I learned little more about her or her children than which Hugh had already told me, though. William, after his initial enquiry as to the health and well-being of his family, had been more interested in politics, and most of the talk concerned the King, Marshal, and various nobles, and, of course, fighting, although I noticed there was no discussion about the fateful battle at Montgomery where William was captured.
Like a rock in a stream, I stood motionless in the bailey, while people flowed around me fetching and carrying, knowing their role and their place.
Hugh came to my rescue. ‘I will take you to the hall. Supper will not be for a few hours yet, but refreshments will be on hand, and I dare say someone will know where you are to sleep.’
I gave him a grateful smile, which he ignored. He strode quickly across the bailey and I trotted at his side, anxious to keep up, scared of losing him in the bustle and hurry, as he headed for a two-storey wooden building to the left of the keep.
Noise greeted us, a cacophony of voices, as Hugh pushed the door open. A blast of warm air carried a range of scents: unwashed bodies, candles, wood smoke, dried lavender, stale food. All the familiar smells of a great hall.
Tables were covered in helmets, gloves, short swords, long swords, shields and the various assorted accoutrements of men well used to warfare. No dignified, regal court, this castle had been built for defence, a working fortress, filled with men who knew the sharp end of a sword from its hilt.
I grabbed a cup of small ale from a passing servant and downed most of it in one long draught. Hugh had disappeared into the mass of bodies, so I found a less busy spot in a corner and settled down to watch and listen. I heard little of immediate importance; a feast in honour of William’s safe return was planned for the evening; a group of troubadours were to provide entertainment; the King had argued with the Pope.
I would come to know most of the people in this hall during the months ahead, but the one I sought was not amongst them. Eva was probably greeting her husband in their private chambers, but I suspected she would be at supper later, and from all the frenetic activity, I guessed the meal would be a feast fit for a returning lord.
Finding my gaze drawn to Hugh again and again, I watched him as he roved around the room, asking after wives and children and livestock, examining a weapon or two, exchanging stories, listening to news, and gossip, and complaints. Every man he spoke with wore a smile on his face when he left them, I noticed. Every woman followed him with their eyes after he spoke to them. A dog jumped up at him, planting paws on his chest, trying to lick his face.
I bet the birds in the trees came flocking at his call. Bringing down game must be easy when this man accompanied the hunting party, I thought sourly. I imagine stags must emerge from the trees, asking to be shot. Wild boars must lie down and roll onto their backs. Ducks—
A jostle to my elbow brought me out of my reverie, and I saw Hugh staring at me from across the hall. I glanced away, and when I looked back, he had gone.
‘My lady?’ A girl of about six or seven tugged at the sleeve of my borrowed cloak. My own had been left in the holly bush.
‘Yes?’
Her little face was earnest and solemn, her head tilted to the side as she gazed up at me. Eyes wide and inquisitive, a smudge of charcoal on her nose, honey-hued hair escaping from two braids, she was endearing.
‘Would you like a bath?’ she asked.
Would I! Those words were the best I had heard in many days. A brief rinse of hands and face in icy streams and rivers had done nothing to keep the grime and dirt of travel at bay, and I wanted to wash my hair. My tangled, dirty locks were tied in a ribbon and secured on the top of my head with tortoiseshell combs. It would take some effort to remove them.
‘Mama has given you a room next to Ardith and Lora. It did belong to old Dulcie. She was Mama’s nurse from when she was little. She was mine too, but she died.’
The child pulled at my sleeve again, and I stood.
‘Are you going to be Isabella’s nurse, only she is really too old for a nurse. You can be mine.’ A pair of wide, dark-brown eyes gazed out of a hopeful face. She had to crane her neck to look at me. Rounded cheeks, long lashes, clear skin – she was pretty and well spoken. From her clothing and what she said, I knew exactly who her mama was.
She hopped from foot to foot, then scurried in front of me, dodging and weaving her way through the hall, receiving pats on the head and indulgent smiles. I caught up with her as she darted through a doorway and up a staircase.
‘What is your name?’ I asked.
‘Lora calls me Nuisance, but my real name is Maude.’
‘Then I shall call you Maude.’
‘Good.’
I already knew something about her. I knew she was William’s second daughter, seven years old to Isabella’s twelve. I knew her father despaired of making a girl out of this tomboy of a child, that she liked dancing and sweetmeats, and hated learning French. She also displayed a good head for heights, much to William’s consternation. He did not approve of girls climbing trees. Hugh had a soft spot for this child and had told me a great deal about her. Before he stopped talking to me.
‘Here it is.’ Maude halted outside a door. We were in the keep, a rectangular building with turrets at each corner and three storeys high, plus rooftop battlements. Five doors on this floor; the nursery, a room for the children’s nursemaids, Dulcie’s room and what else?
Maude turned the handle, and the door swung open. ‘Mama ordered it to be swept and clean mats put on the floor. She said you can keep anything you want of Dulcie’s.’
Another room to myself. How fortunate. How unusual. Although, I supposed my status could be regarded as a strange one. I hovered somewhere between nobility and gentlewoman. I was not housed in the guest quarters, yet neither was I placed among Eva’s trusted waiting-women either. It seemed like Eva was not quite sure what to do with me.
‘Dulcie only died yesterday. I cried,’ the child announced.
‘Oh. I am sorry, Maude. Do you mind me having her room?’
‘She has gone to heaven to look after the baby Jesus, so she doesn’t need it anymore.’
‘Of course not.’
I liked the child’s logic. I also liked having my own room. Thank you, Dulcie.
‘Mama says she will give you a maid. She said it would be Hesta, but I know Hesta is no maid. Why would Hesta want to sleep on a pallet on the floor and help you dress? She must have been naughty, and Mama is cross with her. Mama makes me do things I don’t like when I have been naughty, too.’
Ah. No room of my own, then. I was to share with the naughty Hesta. A thought occurred to me. ‘Did your mother ask you to tell me all this?’
‘No.’ She paused. ‘I escaped.’
‘Pardon?’
‘I am supposed to be sewing.’ Maude spat the last word out with as much disgust as a man finding a maggot in his meat. ‘I heard her tell Mistress Hesta.’ She paused and bit her lip. ‘I expect Hesta is looking for you. Mama told her to keep an eye on you and to be your friend. I had better take you back to the hall, but I wanted to see you first, because Isabella is too old for a nanny and Eleanor and Little Eva are only babies, and they will not care.’
‘Go and find Mistress Hesta and bring her here. I am sure you won’t be in any trouble. She will be pleased you helped, but it may be best not to mention that you overheard your Mama talking. Just say you knew I had arrived and came to the hall to introduce yourself, and I asked you to show me where I am to sleep. You said something about a bath?’
‘I forgot. I shall ask someone to bring water.’
‘And a tub!’
‘Of course, silly,’ Maude giggled. ‘You can’t have a bath without a tub.’ With that, the child darted out of the door, her quick footsteps pattering down the stairs.
Keep an eye on me. I did not blame Eva – an unknown Welsh woman sent with the sole purpose of befriending her eldest child, by the wife of an enemy whose son her daug
hter was now betrothed to marry? I would have kept an eye on me, too.
Chapter 19
‘Mistress Hesta? I am delighted to make your acquaintance,’ I said, holding my surprise in check with difficulty. When Maude said, “maid”, I had expected a real maid, a servant, not a lady-in-waiting. Maude was right – no lady would wish to sleep on a pallet. Hesta, trustworthy and loyal to Eva, had been sent to spy on me; my own pretty, perfumed guard detail.
For some reason, I had expected the woman to be matronly, middle-aged, sour-faced, and eagle-eyed, but Hesta was none of those things. About eighteen, with dark hair gathered into a simple clip at the base of her neck, she needed no adornment. High cheekbones, full lips, large brown eyes – Hesta’s beauty was undeniable, and she had a body to match her face. Taller than me, with fuller breasts and curvier hips which swayed as she walked into our chamber, and a waist barely the span of a man’s hands, I felt clumsy and dumpy next to her. Dressed in a simple but exquisitely-cut gown, she also wore a wide smile and a circlet of fine pearls around her neck. She was definitely no ladies’ maid, although she might well serve as a waiting-woman to Lady Eva. Ladies-in-waiting were not just for royalty and were often picked from the noblest of families. More like companions and confidants than servants, they were chaperones, friends, and advisors, as well as taking care of their lady’s every need.
‘And I, yours.’ Hesta curtsied, a graceful dip towards the floor, her head inclining to show the long sweep of her slim neck. When she stood upright once more, her lips parted to reveal a neat row of white teeth.
‘I think we should share the bed.’ The words came out of my mouth, without thought.
She cocked her head, and her eyes widened along with her smile. I would bet a hundred gold coins that this girl knew the effect she had on every man she encountered. And some women, too.
‘You do not look like a lady used to sleeping on a pallet,’ I added, blushing.
She waved a long-fingered, delicate hand in the air. ‘Oh, I can sleep anywhere,’ she said. ‘You are a guest and an honoured one. You have the bed. I shall be just as comfortable on the pallet.’ Well-spoken and confident, her words were considered and friendly.
Envy did not sit well with me, but I dearly wanted to swap faces, bodies, and places with this young woman. She looked as though she had her whole life ahead of her, the world falling at her feet. She probably did, whereas I had lived several lifetimes and felt jaded and old, with nothing to look forward to and nothing in front of me; all of it was behind.
‘I am sure we will become firm friends,’ she said. ‘I will introduce you to Lady Eva and Lady Isabella before supper. I understand you have already met Maude.’
Did I detect an undercurrent when she said Maude’s name? I hoped the child would not be in trouble.
A pair of scullery maids arrived with a large wooden tub, and several more appeared with pails of heated water. Steam curled as they poured bucketful after bucketful, and the depth in the tub rose steadily. A servant hung another pail over the fire to heat, and then left. I waited for Hesta to depart.
‘I shall help.’ She rolled up the sleeves of her burgundy gown.
‘No. Thank you all the same, but I can bathe myself.’
‘Nonsense! Let me undo your stays, and I can add more water when this has cooled.’
She put her hands on my shoulders and spun me around, deft fingers reaching for the ties, undoing them, and slipping the dress off my shoulders. My instinct was to push her away, but I stood still and let her undress me. I had a part to play. Lady Joan would not send a commoner to befriend her future daughter-in-law; she would send a noblewoman of significant status, high-born and not a servant, one of her own ladies-in-waiting perhaps. A woman well used to having servants perform more menial tasks, even if she herself undressed and bathed Lady Joan. Lady Caitlyn would be comfortable being ministered to by a servant, and would be happy being bathed. I had to remember to pretend to be a lady who was used to being waited on.
Naked, I stepped into the tub, conscious of Hesta’s scrutiny. I didn’t bear any marks of having carried a child in my womb, but I had other scars aplenty, and I wondered what she made of them.
She had strong hands, and I lay back with a contented groan as she worked lavender scented soap through my hair, massaging my scalp until I closed my eyes in pleasure.
‘Ow!’ I sat up suddenly, splashing water across the floorboards.
‘I’m sorry.’ She did not sound it as she tugged at my knotted locks with enthusiasm. ‘These will take some working out.’
By the time my hair hung in a straight dark sheet down my back, I wanted to slap her. My head was sore and my neck ached, but at least my hair was tangle-free, and when she had finally finished, I stood, droplets cascading back into the tub.
‘You travelled with Hugh of Pembroke?’ she asked. Her off-hand tone did not disguise the keen interest behind the question.
‘I did.’ I kept my voice steady, although my heart leapt at his name.
‘How did you find him?’ Her enquiry was couched in indifference.
‘Pardon?’ I rubbed my pinkened body with a rough scrap of material, drying it off before I donned some clean linens.
‘How did he seem?’ She turned away, playing at being busy, folding a damp cloth.
‘I don’t know him well enough to comment on his demeanour, though he appeared pleasant.’
‘Oh, he is pleasant,’ she said, and I sensed some annoyance.
Hesta dug around in my bag and held up first one bodice, then another. I didn’t have many. She grimaced at the selection and chose a blue one, laying it out on the bed while she found a clean chemise. I reached for it, intending to dress myself, but she pushed my hand away, so I allowed her to put it on me, glad she couldn’t read my ungrateful thoughts.
‘He is liked by most people,’ I said into the ensuing silence, guessing Hesta might be one of those who liked him. More than liked him.
‘Yes, he is.’ She pursed perfect lips. I winced as she pulled a tie too tight and my breasts threatened to overflow their bounds.
‘Did you talk much on your journey? Hal said you did.’ She pulled another tie, and I grunted. No matter how hard she pulled, my waist would never be as small as hers.
Hal? I searched my memory. Oh yes, one of the soldiers captured alongside William. ‘A little,’ I admitted.
‘Did Hugh mention me?’
‘No.’
Another pursing of the lips, together with a small frown. ‘He does not like discussing personal matters,’ Hesta said.
This time I anticipated the tug and steeled my ribs for the onslaught. He hadn’t minded discussing Margedd, and one cannot get more personal than what he did to her. Nor she to him.
‘Deep down he is a private man,’ Hesta added. ‘The public face is merely for show. He only talks of me with his true friends.’ She shot me a glance to see if her barb had pierced my flesh.
‘When are you to be married?’ I asked. It was a mean question, but I didn’t care.
‘We have not come to a definitive agreement on the date.’ More pursing and frowning, this time accompanied by a narrowing of the eyes. ‘I hear you are unmarried.’ She paused. ‘At twenty-three.’
Unmarried at my age suggested I was damaged goods, that no man would wed me. How did she know my age and marital status?
‘My husband died.’ I stuck to the same story I told Hugh.
‘Oh, I am sorry. Are you in the market for another?’
Obviously, she had not “heard” the whole story.
‘I may be,’ I said, purely to annoy her, though why she felt threatened by me was a mystery. Unless… she had tried to pin Hugh down, and failed. Although I didn’t know anything about her, she apparently had some wealth. Lady Eva must think highly of her and I guessed she was a decent catch, even if she wasn’t in possession of such beauty. Had Hugh rejected her? Or had he done a Margedd on her… loved her and left her?
His rejection must h
ave baffled Hesta, too. She must wonder why he hadn’t fallen at her feet, why he didn’t beg her to marry him. I wondered, too.
Now I understood the other reason why she was happy to play my maid – she wanted to keep an eye on me just as much as Lady Eva did, but how she came to think Hugh had any interest in me was baffling.
Dressed, my waist somewhat slimmer than usual making taking a deep breath nigh on impossible, I regained some composure. The blue of my bodice picked out the same shade of cobalt in the embroidered flowers on my skirt, and a ribbon tied the plaited ends of my hair. I would never match Hesta for beauty, but at least I felt groomed and suitably clad for being presented to the wife of the wealthy and powerful Lord of Abergavenny.
I followed Hesta as she led the way to the floor below, and with no more time to think, she opened the door and ushered me inside Eva’s solar, and I came face-to-face with the woman I was to murder.
Eva fluttered her fingers at my curtsy, rose from her chair, and placed her embroidery on a nearby table, before walking towards me with both hands outstretched. I took them in my own, and she leaned forward to kiss me on the cheek.
‘I am delighted to have you visit. It was so thoughtful of Lady Joan to send you. Isabella is eager to meet you. She will join us shortly.’
I paid close attention to this woman. I had to earn her trust, and I intended to do that by gaining Isabella’s. William’s wife had to feel comfortable around me, however long it took. No hint of accusation was to be laid at my door when she died, no rumours or suspicions that I had played any part in it. But I didn’t think I would ever feel comfortable around her. Not when I intended to kill her.
Eva, at twenty-nine, was slightly older than me, and petite, like me. Her dark hair, hidden under a simple veil and held in place by a jewelled circlet, was a similar colour to mine, and her eyes were grey like mine, though hers had a greener hue.
Caitlyn Box Set Page 63