by June Francis
‘Perhaps I am not myself,’ said her mistress breathlessly, collapsing on the bed. She lay there, her eyes shut, getting her breath back. Her head ached.
‘What do you mean?’ There was a scared note in Rose’s voice.
‘The old Philippa Cobtree would never have behaved as I have in the last few weeks … but she had never been in love.’
‘Mistress Philippa, you’re frightening me! You do remember who you are? You aren’t … mad?’
‘Perhaps I am — a little.’ Her eyes opened and she looked up at Rose’s worried face. ‘Oh Rose, you have dreams, and so do I. You told me that Master Guy is going to Kent. I want to see him. I want to go home, where perhaps … lies an answer to my dilemma. As Philippa Cobtree I can’t go, but as Rose Cobtree, maybe I can.’
‘But there isn’t a Rose Cobtree! You made her up!’ Philippa gave her a searching look, but kept her thoughts to herself. ‘Who is to know? No one here.’
‘Master Guy knows.’
‘Ay, but he isn’t here, and will not be returning for some time. He goes south, as I wish to go. I consider that Sir Hugo could be persuaded that it is necessary for my sanity and happiness that I be returned to Kent — and who better to take me there safely than his brother?’ Rose gasped. ‘You are mad! He’ll know it’s you.’
‘Of course he will! But what if I take the pretence a little deeper? My memory is so uncertain, and I have had such a bad time lately, that he might be persuaded that it is better for me to go with him. Maybe, too, there are certain events I could remember: that there was something between us? Something delightful!’
‘What of Sir Hugo? What of him, if he finds out I am deceiving him? You do expect me to deceive him?’ she asked, suddenly angry.
‘Oh, Rose!’ Philippa rolled over on her stomach and propped her chin in her palms. ‘You can’t deceive me! You have fallen in love with him, so make the most of playing me. And, who knows … ’
‘You ask too much,’ Rose declared mutinously. ‘Playing him for a fool, that’s what you are doing! And I’ll be your scapegoat when it all comes out. He’ll have me beaten, that’s for certain. He’ll despise and hate me for tricking him.’
‘Do not be so sure! I saw the way he looked at you.’
‘That’s only because he thinks I’m his betrothed,’ retorted Rose, her colour deepening.
‘Nonsense! You are pretty, much prettier than I. He is half in love with you already. The angels are on our side. Persuade him that it would be good for me if Rob took me to Guy — and home!’
‘Angels! More like devils,’ moaned Rose. ‘We’ll burn in hell for such wanton, deceitful behaviour.’
‘Don’t say that! Never say that!’ Philippa’s voice shook, and her face took on a terrified expression.
Rose stared at her, and pitied her. ‘No, I won’t,’ she reassured. ‘I didn’t mean it.’
She drew in a deep breath. ‘We aren’t doing anything really wicked,’ she whispered.
‘No.’ Rose patted her shoulder. There had been real fear in her eyes! ‘It’s not an unforgivable sin.’
Philippa gave a low laugh. ‘You must wear my betrothal ring. He is bound to notice sooner or later that it is missing. And, Rose, I shall give you your freedom when this is all over. Or now, if you will still go through with it!’ Rolling over and reaching beneath the pillow to take out the ring, she gave it to Rose.
For a moment the maid stared at it on the palm of her hand. ‘There’s no changing your mind?’
‘No.’ Philippa took an unsteady breath. ‘Once you put that on, there is no going back.’
‘You will give me my freedom — and set down the truth of this deception?’ She moistened her mouth.
‘You may ask Sir Hugo for writing implements. I trust you not to renege on our agreement.’
‘What of clothes?’
Philippa put her hand under the pillow and drew out a handful of silver buttons. ‘They were my father’s. You remember?’ Rose nodded, and her throat went tight. ‘We shall divide them — and the clothes. Sir Hugo should be able to sell the buttons for you. In all honesty, you can tell him that all we had was destroyed. Our gowns have been given to us.’
‘You are generous.’
‘No, I have begun to see life in a different way. You will speak to Sir Hugo about my going with Rob?’
‘Ay!’ Rose eased her shoulders. ‘I shall go now, but a prayer would not go amiss, Mistress Philippa.’ She put the ring on her finger and was gone.
Philippa stared after her, and smiled tremulously. If the angels were on her side, soon she would see Guy.
Chapter Eleven
Sir Hugo was annoyed. Rose could tell that even from this distance. Her heart sank, and she came to an abrupt halt. What if she could not persuade him to allow her mistress to go with Rob? Would Philippa change her mind about all she had promised? Sir Hugo was leaning on his stick as he walked stiffly round the pond. Ducks sailed busily, their quacking as they delved for tasty morsels of food the only noise to be heard on the still morning air. She gnawed at her bottom lip. If she really were his betrothed, what would she do? For a moment she stood still, then bracing her shoulders and tilting her chin, she sallied forth.
He did not look up at her coming, but gazed over the pond. A deep breath, and, ‘Sir Hugo, please forgive my cousin — but most of all forgive me for letting her bother you. The blame is all mine that you should be vexed with me, but she so much wanted to see you, thinking you would be like your brother and that the sight of you would jog her memory.’ She gazed soulfully up at his stern profile.
‘My brother?’ She had startled him into speech. ‘Why should she think that I would remind her of Guy? Or that it would bring her wits back?’ He glanced down at her, met her eyes, experienced a drowning sensation as he was held in their greeny-gold caress, and had cause to clear his throat. ‘There’s nothing to forgive. Rob said it was to be expected after such a fall. Even so … ’
‘Even so, you had matters to discuss with me — and my — my cousin prevented such a discussion.’ Rose had not lived close to Philippa all her life without knowing every inflection in her voice, and the words she would use. ‘Perhaps, now we are alone for a short while … Not that I shall be able to stay out here long. My cousin needs my attention, even though I find her company irksome.’ She allowed her hand to rest on Sir Hugo’s sleeve. ‘But what can I do? If there was a way of transporting her to Kent, I would that it could be done!’ she added recklessly, deciding to go straight to the heart of the matter.
‘You would?’ Sir Hugo was slightly bewildered by her rapid speech, and overwhelmed by her closeness. There had been few women in his life since Catalina, and none remotely as pretty or compelling as this woman, whose breast pressed against his arm.
‘I would,’ said Rose dolefully. ‘Can you not think of a way — so that we can spend some time alone to know each other again?’ Now she was in it, up to her ears, she thought uneasily, but there was no other way of doing it, except wholeheartedly.
‘A way?’ He would that he could! The thought of spending time in getting to know his betrothed better appealed to him mightily!
‘A way,’ she repeated, wondering if she would have to put every word of Philippa’s plan into his mouth. He seemed stunned by what she had said. Had she gone too far? There was no drawing back now. Her fingers toyed with the silver buttons in her fitchet, and she dreamed of the fabric she could buy to make into a gown to be beautiful for him.
‘There is a way,’ Sir Hugo said suddenly, making her start. ‘Not that I’m sure that Guy will like it — but then he shouldn’t have gone off so quickly without waiting to see me. Not the sort of behaviour one expects when one’s considering favouring him with a reward. Despite wrongs done in the past,’ he added darkly, bewildering Rose utterly, who knew only of the disputes between the brothers concerning peasants and sheep.
‘You mean, by asking Master Guy to take her to Kent?’ She gazed up at him with wide-eyed ad
miration, choosing to ignore the last part of his speech.
‘You think it will serve?’ He beamed down at her, delighted to bathe in her obvious adoration.
‘Perfectly!’ She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, then started to retreat, but he caught her to him and kissed her soundly. Her eyes were filled with stars when they drew apart. ‘I must tell my cousin,’ she said huskily, then turned and ran as if her life depended on her getting away from him.
‘You have the agreement safe?’ asked Philippa, pulling on her gloves.
‘Ay! In the chest in the turret room,’ replied Rose, impatient for her to be on her way to Master Guy; only then would she believe that the plan could really work. What was it that made her mistress … no, not her mistress, since she was now a freewoman. The agreement said it was so. What was it that was in Kent that made Philippa believe there was a way out of this tangle? Questions she had asked, but had received no reply, only ‘Wait and see.’
‘You must hurry. Rob is waiting and Hugo might still change his mind.’
‘Hugo?’ Philippa laughed. ‘You have become close to him!’ But Rose’s words were enough to send her hastily out into the courtyard where Rob waited with the little baggage she possessed, now that it had been divided.
‘You will return?’ hissed Rose as she handed her a napkin with some food in it. ‘If all goes well, that is?’
‘I shall come back, whatever happens, cousin,’ she smiled wanly. ‘Pray for me.’
‘For all of us.’ Rose blew a kiss as the horse began to move.
‘Safe journey, and God grant that all goes well with you,’ called Sir Hugo, his arm going around Rose’s shoulders.
‘Amen to that,’ whispered Philippa before putting an arm about Rob’s waist. They passed under the arch of the gatehouse and headed for the distant fells.
Guy eased his shoulders. He had been on his feet all day and was tired. The last of the sheep had been shorn, and the fleeces sorted and bundled. In a couple of days he would go with the wool-train. Two weeks earlier, he had left Philippa at Hugo’s manor, and he would have liked to have prayed that they were pleasing each other. He scrubbed at the dust on his cheek, staring across the meadows towards the fells. When he had told her to forget, she had asked ‘Will you?’, and he had thought he could, once he was home again and working. Perhaps, in another woman’s arms, he might. There were women aplenty in London and Calais — not that he had sought their services. Instead, he had concentrated his energies on working and saving the money from the fleeces, hoping to possess this land one day. He had no mind to give it all over for a woman! Doubtless Hugo would be angry that he had not stayed, but it was better the way he had done it, even if his brother had failed to keep his promise and hand this ‘least’ of all his possessions over to him.
Narrowing his eyes against the evening sun, he discerned two people on horseback approaching.
‘Are you all right there, Mistress Rose?’ Rob lifted his voice. ‘Nearly there now.’
‘I realise that, Rob.’ Philippa’s voice was taut with nerves now that their journey’s end was in sight. Her pulse began to beat with thick heavy strokes. The success of her plan depended on the next few minutes. Would he denounce her? Send her packing back to Hugo? Or could he want her still? Would he pity her situation so much that he would take her south with him? Her heart seemed to turn right over in her breast as she met Guy’s incredulous gaze with a rigidity that she hoped did not betray her fearful apprehension.
‘This is Mistress Rose Cobtree, Master Guy.’
‘Mistress Rose … ?’ It was definitely a question.
‘Ay, sir. You, I presume are Master Guy Milburn?’ she asked with a stiffness that could have been taken for coldness.
‘I am.’ He shot a glance at Rob. ‘What’s this about, man?’
‘Your brother sent us. I have a letter that will explain just what he wishes you to do, Master Guy.’ He dismounted.
‘Wishes me to do?’ Guy’s face was suddenly still. ‘Here, give me the letter!’ He shot out a hand. Rob took a scroll from inside his tunic and handed it to him. Casting another glance at Philippa, who stared at him blandly, he unrolled the parchment. He read it swiftly, then read it again in disbelief, and a third time, muttering an oath under his breath. Rob and he exchanged looks.
‘Interesting business,’ said Rob, his face lighting up. ‘You ask her yourself, Master Guy. She can’t even remember your bringing her to your brother’s house. I carried her upstairs. Just like one dead she was, but she came round the next day, with some gaps in her memory, like.’
‘My brother wants me to take her to Kent!’ His voice rose. Guy stared at Philippa, and she allowed herself a smile. ‘I don’t believe this,’ he groaned, putting a hand to his head.
‘You don’t want to take me, Master Guy?’ Philippa asked in a forlorn voice. ‘I would be a nuisance to you, no doubt.’
‘Ay! No!’ He ran a hand through his hair, raising it into a crest. ‘Best you come in and rest, and refresh yourself. I need some time to think.’ Without pausing to help her from the horse, he turned and strode towards the stone-built house a short distance away.
Rob grinned at her and shrugged, then helped her down. ‘Don’t you worry about Master Guy now, Mistress Rose. He’ll help you if he can, as you’d know if you could remember.’
‘I’m sure you are right, Rob. But I don’t believe he likes me.’
‘Now you can’t be saying that,’ responded the groom in a soothing voice. ‘The man’s had a shock, that’s all … Been working hard, too, no doubt about it. All the sheep shorn, if he’s ready to go south within a day or so.’ He lifted her baggage down and they made their way to the house, Rob leading the horse.
Guy was outside, sluicing his half-naked body in a bucket near the well. ‘Go on in,’ he called. ‘Supper is on the table, and I won’t be long! Ann will see to you.’
Philippa made to do as he directed, while Rob went to the stable, then she changed her mind and went over to him. There was a need in her to speak to him — to be near him. He glanced at her, then away again.
‘It — It looks a sturdy house … strong,’ she stated firmly.
‘Has to be strong to stand the winters here.’ He was staring at her fully this time. ‘Cruel they are. When the snows come, we might as well be on the moon since we are so remote from any other human contact.’
‘You — You make it sound terrible! Why do you wish to live here if it is so remote? There is no town or city for miles and miles. Not like your brother’s manor.’ She leaned against the wall of the well, not looking at him, afraid to, in case he saw the look in her eyes.
‘My grandfather built the house,’ replied Guy, beginning to dry himself with a rough towel. ‘It was the first permanent home of the Milburns, but when the family became wealthy, it was considered too small and remote.’ He gave a slight smile. ‘But it is its remoteness that made the land cheap, and we own a fair parcel. Not as much, though, as the Cistercian abbey you’ll have passed on the way here. They grow more wool than all of us smaller sheep-farmers put together.’
‘Rob says that you go with your wool soon — that perhaps you will take me south with you?’ Her voice was low, hesitant.
‘Why do you want to go, if you cannot remember? Was it your — your cousin’s suggestion?’ He looped the towel round his neck, and his blue eyes were sharp.
‘No, it was mine. You cannot understand what it is like to wake up in a place you do not recognise and have no remembrance of getting to! I knew it was not my home. I knew I came from Kent, for my cousin mentioned how we had fled and how you helped us. She and your brother seem … content with each other.’ She flicked him a glance, caught his gaze and felt a singing in her veins. ‘He wishes to wed in September,’ she added in an unsteady voice.
‘Wed her in September?’ He moved towards her. ‘And you are happy about that?’ There was an impatience in his expression that almost unnerved her.
Opening her
eyes wide as if in surprise, she stepped back a little. ‘Why shouldn’t I be? I pray that I shall be able to return for the wedding.’
‘But, dammit, don’t you even remember … ? Oh, what’s the use!’ He clamped his jaws tight, and brushing past her, strode towards the house.
Philippa followed more slowly, not unhappy with the exchanges between them so far. He had not told Rob who she really was — and there had been a glint in his eyes when they had met hers that gave her hope, despite his obvious annoyance and bewilderment. But she must be careful. Not until they were beyond the boundaries of Yorkshire would she breathe easily.
A cup of mulled wine calmed, even as it warmed her. A fire burned brightly in the centre of the long low room.
The walls were washed white, but were grimed with smoke and lacked any form of decoration. The furniture was old but beautifully carved, but there were no cushions, and a veneer of dust coated the settle and the chest against the wall by the front door.
Ann, who had cooked the meal, was ancient and seemed to have difficulty in walking. The supper was hot and filling, but plainly presented. Pork, onion and barley flavoured with thyme, it lacked the spices Philippa was accustomed to, although there was a small pot of ginger on the table to sprinkle over the food. An expensive luxury, which perhaps he had obtained through James Wantsum? There was enough food for all, and she wondered if perhaps she and Rob had eaten tomorrow’s dinner! The groom had been seated next to Guy, and they had had their heads together in conversation, little of which she had caught. Enough, though, to presume it was about Lancaster, and she had little enough interest in the man now that it seemed he was not declaring himself king.
Oatcakes and honey followed the first course, and although they were slightly burnt she enjoyed them, and told Ann so, and earned herself the faintest of smiles. She was far too old for the task of ministering to Guy’s needs in the house. Did he not see that? Or was there not a woman on the manor who could do the work? Philippa had spotted only a scattering of roofs from the hill as they descended into this valley. If that were so, he did have need of her, and it would be one extra challenge to persuade him of the fact. But first things first! She lifted her eyes from her food, and looked at him.