Sumerford's Autumn

by Barbara Gaskell Denvil

  “Silly puss. She’ll have nothing to do with it,” Ludovic said. His fingers slipped down, both his arms embracing her closely, lifting her a little against him; his own promise of reassurance. Her eyes, deep green in the shadowed angles, gazed up beneath moist lashes. Her body, thin and shivering, seemed absurdly vulnerable, a fledgling bird in his arms. Through the shapeless broadcloth of her gown, he touched the prominent rise of her backbone and ribs. Without thinking he bent and put his mouth to hers, and kissed her. For a moment it was little more than comfort, but then something changed and became imperative, and what had been buried then surfaced. Her lips parted to his, and Ludovic felt an immense and passionate relief, as if everything he had ever wanted was about to be answered.

  The kiss deepened. He tasted her breath, heated and surprised, against his tongue. She neither pulled away nor reacted with anger, yet did not return his ardency, as if she had no notion exactly how to react. Ludovic wondered fleetingly whether she accepted him because she wanted to, or simply as the local lord with every right to do with her as he wished. So he held her tighter, abandoning caution.

  “If,” said the voice behind him, “you wish to indulge in these sordid little assignations, I wish you’d leave word at the house and avoid having the entire household alerted to search for you. Our dearly beloved father is near dead of heart failure, and I’ve been dragged back with the expectation of attending your funeral.”

  Ludovic whirled around and stumbled, nearly falling, gripping the table for support. The girl remained crushed within half an embrace. “Damnation. What now?”

  “Behold – probable damnation indeed, my dear,” said Brice. “And I really must object, little brother, to your choice of venue. This place stinks of rancid bacon and piss.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Naturally, you may do as you wish,” the earl said with deliberation. “I have never interfered with my sons’ intimate appetites. I simply desire to know if this was a genuine attack, or a badly disguised tryst. Every guard, constable, soldier and servant has been scouring the countryside for you, night and day. I have been unable to sleep and your mother has driven me to distraction. And you were then discovered in bed with a trollop? The same trollop who, I am told, was previously involved with Humphrey, and has since attempted to cause trouble by accusing him of raptus.” The earl played with his large ruby thumb ring, staring beyond it towards his youngest son. “I must inform you, Ludovic, I am not well pleased.”

  Ludovic bowed slightly. “My apologies, sir. But you are mistaken on several counts.” He was standing, slightly bent and in considerable pain, before his father’s high backed chair. The earl sprawled comfortably, legs stretched to the fire. Ludovic regarded him with polite contempt. “The attack was indeed genuine and there was no tryst, disguised or otherwise,” he continued quietly. “In fact, I was ambushed. Presumably by outlaws. I had allowed myself to become somewhat detached from your hunting party since I do not enjoy your riotous slaughters, as you well know. The – attackers – used battle honed bodkin points and since I was obviously not wearing armour, these did considerably more damage than an ordinary hunting arrow. I was unhorsed and knocked unconscious by the fall.”

  “And where, may I ask,” interrupted his lordship, “did this astonishingly fearsome and daring robbery take place? Did your murderous assailants follow up on their attack? Bludgeon you into disclosing your purse? Presumably strip you of your furs, horse and weapons?”

  “As I am quite sure you know perfectly well, sir, my horse galloped off and made its own way back to its stable,” said Ludovic patiently. “Its riderless return was no doubt the initial indication of alarm to the household. Anything of value was in my saddle bags, and so remained safe from theft. Luckily, the men seemed uninterested in my clothes and boots. I was left unconscious but alive.”

  “How – fortunate,” smiled the earl.

  “On opening my eyes, I crawled to the shelter of the watch tower, which was nearby,” Ludovic continued. “I was able to abstract the arrow from my leg, but nothing else. And I can only say, if all your people were already searching for me by this time, sir, they did a very poor job.”

  “Remarkable,” murmured his lordship. “I never realised we had such inept outlaws in my forests, nor in fact, any outlaws at all. Nor such inadequate, blind and feeble minded servants and sheriffs. Indeed, it seems I am surrounded by a whole county of astonishing incompetents. But forgive my interruptions. Naturally you interest me. Do go on, my boy.”

  “Indeed.” Ludovic swayed slightly, but rebalanced himself. He had not yet seen the apothecary. The summons from his father had pre-empted surgery. “It was pure luck,” he said, increasingly faint, “that the girl, sister of the apprentice groom lately killed by your destrier, was searching for mushrooms and – heard me.”

  “Heard you?” The earl smiled slightly. “You were presumably moaning piteously. My condolences.”

  “She was able to offer some medical assistance and later on she returned with blankets and ale,” said Ludovic with fading patience. “Once I was able to walk, being nearly dawn by then, she helped me back to her own home, which was comparatively close by. I was still there when Brice discovered me.”

  “Your brother has already informed me of the exact circumstances under which he found you, Ludovic.” The earl nodded. “You need not dissimulate.”

  “I have no need to do so,” Ludovic said. “The girl and her guardians fed me and treated my injuries. They are poor people, more so since the death of the boy, but they were kind. I have frequently received less generosity from those of my own class, and I was grateful. I was certainly not discovered in bed, either alone or in company. The kiss Brice witnessed was simply in gratitude for the girl’s generosity.”

  “Generous indeed,” murmured his father.

  Ludovic straightened his back. “This girl, as you obviously know, was previously employed here at the castle. Her accusation of assault by Humphrey appears to have been an innocent mistake. She was certainly never illicitly involved with him yet was unjustly dismissed from her employment here. It is possible that I now owe her my life. I have promised to find her work in the castle again.”

  The earl raised an eyebrow. “Indeed? Because she is your mistress?”

  “Respectfully sir, that is utterly absurd. I hardly know the girl.” Ludovic glared. His father did not seem particularly intimidated. “I merely intend fulfilling an obligation. The family is destitute, and the girl saved me.”

  “Well my son, you had better go and get yourself attended by the mediks,” decided his lordship, stretching comfortably. “Otherwise it seems you may expire at my feet. And since your young female is no longer present to salvage your life and limb, you might even breathe your last and ruin my new Turkey rug. Unfortunately, I am far too tired to exert myself or help you in any particular manner, having been kept up all night with fruitless worry.”

  Ludovic was put to bed, objected strongly to being bled having already lost a good portion of whatever quantity of blood he usually enjoyed, refused to answer the doctor’s astonished questions on unravelling the strips of chemise bandages, and demanded a continuous and plentiful supply of spiced wine. He then told Brice what he thought of him.

  “To carry tales to our father!” Ludovic said in fury. “I would have thought better of you than that.”

  “Calm yourself, little brother.” Brice sat on the edge of the bed, smiling gently through the shadows. “I carried no tales, I only passed on information. Indeed, I considered it amusing. I cannot be held accountable simply because our dear papa has no sense of humour.”

  “That may sound benign.” Ludovic sank his head back thankfully on the heaped pillows. “Yet you were dragged away from whatever secret business you were engaged in at the time. It seems more likely you reacted in temper and spite. You know perfectly well that our beloved lord and master has no sense of humour whatsoever, and never in his life laughed at anything except someone else’s misfortu
ne.”

  “Not dragged back, my dearest. Came willingly.” Brice patted his brother’s hand lying limp on the thick squirrel fur coverlet. “I returned home to find the place in an uproar, with my little brother believed dead and dismembered by ravening beasts. I dutifully set out to discover the corpse, and instead found you in dalliance with a strumpet. Quite a disappointment, as I’m sure you must realise. A gory death would have been so much more interesting. Boredom, you know, is my ever-conquering foe.”

  Ludovic smiled. “I shall attempt to entertain you more extravagantly next time. But not a strumpet, big brother. Kindly get your facts right and refrain from exaggeration. She’s a perfectly respectable young woman, quite personable under the circumstances, and – extremely good natured. I believe she saved my life.”

  “A saint then. I revise my opinion.”

  Over the following four days, Ludovic gradually attempted to organise his three promised charitable operations into some slow and hesitant progress. The success of these ventures was, however, unsatisfying, and his lordship was in no position to either check on results or instigate the necessary next steps.

  During this time he lay in bed, was barely able to rise or stagger as far as the garderobe, and quickly developed a worsening fever. The apothecary prescribed vervain, comfrey and rosemary boiled in hemp-water. This appeared to do no good whatsoever, although it was properly distilled during the night of the full moon and stirred thoroughly while Jupiter was at its zenith.

  The chief medik declared himself deeply concerned, begged to bleed his lordship once again, dodged the candlestick promptly flung in his direction, and departed with his fleam. He reappeared that evening in order to redress and re-stitch the injury to Ludovic’s thigh, and discovered it to be swollen and infected. He lanced the wound and inserted a small rod, keeping it open for prolonged drainage. Ludovic became slightly delirious. He was vaguely aware of a continuous avalanche including a few family visitors, scurrying servants and dutiful doctors, all more or less eager to pat his sweating brow and listen to the nonsense he was unaware of speaking. He slept very badly and drenched his bed in perspiration.

  His mother clasped his hand with dutiful if limp affection. Ludovic noticed that her lip was swollen and her jaw bruised, and decided that his father’s mood had not improved. He told his mother of his need to find employment for the girl who had saved his life, and asked her ladyship to speak to his sister-in-law Jennine on the subject. His mother did not seem to understand a word he was saying. Always uncomfortable with sickness and possible infectious miasmas, she kept rigidly distant and left soon after.

  Ludovic next spoke to Humphrey, who was a more regular visitor. “Alysson. Good girl,” muttered Ludovic. “Like her. Need to do something. Ask Jennine.”

  Humphrey smiled widely. “Yes, Jenny’s a good girl. Glad you noticed. Glad you like her. Nice and plump and pink. Mother said I’d be pleased with her. Didn’t believe it at first. But she’s right. Pleased as cockle shells. Mean to keep her.”

  Ludovic sighed. “But she has only one female to wait on her, Humph. Must need more.”

  “I don’t want ladies waiting around,” decided the Lord Humphrey. “Got a wife now. Happy with her. Just been trying to explain it to you. You’re not listening properly, Lu. You want ladies, you go find your own. Besides, Papa says you’ve got more than you should have already.”

  The invalid received few other useful visitors. The Lady Jennine naturally did not make improper visits to her brother-in-law’s bedside, her brother and his wife had departed north, and Brice’s secret business now reassembled. Brice promptly departed. He left word that he would be gone for a month or so, expecting to return only for the Christmas season. Gerald also remained absent and was assumed to be in London.

  Twice Ludovic awoke from dark dreams with a whispering perplexity in his ears, and a hovering light that danced before his eyes. Haunted by memory, by yearning and by fever, it seemed only natural to be haunted also by wraiths. He could and would not answer, and closed his mind against such visions.

  After some days, Ludovic was still confined to his bed. “Another week, at least, my lord, or I cannot answer for the consequences,” whispered the castle medik. “Indeed, far longer may be necessary. A month perhaps.”

  “You are obviously quite insane,” Ludovic informed him. “Any more than a few more days is absolutely inconceivable. Do whatever you have to, short of amputating my limbs or bleeding me empty, but get me back on my feet.”

  Through the distinctly unwilling services of the steward, Ludovic managed to send a purse to the cottage in the forest. Without present access to his own far larger and far more secluded coffers, he was able to send only two sovereigns, but was confident this would be sufficient to buy several new gowns and shifts, and additionally feed the girl and her nurses for some considerable time to come. Ludovic could barely hold the quill and the accompanying message was of necessity vague. “Injuries deteriorated. Unable to come myself. Will organise employment soon. L.S.” Besides, Ludovic was not at all sure if the girl could read. He therefore added only a brief post-script. “No sign yet of your brother.”

  The search party sent to look for the small Pagan Welles was complicated by even greater confusion. No one, including Ludovic himself, knew exactly who they were looking for, nor why.

  From temporary lucidity, Ludovic lapsed into fever again as his wounds continued to fester. The shutters in his chamber were kept constantly closed and the windows fastened tight against the insidious danger of entering atmospheric airs or autumn freeze. A blazing log fire was lit across the wide stone hearth, and kept consistently fierce. Troops of pages were sent to ensure the heat was contained and that no treacherous draughts were permitted to enter. The heavy bed curtains were also kept drawn, and within their deep sweltering shade, his lordship sweated copiously. The newly weaned alaunt puppies were excluded from the chamber as the promised week of further inactivity became ten days.

  His father, although an infrequent visitor, was the only one who seemed edified by the inarticulate nonsense inspired by his youngest son’s delirium. Indeed, although he considered himself far too busy to spend time dawdling at the sickbed, the earl appeared quite pleasantly entertained each time he left the chamber, smiling contentedly but secretively to himself, in spite of the fact that Ludovic lay partially unconscious.

  Sumerford’s autumn turned towards winter and the last leaves fell.

  In the meantime, to his considerable regret, Ludovic’s own private and well concealed business affairs were inevitably left utterly unattended. His previously arranged appointments were either entirely forgotten or unable to be fulfilled, and he had access to no one at all he could trust to take a message. What was more, the passage of the days became increasingly confused in his mind and one heated hour blurred into consecutive fevered nights. He did not know either day or time. He once asked the doctor what the date was, but was told he must not worry himself on matters of irrelevance while his life was in danger. The doctor further suggested that the priest be called, but Ludovic suggested that the doctor and priest could both go to hell together.

  Under such circumstances, it was therefore not surprising that a particular stout gentleman of dubious appearance remained lurking, in spite of the bitter weather and inclement season, in considerable discomfort and nervous agitation beyond the huge shadows of the castle walls. The gentleman often peered surreptitiously past the great gates and raised portcullis to the outer courtyards and their well-guarded Keep, and trod the less well patrolled confines of the extended gardens, all in the hopes of seeing Sumerford’s youngest lord before being discovered and hustled away to gaol himself.

  The meeting which had previously been arranged, had been missed, which was unprecedented. His lordship had not come. Nor did he come the following day. He did not appear at all, and no message was sent.

  Captain Clarence Kenelm regarded his very short and pugnacious companion, and spoke softly but distinctly. �
�You’ll have to be the one to do it, lad,” he said, shaking his head. “Can’t be me, you’ll see that I reckon. Gotta be you. Wait till full dark, but be quick about it, and if they sets them hounds on you, don’t tell them it was me as sent you.”

  The boy stared back in blatant disgust. “Oh yeah, I see that all right. Clear as a lateen sail in a bloody gale,” he objected. “Sounds proper fair, don’t it! Can’t be you ‘cos you might get caught. Don’t matter if I’m caught. So you reckon I’m wittol-headed? Well, I got news for you mister. I ain’t that stupid. And I ain’t going.”

  The larger man cuffed the boy soundly around both ears. “Snivelling little brat,” he muttered. “Chuck you overboard one day, I will.”

  “Might as well,” sniffed the boy. “Don’t do me no bloody good slaving for you, that’s for sure. And now without his bloody lordship, we can’t even catch the bloody morning tide.”

  “Which is why you gotta get into that there nasty cold castle, stupid little bugger,” persisted the captain. “We got sheepskins stinking out the bilges, and rats chewing their teeth flat as a gallows noose on the bloody ropes, but no coin at all for supplies. And now half the crew’s threatening to hop it. We needs his lordship. ‘Tis bloody urgent. So bloody get in there and tell him.”

  “It’s you as must have buggered up the days,” the boy accused, increasingly sullen. “His lordship don’t never forget nuffin and don’t never get befuddled neither. You’ve gone and got your bloody meetings stirred backwards, I reckon. So you go and sort it out. And see if you likes getting your arse chewed by them great big dogs.”

  “Listen to me, you snivelling little doxy-prick,” seethed the captain through the gaps between his teeth, “If you don’t go, I shall have your bollocks boiled with onions for my supper. And what’s more, you’ll sleep up top of the mizzen mast all the way cross the bloody German Ocean till we gets to Flanders, and I hopes the gulls shit in your hair. An’ I hopes we has bloody raging thunder storms, too. So you’re pissing scared of them great big dogs, is you? Just you wait and see what I does to your arse, if you don’t obey my orders. You’ll be proper sorry your mother ever put you to her tits, you will.”