear, not seeing me too well.

‘What have you to be sorry for, my sweet brother?' I lifted the fist that rested against his thigh and untangled the taut fingers. ‘You're blameless in all of this.'

‘Mayhap. But that doesn't stop me being sorry that you, a Sheldrake, have been reduced to such circumstances.' He lifted his goblet into my line of vision. ‘That for the time being, you bear the brunt of Father's foolishness. I can't help but feel we shouldn't be celebrating but rather, commiserating that my sister has been forced to take such measures.' He put the vessel down on the bench between us. ‘I've been thinking about your plight ever since I found out about our financial situation. We need to find you a husband, Anneke. If you get married, it will solve everything.'

Before I could summon a response, Tobias launched into his plan, ignoring my efforts to interrupt. Did he really think I hadn't considered all that he placed before me, including marriage? Failing to notice that my arms crossed my chest and I'd put distance between us upon the bench, he continued on. I stared at the wood of our seat, noting the grain, the scratches, the place where once Karel had hefted a hot poker, scarring it. I traced the line, my nail burrowing deeper, wanting to leave my own mark. Listening to Tobias, I knew then that despite my earlier thoughts, there were some distances that could never be spanned. My brother didn't really know me at all.

Pondering this I only registered the words a moment after he finished. A smug, uneven smile upon his face, Tobias waited for me to respond.

I stared at him in disbelief. ‘Did you just say you spoke to Cousin Hiske?'

‘Indeed, I did. She called upon us the moment we arrived at Lord Rainford's house in town.'

‘How did she know you'd be there? Oh. Master Makejoy.'

‘Indeed. He organised the house to be aired and the servants prepared for our arrival. Cousin Hiske was our first visitor. She wanted to offer me condolences and —' He paused.

‘What?'

‘To warn me what you were doing.'

I pursed my lips.

‘She also told me about the offer she made.'

‘Did she?' My eyes were cold, my chin thrust forward. ‘And did she tell you what I said?'

‘She said you refused.'

‘Of course I did.'

‘Are you sure that's wise?'

Why was he being so obtuse? So difficult?

‘
Wise?
' Heads swung in our direction. The mood had altered. Blanche danced a protesting Iris towards the kitchen. Will and Adam began locking up while Saskia and Sir Leander remained where they were, absorbed in their discussion. I lowered my voice. ‘She invited me to
work
for her, Tobias, to be a servant in her house. I don't know what she told you, but there was nothing to hope for in her offer. She's twisting her words to persuade you to her way of thinking. You don't know what it's been like living with that woman, what she's done. You can't really expect me to accept, you who's so worried about the Sheldrake reputation. What would being Hiske's servant do to our dear name?' Bitterness coated my tongue. I glanced at my cup, but it was empty. ‘Tell me. What kind of husband would I find then?'

‘Servant? You misunderstood. Hiske said you did. She asked you to be her companion,'

A bark of laughter escaped.

Tobias levelled a finger at me. ‘Don't mock. It's a perfectly acceptable position for someone your age and in your circumstances. It's better than being a brewster.' When I didn't bother replying, he lowered his hand. ‘Think of the twins, Anneke. What about them?'

‘I am thinking of them, Tobias. Them and the servants. I seem to be the only one.'

‘The servants will find other positions,' said Tobias, waving his hand as if he were the king distributing Maundy coins. He brought his hand back to the bench, placing it over mine. It was warm and slightly damp. I tried to pull away but he increased pressure. ‘But you, Anneke, may not. Not if you keep up with this, this madness. Brewing's fine for a bit of sport, to keep the family in ale, but if you insist on being a brewer, of selling ale to all and sundry, it will be to your ruin.'

I withdrew my hand out from under his slowly, my eyes boring into his. With great deliberation, I wiped the back of it across my skirt.

‘You have the audacity to return home after all this time and tell me what to do? I cannot credit that you sit here and recommend to me I should accept Hiske's offer.'

‘Anneke, as your brother and the head of this family, I insist you take it.'

So great was the anger that swelled my ribs and lifted me to my feet, I swear, it was on the tip of my tongue to reveal the truth. ‘
Insist?
Who do you think you are? Good King Henry?'

All other conversations in the room ceased. The noises coming from the kitchen slowly stopped as well. I didn't care. Let them hear me. I fought to contain my thoughts, my sense of betrayal.

‘Sit down,' said Tobias through gritted teeth. ‘Standing on your dignity when you're only a brewster, for Godsakes, doesn't work with me.'

My hands clenched and unclenched by my side. A log dropped in the fireplace sending sparks into the room. Out of the corner of my eye, one of the dogs yawned and stretched, rearranging himself casually across his mate. The fever of my anger broke. ‘Stop,' I said softly. ‘Stop this before we say something we'll both regret.'

Behind me, talk resumed. Quiet. Careful.

Tobias rose on unsteady legs and I was forced to tilt my head to meet his eyes. ‘Don't be stupid, Anneke.' He brushed his hair aside. ‘I'm not asking you to do it forever. All I'm saying is living with Hiske —'

‘Working, you mean. Being her servant. The woman who stole from us.'

‘However you choose to see it. All I'm saying,' he placed a heavy hand upon my forearm, ‘is that it has to be better than brewing. If you continue to do this, then chances are, a husband won't be hard to find, he'll be impossible, and your life and that of our brother and sister will be ruined.'

Tears filled my eyes, swam through my words. ‘You're wrong, Tobias. You're wrong about everything. You've conveniently overlooked that Mother's family, the de Winters, were respected brewers in their homeland. The women and men made ale and their fortunes at the same time. Mother is the daughter of a brewer, or have you so readily forgotten? A brewer who went on to lead the Hanse.'

‘The brewer's
daughter
, not the brewer herself.' I opened my mouth to argue, but he swept on. ‘Anyhow, it's different over there. This is your home, Anneke, here,' his arm described an arc, ‘not the Low Countries, not Germany, but here. Elmham Lenn is not that big a place. And while you're here, it's not Mother's name you have to think about, but your own. You're not a de Winter but a Sheldrake, Anneke, like me.'

I curled my hands into tight fists, my knuckles turning white, fingernails impressing my palm.

‘We have to protect our name.' He swallowed and had difficulty forming the next words. ‘I have to.' What I mistook for solely the effects of ale, I now saw were tears toiling not to surface. ‘After what Father has done to us, it's all we have.'

The last vestiges of anger fled. ‘Oh, Tobias, that's not true. Not all. We have each other too.' I sank back onto the bench, pulling Tobias into my arms. He resisted at first, then held me tightly, his chin resting on top of my head. His chest heaved a few times; for all his height, his body felt vulnerable in my arms and I found myself remembering when he sheltered there the last time, after Father told him he was going to Scales Hall to become a squire. This time, it wasn't he who trembled, but me.

Shutting my eyes, I tried to think of how I could persuade Tobias that I knew what I was doing, that while I understood his concerns, he wasn't to worry. I pulled away slightly and attempted to meet his gaze.

‘Tobias, listen to me. Everything you've said, all the fears you've given voice to, I share them — every single one. But, more than anything, I need to prove I can do this.' I lifted my chin. ‘Please, give me the chance to do that. Don't stand in my way. For, if you do, you'll leave me no choice but to step away.' I cupped his cheek briefly. ‘I would rather you're beside me.'

Reaching up to sweep aside a wisp of hair that escaped my plait, he smiled and pushed it behind my ear. ‘Sometimes, I forget you're older, that while I've been having adventures, travelling the seas, training with weapons, fighting battles, buying and selling the wealth of ten Elmham Lenns, you've been here, living a life too — a life I know so little about.' His tone was wistful, faraway.