“Judith St Clair, who had dismissed the man with a wave of her hand, turned to stare in surprise. ‘I told you who he is just now. Don’t you listen? He’s William Morgan, who’s been with me since he was a child. His father was servant to my first husband.’ ‘I … I didn’t realize he was Welsh,’ I said lamely. The well-marked eyebrows shot up. ‘Why should you? And what does it matter if he is? Have you anything against the Welsh race, Master Chapman?’ ‘N-No,’ I stuttered. ‘We do a great deal of trade... with them in Bristol. All the same,’ I added, recovering my equanimity, ‘I should like to speak to this William Morgan later on, when I’ve spoken to the other members of your household.’ She inclined her head. Whatever else she might or might not have learned in the employ of Margaret of York, Judith had certainly learned how to behave regally. The Queen herself could not have been more condescending. But in spite of that, I found myself beginning to like her.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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