burial site for him. They didn't have money for a burial here. Hopefully, her mother's family would help.
'Lads,' Elizabeth said, ''urry and 'itch the ox to the wagon. Mum, let us get Father downstairs before sumeone sees.'
Elizabeth checked the hallway and stairs. There was apparently no one in the inn. She looked out the window to the back of the inn and saw that innkeeper tending to some animals in the pasture. She and her mother lifted their father between them with his arms over their shoulders. He was heavier than Elizabeth had expected, but they managed to 'walk' him down the stairs and out the side door of the inn.
There was no one in the courtyard and they carried him in the same way to the wagon. The boys helped them lift him into the wagon. They leaned him against the side of the wagon in the same position that he had occupied the entire trip. Elizabeth was about to climb into the wagon when she looked back at the inn and noticed with alarm the tracks that they had left in the soft earth. Two pair of footsteps with two long grooves in between where his feet had dragged led to the wagon from the inn. She quickly grabbed a nearly empty bag of potatoes and dragged them to the inn and back to erase the marks.
At last the wagon pulled slowly away from the inn and pointed toward Nottingham. The innkeeper came into the courtyard at about that time and watched as the family moved along the Nottingham road.
As they neared Nottingham and when her brothers were out of earshot, Elizabeth turned and said to her mother, 'Mum, I am with child.'
'You are with child?' asked her mother with excitement. Her excitement was short lived and was tempered by the realization that Elizabeth no longer had a husband. 'Elizabeth, you must nay tell anyone. Promise me,' urged her mother.
'Well, I will nay be able to keep it a secret for very long,' observed Elizabeth with a smile.
'Elizabeth,' replied her mother in a serious tone, 'you do nay 'ave a 'usband. People do nay take kindly to a woman with a child and no 'usband.'
'I do 'ave a 'usband,' Elizabeth replied quietly, but with some force. Her brothers were closer now, so the women spoke in hushed voices.
'And where is 'e then? Maybe 'e is in the wagon with your father.' Her mother felt sorry for saying it as soon as the words had escaped. But, she felt that she needed to cause Elizabeth to accept that Richard was gone. She also was pained that she was now alone.
Elizabeth sat down inside the wagon and faced the other direction, burying her head between her knees to hide her tears.
'I am soory, me luv,' offered her mother. 'Please forgive me.' Elizabeth didn't respond. ''ow long 'as it been that you are with child?'
Without lifting her head, Elizabeth replied that she wasn't certain, but that it wasn't long.
''ow 'ave I nay not'iced, me child?' asked her mother.
'You culd nay not'ice, Mum, you 'ave been caring for Father. I am fine.'
Chapter Ten
November 1437
Boston, England
Richard surveyed the window that he had been working on for the last several days. The window was completed and it was magnificent. It was large enough that it required metal bars to be attached for reinforcement. He had just finished adding the bars and the window would be lifted into place the next day. This window told the story of Moses leading the children of Israel out of Egypt. Richard wasn't even sure where Egypt was, but he loved the story of God's power.
The work had gone well for Richard at St. Botolph's in Boston. He got along well with the Master and the other glaziers. He had found a small lodging that would work well for he and Elizabeth for now. The rooms were in towne, near to the church and the Glazier shoppe. They were on the second floor of a two story building that was also connected to other buildings. Richard had never lived in towne and was finding that living in such close proximity to others didn't suit him well. It would have to do for now though.
Richard did however enjoy living near to the River Witham. It was a tidal river that ran next to St. Botolph's and emptied into the North Sea. The river was the means of much trade moving through Boston. Richard enjoyed the solitude that walking near the