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“Ah, yes. Of course.” He glanced at Tadhg warily, then pushed his door open and bustled them inside and went about his shop, lighting candles and oil lamps. He threw open the shutters and Tadhg immediately stepped back, out of the spill of white winter light. Edwin turned back, clapped his hands together and smiled at Magdalena.
“Now then, Mistress Thread, you mentioned business…?”
“Yes. The business of paying me for work past done.”
His face dimmed ever so slightly. “Past payments, Mistress Thread?”
“Yes. For the hosen order I sent to you at midsummer?”
His head tipped back. “Hosen, hosen,” he murmured, as if the word was new to him and he needed practice with it. “I don’t recall….”
“For Lord Ionnes, here in town?”
He smiled blankly at her and spread his hands wide to illustrate the overwhelming emptiness of his memory.
She stared at him. How many times had she been treated thusly, with no recourse? A great, great many. Far too many to count. From the moment of her birth right up to yester eve, when Bayard had said, “I want this thing” and the soldiers had said, “Give it to me,” and Sherwood had said, “You have no choice.” But she did, in fact, have a choice. She did have recourse.
She had Tadhg.
She smiled at Edwin. “My apologies, master, I do not think I have introduced you.” She gestured to Tadhg. “My new collection man.”
Silence, then leather creaked as Tadhg turned and stared at her.
“Your…collection man?” Edwin said uncertainly.
“Yes.” She intercepted the level look Tadhg directed her way, but ignored it. After all, he had abducted her… Turnabout should be expected. “You may not believe this, Master Edwin, but I’ve had many troubles of late with unpaid bills.”
A few beats of uncomfortable silence passed as Edwin stared at Tadhg. “I’m shocked,” he said weakly.
“I’m sure you are. Now, perhaps if you cast your mind back to midsummer, you will recall the order?”
He stared at Tadhg, who, the stubborn beast, finally took his gaze off Magdalena and turned it to Edwin.
A bead of sweat seemed to trickle down Edwin’s temple. Then he clapped his pudgy hands together. “Yes, of course, of course, it is all coming back to me now. Rushing back.” He gave a hearty, false laugh. “Twenty hosen, for Lord Ionnes’ knights, if I recall?”
“I should hope you would, as I just mentioned it.”
“Well, it was wonderful work, mistress, wonderful.”
“Yes, I know.”
He cleared his throat. Her calmness seemed to be as unnerving to him as Tadhg’s silent stare. “Well, Lord Ionnes went a-hosting soon after your order arrived, joined the king’s men down south he did, and what will all the warring…and the weather… They were successful you know, praise God, and…” He cleared his throat. “Did I not send word?”
“No.”
“Ah. It must have slipped my mind.”
“It was delivered over six months ago, payment due upon receipt.”
“Has it been that long?” he inquired brightly, then tugged at his collar. “My, how the time passes.” His glaze flicked to Tadhg. “And now you are here to…collect?”
“Yes.”
The silence was thunderous.
Edwin began sweating in earnest. “Of course, of course, just give me a moment, let me see.” He reached beneath his counter for a ledger, then began fumbling through it, thumbing page after page. “I don’t believe I have record of…but certes, I must…. Let me see, perhaps an older ledger—”
Tadhg laid his hand atop the pages, smashing them gently down. Edwin stopped fluttering and stared down at the hard, calloused hand spread across his ledger.
