‘Should I destroy it, my lord?’ she asked him in a fading voice.
‘No, you must keep it as proof of your sending.’
‘Should we need proof?’ She widened her eyes.
He shook his head in irritation. ‘Who knows? Maybe? When was it despatched?’
‘Around Compline so as to take advantage of the night.’
His lips curled a little. ‘Very good.’ He lowered his voice to a more intimate level. ‘We might also take advantage of the night, mistress?’ As if acknowledging that he had gone too far he moved briskly away. ‘I shall keep you informed. God save Sir Simon.’ He walked off into the crowd.
TWENTY ONE
Hildegard approached the ostler’s by a back route of winding alleys and laups and slipped into the stable yard only after a good look along the street. De Lincoln was nowhere in sight. She asked herself why it mattered if he knew she was going over to Clarendon. It was nothing to do with him. He did not necessarily know for certain that she had a daughter and that she was a damozel in the countess’s household, did he? And even if he did, it could not matter.
With the prickly feeling up her back that, even so, she was being watched she rode out onto the street after a brief transaction with the ostler. His only remark was, ‘By, you’re busy. I never expected to see you back so soon, domina.’
And then she was on the Laverstock road and riding hard towards the palace.
It was a picture of tranquillity as it lay in the sunshine on top of the hill at the end of a long, tree-covered ridge. Its many buildings, well-maintained and shining white, formed pleasing shapes against the bright green of the surrounding deer park.
When Hildegard entered through the West Gate she was conducted to where the countess was holding court in the gloriette, a pretty stone built pavilion within the walled precinct. It had been built for Queen Eleanor and was sumptuously adorned with tiles of blue and gold, the walls echoing the same shade of blue.
Ysabella was standing beside the painted chair of the countess and looked white-faced. When she heard her mother announced she shot her an appealing look but remained where she was as she had been trained to do. Hildegard greeted the countess and then turned to her daughter.
‘Are you well, my dear? You look pale. Have you been ill?’ She turned to the countess.
‘You may talk to her in private, domina. I fear we have had a little falling-out. Go, child, tell her your side and then I’ll tell her mine.’
With a gasp of relief Ysabella ran to her mother’s side and whispered, ‘This is disaster, mother. I can’t tell you what a terror I’m in.’
Taking her to sit on a bench under the great window Hildegard took hold of both her hands and kissed them. ‘Tell me.’
‘I am to be betrothed. It’s to that horrible man who came up to us when we were dining and spoke to us about mothers. He has asked for me and the countess deems it a proposal I cannot refuse. Please help me. I cannot marry him. He is so old and so - so un - so false. I cannot marry him. You will not agree?’
‘Of course I will not.’ Hildegard had gone cold. It was clear whom she meant. ‘When did he make his wishes known?’
‘Yesterday. He rode in late in the day shortly before nightfall and went straight in to see the countess. I was dismissed but after they talked for a good hour she recalled me and told me point blank what was being suggested. I at once said I was not ready for marriage but he gave me a weird look and said he thought I was very ready indeed. Oh, mother, please say no. I cannot bear the thought of his hands touching me - ’
Hildegard hugged her murmuring, ‘No, it is impossible. He is not the husband for you. Let me speak to the countess.’
‘She is implacable when she wants something,’ Ysabella warned. ‘When she feels thwarted she will have her own way. You have only seen her kind side. She is determined to make me marry him.’
‘Not if I have anything to do with it.’ Hildegard got up and went over to the dais where the countess was surrounded by her maids. Seeing Hildegard’s expression she waved them all away out of ear shot.
‘Well, I see from your face that you have heard her side and sympathise with her but let me put it to you another way.’
‘Please do,’ Hildegard invited. Her heart was thumping in a way that surprised her. She had thought of herself as cool under any danger but somehow this was different. It was her own daughter’s happiness at stake, her freedom, and possibly her life.
She took a deep breath, sat down on the bench indicated by a queenly flourish of the countess’s white hand and prepared to listen to what she had to say.
‘As you remarked when you visited us before, families rise and families fall, especially, I would add, in these uncertain times. For that reason, I assume, you wish to delay your daughter’s betrothal. I understand that. However, one of my guests, a man of good standing, lately in service to the House of Lancaster, has made a most promising offer. It is my opinion that you, a femme sole as it were, albeit a Cistercian in an Order for which I have the utmost respect, have rather meagre resources of your own which is as it should be for one of your calling. However, you will naturally want to provide an easier and more comfortable life for your own daughter.’
Hildegard returned her piercing gaze without flinching.
The countess continued. ‘I am told on good authority that our friend de Lincoln will shortly inherit lands in his own part of that county. His family are prosperous landowners close to your part of the world and my dear Ysabella, for whom I have a mother’s love, will enjoy a life of security with such a liaison. They are not politically in danger from any faction. De Lincoln has expressed his distaste for the present troubles and is here in connection with his family’s manorial interests, and hopes only to lead a useful and prosperous life.’ She touched Hildegard on the shoulder. ‘My dear, I feel you would eternally regret refusing such a suitor.’
‘The wishes of my daughter are important to me. If she feels she cannot accept him, whatever his alleged virtues, than I will stand firm with her.’
The countess drew back. ‘Are you opposing me?’
‘With regret, madam.’
The countess drew her lips together in a tight line. Two spots of high-colour appeared on her cheeks.
‘When you allowed your child to be taken under my wing, the agreement was that I should stand in loco parentis. As far as I am aware that agreement has not been revoked.’
Conscious that the countess had some rights in the matter Hildegard spoke as mildly as she could.
‘My husband, now deceased, made the arrangement. As woman to woman you will surely agree that we cannot be bound by men’s dealings. They often have a secret purpose of which we women are left in ignorance. Now that we two women, you as you rightly say in the role of mother to my child, and I as birth mother, are not constrained by the machinations of our men-folk we are free to do the best for this dear child. On those grounds I beg you to listen to her most deep and ardent wish not to be betrothed to this man who, I might also point out, is far older than any girl of her tender years could ever find attractive.
‘Attractive? Since when has the passing fad of attraction been of any relevance? That way folly lies, domina. Perhaps your sequestration in a nunnery has given you an exalted view of romantic love? I can assure you, practical concerns are the only ones that are relevant here!’
She flicked a wrist at one of her damozels standing over with the others. ‘Fetch me wine!’
She turned back to Hildegard. ‘This matter is not finished. I’m weary now. We’ll meet later. I will not be moved.’
‘Perhaps you would prefer me to ask for her release from your care?’
‘I would not! I suspect you would never be able to redeem her wardship. Not on my terms.’ Gesturing to the girls to come to her aid she was soon surrounded by a fluttering group who helped her into a privy chamber adjoining the gloriette.
‘Damnation and take all to hell!’ exclaimed Ysabella as soon as the
countess was out of hearing. ‘How dare she! Just because her husband was a cold-hearted braggart and she lived her life in hell while he was alive she imagines that should be the pattern for every marriage.’
Stifling an immediate response, because this so exactly described her own experience of marriage, Hildegard was determined this should not be her daughter’s fate. She hugged her and whispered, ‘All is not lost. We will find a way through that will not mean you will be pledged to a man you cannot love and respect. Nor will your refusal mean that you are cast into the outer darkness of being unadmitted at court.’
‘Court? Since when have you given a fig for court?’
‘We must think of all sides to this. Be assured, I will not accept de Lincoln for you. He is not a man I would trust whatever the countess says. I have some very deep and personal reasons for refusing him. It may be that I will have to reveal them to the countess if she persists in her plan. Come, let’s go and sit outside in the garden and decide what to do next.’
They found a shady seat on a camomile bank underneath a pear tree from where they had a good view of anyone entering the garden through the wicket gate. One or two entered and strolled about in the distance.
Hildegard turned to look at her daughter. She was very pretty today. Defiance had brought a flush to her cheeks.
‘Tell me, Ysabella, when did you last see de Lincoln?’
‘He left this morning, claiming to have urgent business in Salisbury. To make himself sound important.’
That would be to ensure his gold had been despatched, Hildegard assumed. ‘So does he know you’re my daughter?’
Ysabella stared at her mother with puzzled eyes. ‘But of course. He must have been told. He would presumably have done some ferreting around to find out more about me - ’
‘And yet he did not mention anything of his intentions when I saw him this morning.’
‘You have spoken to him?’ Ysabella looked astounded.
‘Yes, I have, on another matter.’
Wondering whether to take Ysabella into her confidence Hildegard decided that it might be too dangerous for her to discover how deeply her own mother was involved in the plot to free Sir Simon Burley from the Tower. To be accused of working against Gloucester’s corrupt justices would condemn her as a traitor and the full penalty could be exacted. Better to remain silent for now. She could not alarm Ysabella with such matters.
The young squire whose presence made her daughter blush was partly visible across the garden. He had appeared shortly after they arrived and appeared to be giving close study to some roses.
‘Hadn’t you better call him over?’ Hildegard suggested, glancing across the garden.
‘Who?’ Ysabella blushed again and feigned innocence.
‘Does he know of de Lincoln’s proposal?’
‘Of course. It was he who suggested I send for you.’
‘I’m flattered if he imagines I can do much about it,’ Hildegard remarked dryly.
Ysabella got up and went over while Hildegard watched the two heads, so similar in fairness, bent together among the roses and thought sadly of life and how cruel it can be. They walked back towards her, laughing in the heedless way of the young.
‘My lady,’ Ivo gave a deep and perfect flourish. When he raised his head his eyes were like two stars. ‘This is an honour for me.’
‘And for me too, master Ivo. I thank you for the gift of lavender. I assume you were the courier?’
‘I was indeed. If it’s not too presumptuous, my lady, may I congratulate you on your riding?’ He turned to Ysabella. ‘Your mother rides like the devil. I could scarcely keep up.’
‘You brought the sign we agreed and for that I’m right glad,’ replied Hildegard. ‘I need not ask your opinion on this proposal from de Lincoln. Be assured I shall do what I can to thwart it. It will not happen. That does not mean, however,’ she paused, ‘that I condone another suitor in his place - not yet.’
Her warning brought a seriousness to his expression that softened Hildegard’s heart. These young had their emotions written on their faces.
‘We shall talk about such matters some other time,’ she continued. ‘When I go in again I shall put an argument to the countess that she will not be able to dismiss so easily.’
Ivo shot Ysabella a look that plainly showed his feelings for her. Calf love, registered Hildegard. Maybe it would last another day, another week, a year, but would it last a life-time? Everything was in the hands of fate.
Feeling shaky at the precarious nature of her daughter’s future amid the dangers to be encountered she made her way back inside the palace and was eventually conducted in to see the countess.
She was reclining on a day bed in her privy chamber with a view from a long window across the outer wall towards the deer park. The Roman road could be seen between the trees heading towards the Salisbury road. A lone traveller was riding away from Clarendon just now and she saw that the countess might have observed her own arrival alongside a Cistercian monk on that first day. Despite this the variegated green of the many trees had a calming effect on Hildegard’s unravelling nerves although it did not deflect her from what she intended to say.
The countess gestured towards a seat. ‘We can talk here.’ She leaned forward and, despite their privacy, lowered her voice. ‘I know something about out friend which I am sure you know also. For you it means refusal. For me - for the same reason - acceptance.’
‘I cannot embroil my daughter in such matters without her full understanding of them. Then it will surely be up to her whether she wishes to be involved.’
‘Fair enough. But we have talked much during the years she has been with me. I know her mind. I know her heart...I know her beliefs, domina.’
‘I don’t doubt that. But if you know her as well as you say you do you may find that she refuses on other grounds, ones that will not impugn her loyalty to the one who above all commands devotion.’
The countess subjected Hildegard to a long, silent and searching look. ‘Let me understand this as a reference to her infatuation with my ward?’
She knows I was referring to King Richard, thought Hildegard, but she held her tongue on that score and instead replied, ‘Please do so if it suits you. It may be as short-lived as the life of a gad fly but even so - ’
‘We might use it as a way of extricating her from an unwanted change in her life?’ The countess raised her eyebrows.
‘Quite so.’
‘I have my friends at Westminster,’ the countess continued. ‘They keep me informed. Sometimes they tell me such vivid stories I feel I know what is going on as if I were there myself. I heard about events after the autumn parliament the year before last when de la Pole was impeached at the time of the threatened French invasion. London was on high alert as indeed were we all. You yourself were in London at that time, I believe? There was great violence in the streets, they tell me. Great and barbaric violence,’ she added meaningfully with a wave of one hand as if to encompass spy-master Medford, the plot against the king, and the life and death of Rivera in the one small gesture.
Hildegard was silent for a moment. If the countess knew about Rivera what else did she know and was she hinting she knew about de Lincoln’s part in Rivera’s death too? If so, from whom had she gathered this information? From de Lincoln himself? Were they allies? Or was it from Favent?
‘I trust that you are aware that our mutual friend once wore Bolingbroke’s colours?’ Hildegard asked, watching the dowager’s face and knowing she was risking much.
‘He has explained that to my satisfaction, domina.’
‘And that he was also a participant in a specific act of barbarism during the unrest?’
‘At the time of the October Parliament, yes, when London was under threat of invasion. He has explained that to my satisfaction too.’
‘So you understand the grounds for my personal objection to this – suitor?’
The dowager countess’s eyes were full of sadness.
‘It grieves me much to hear you confirm what I heard.’ She paused and looked off into the distance, away to the outside world. ‘You almost persuade me to see how repugnant this match would be to you personally, domina. But then, it is all the more reason to have eyes and ears where we want them.’ She turned and raised her eyebrows.
‘We shall never agree on this.’
‘Let it rest for a while. We can plead youth. I see no reason for him to be in a hurry to marry.’
‘Not unless he sees it as part of some bigger plot.’
The countess had no expression on her face now and Hildegard, feeling suddenly chilled, rose to leave, saying, ‘I have pressing business in Salisbury. Two murders within a week. I have information for the serjeants.’
‘Then we will let this present matter take a more leisurely course. Tell me,’ she asked as Hildegard made her way to the door. ‘How is it you arrived here so propitiously? I hadn’t even had time to call my scribe to write to you.’
‘Call it mother’s intuition?’
The countess’s lips twisted in a sceptical smile. ‘I may call it that, indeed, domina. And if so, I may call it anything then.’
TWENTY TWO
For all her calm appearance Hildegard’s mind was in turmoil. Why did she object to having her daughter recruited as a spy? Ridiculous question. But it lay there like a challenge to everything she believed in.
She tried to think back to when she had been fourteen like Ysabella. She would probably have jumped at the chance of doing something important if it could save the king from the plotting of his enemies. She would have plunged in if the chance had arisen.
Ysabella would no doubt prove to be as reckless.
Danger would add spice. To save the king! It was a noble purpose. What higher destiny could there be? And yet, this was her daughter, her beloved child. She dare not allow her to be put in danger. She must prevent it.
The Scandal of the Skulls Page 19