“So they’re shut out?”
“Not anymore. They broke back in, and put their own lock on again, and held their meeting. Stubborn fool,” said Archie, meaning Mr. Kay. “A man should ken when he’s been beaten.”
Barbara had asked, “Would ye ken it, d’ye think?”
Now, some two weeks later, Lily found herself relating that exchange in full to Matthew.
They were at the harbor as before, but this time Maggie had been left at home and only Henry stood with them alongside Matthew’s horse and cart while waiting for the boat to land his next cargo to haul.
It was a raw day, and the late December wind swirled down the Shore in gusts that twisted Lily’s skirts and tore her misting breath away, but Matthew kept his body angled so his shoulders blocked the worst of it.
“And what did Archie say to that?” he asked her.
“Nothing.” It was not uncommon, Lily knew, for Archie to let Barbara get the best of him in conversations, and she said as much to Matthew.
“Aye, well, she still wants to watch her step.”
“She thinks he will not harm her.”
“I think she’s too trusting,” Matthew told her. “Like yourself.”
“I’m not.”
“There’s some would see you standing here with me and Henry,” he said, “and think otherwise.”
That brought a grin from Henry. “Me? I’m harmless. And I’m hungry. D’ye wish anything from the pieman?”
They didn’t, and Henry went off on his own up the short way to the stall where the pieman was selling his wares. He’d been doing a brisk business earlier, given the number of soldiers and seamen about, getting ready to ship off to Flanders, but now it was nearly dusk. There were but few red coats clustered about, and the smaller boats carrying men and provisions between the large ships and the Shore weren’t so thick on the water. This would be the last cargo Matthew need carry before he could end his day’s work and return cart and horse for the night to the Kirkgate.
The horse, growing weary from standing so long in the cold, raised a protest, and Matthew moved round to the animal’s head, speaking low words of calm reassurance.
“She’s bonny,” said Lily, as she came to join him. She offered her hand and the mare nuzzled into it, blowing warm breath. “What’s her name?”
“Lennet.”
Lily thought that inadequate, given the mare’s glossy bay coat and soulful eyes. “Surely they could have done better than name her for one of the plainest of birds.”
Matthew scratched the mare’s neck. “Nothing plain about a lennet.”
“It’s a small, brown bird.”
“Aye, maybe so.” He looked at Lily, and he seemed too close. “But when it sings, its song strikes to your heart.”
He held her gaze a moment, then he smiled and looked away.
She thought of Barbara saying, “Give him time,” and wondered how much time she ought to give him—whether it was time to speak and tell him of her feelings, or if she should simply wait, or…
“Stay here,” Matthew said. His voice had changed and grown more wary. “Watch the mare.”
His own eyes were on Henry. At the pieman’s stall, two soldiers had approached him and were talking to him. Matthew started walking up toward them.
Then one soldier grabbed at Henry’s arm and held it fast, and Matthew started running.
By the time he reached the stall, the pieman had come round to try to intervene, to no avail. At first it seemed that Matthew only meant to talk. He stood with outward calm and sought to set himself between the soldiers and his brother. But the soldier holding Henry would not let him go, and then the other took a swing at Matthew, and it came to blows.
What Lily saw next left her shaken. It was swift and it was brutal. Pushing Henry safely to the side, Matthew flashed over into someone she had never seen—a ruthless man. A man of violence. Neither soldier saw it coming. Both of them regretted it.
One stumbled past her with a bleeding face and one arm hanging strangely. His companion took a while to stand at all.
When he did, although a few red-coated soldiers had come to assist him, they found themselves confronting not just Matthew on his own, but a fierce gathering of Leithers—mostly Matthew’s fellow carters, but some mariners as well—who’d seen the fighting and were slowly filing in to form a line along his back.
Lily watched while Matthew squared his shoulders, and she watched his bloodied hands form once more into fists.