The Marsh King's Daughter
“'I grew up here.' 'Indeed?' Nicholas raised the eyebrows of a vastly interested guest. 'And have you always lived here, Mistress Willoughby?' 'No,' Robert answered for her, waving an expansive hand. 'She was wedded to a good friend of mine in Nottingham, but after he died, we came to courtship and then marriage -and love her dearly I do.' He smiled benevolently at Miriel. 'Her kin that dwelt here died and, as sole heir, she inherited last year. We divide our time between here and Nottingham, do...n't we, my dear?' Miriel smiled wanly. 'Yes, Robert.' Jesu, she thought, I sound like my mother. Her legs were shaking so badly with shock that it was a relief to sit down at the trestle and let Samuel pour wine into the silver-gilt cups.
'How many ships do you have, Master Nicholas?' she asked with a bright and brittle smile.
'Four for the nonce.' He rubbed the side of his jaw with his thumb. 'A fifth is due to join them soon, and I have a fleet of barges running from Boston up the Welland and Witham, carrying supplies inland.' 'You have made your fortune then.' She took a nervous gulp from her goblet and was shocked to find it down to the dregs already.MoreLess
'How many ships do you have, Master Nicholas?' she asked with a bright and brittle smile.
'Four for the nonce.' He rubbed the side of his jaw with his thumb. 'A fifth is due to join them soon, and I have a fleet of barges running from Boston up the Welland and Witham, carrying supplies inland.' 'You have made your fortune then.' She took a nervous gulp from her goblet and was shocked to find it down to the dregs already.MoreLess
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