by June Francis
It was not until they came to Canterbury a little before sunset that Philippa realised she had no idea where to find her uncle, and said so to Guy.
‘If your villeins are in gaol, the constable will most likely have his direction.’ He had been silent for most of the journey, as silent as she, and as deep in thought. ‘But, love, it is too late now to look for him. You are tired and will not be at your best. Let us see if we can find shelter at the pilgrims’ inn, although I think it unlikely, and we might have to look elsewhere.’
‘I had forgotten that only recently was it the Translation of Saint Thomas,’ she groaned, her head drooping.
‘I doubt many will have given much thought to it recently. I haven’t forgotten what it was like here in June.’
‘Of course! I wasn’t thinking. But perhaps such a happening will have drawn more people to pray at his tomb.’
‘And doubtless there must be more men than yours on trial here, Philippa.’ He swung down out of the saddle as a boy ran forward to take the reins of his horse. ‘Is there any room inside, lad?’ he asked, spinning him a groat. The boy caught it deftly.
‘Not much, but if you’re friendly, and don’t mind sleeping on the floor head to tail like a barrel of salted fish — and can pay more than it’s worth, you’ll get in!’ He grinned, and took Philippa’s horse as she dismounted.
‘No doubt he exaggerates,’ murmured Guy, taking her arm as she stumbled.
‘I hope so!’ she said faintly, trying to smile.
It was as they neared the entrance to the inn that a man came out. He looked at them, then halted dead in front of them as if transfixed. ‘Niece! Philippa Cobtree! Can it be you?’
‘Uncle William!’ Her hands went out to him, and he grasped them firmly. ‘We have been looking for you.’
‘So one of my former neighbours informs me.’ He smiled thinly. ‘Only this day I thought to see how the men were getting on with clearing away the rubble that is all that remains of my former house.’
‘We sought you in London, but could not find you. Now I am here on a different matter.’
‘Your serfs?’ He looked at Guy interrogatively.
‘This is Master Guy Milburn, Uncle William,’ she introduced them swiftly.
The two men shook hands. ‘I am glad to meet you at last, Master Elston.’ said Guy.
‘Ah, I remember you, Master Milburn. You have filled out somewhat since then! Your brother — he is well?’
‘He has a leg wound that is giving him some trouble. But my being here is a long tale, sir, and we are in haste to have the matter of Mistress Philippa’s serfs dealt with.’
‘Ah, the serfs! You are fortunate if you wish to give evidence against them, Philippa. The trials of those who caused murder here in Canterbury were dealt with first in the presence of the Earl of Kent, and … ’
‘I don’t wish to give evidence against them,’ she interrupted him ruthlessly. ‘What will happen to the land if there are no men to labour in the fields and orchards? And Adam the smith, who rescued me from the attentions of the man who killed my father, I believe he saved my life!’
‘You don’t wish to … ' His mouth gaped open. ‘By Saint Thomas himself, I believe your father’s murder has turned you mad! As for this man Adam, I have a witness who … ’
‘If he is Walter, my bailiff, you may tell him his witness could cost him his position on my manor!’ she declared hotly. ‘He never came to help me after my father’s death.’
She took a breath. ‘It is time for all to return to normal again. The seasons don’t wait, and I need workers in my fields and craftsmen in the village. I need to have a house built. Indeed I need my serfs back on my manor!’ She glared at him defiantly. ‘If you have any affection for me at all, Uncle William, you will help me instead of working against me.’
‘Working against you,’ he spluttered. ‘I thought I was doing what your father would have wished.’
‘My father is dead.’ Her throat moved and she had need to pause, before continuing, ‘But I am very much alive! I must have a working manor to bring to my husband when I wed.’
‘To bring to your … ? Ahhh!’ He nodded in Guy’s direction. ‘You are here as your brother’s envoy?’
‘You might say that,’ drawled Guy, raising one dark diabolical eyebrow, and smiling enigmatically.
‘Ah, then that’s a different matter. I shall do my best. The smith saved your life, you say?’
She nodded. ‘And the man who murdered my father was killed in the explosion at the Savoy.’
‘You know that for a fact? The smith did mention … ’
‘Ay! ’Tis true!’
‘Ah! Divine justice!’
‘You could say that in court,’ murmured Guy. ‘Tell the justice that God took a hand in this case, and that a lady is in distress and in need of mercy and leniency for her serfs.’
William gave him a look that spoke volumes. ‘You do not need to tell me what to say, Master Milburn.’ He sniffed. ‘Just leave the matter in my hands. Unless you wish to speak for them?’
Philippa and Guy exchanged glances, and he answered for her, noting the weariness in her face. ‘It would be better if you could do it. We have travelled far, and your niece has been through much.’
‘True, true!’ William tut-tutted. ‘You are staying here, I presume?’
Guy nodded. ‘The town is crowded, it seems.’
‘That is true. I would offer you a place to lay your heads, but I am staying with an acquaintance, and have only a share of a bedchamber.’
‘We understand, Uncle William,’ said Philippa. ‘When is the trial to be?’
‘Tomorrow, niece. You came just in time. Perhaps one could see the divine hand in that!’ He smiled thinly.
‘We shall not wait.’ She smiled slightly. ‘If they are freed, then tell them to come home, where there is a place for them.’
‘You think you can trust them to do so?’ He frowned.
‘Most have wives and children — I think they will come.’
He nodded, bid them a good night and left.
‘So we go back to your manor tomorrow, Philippa,’ said Guy. ‘What then?’ His voice was quietly serious.
‘I must do what I said. Arrange for a house to be built — talk to the men. The women will not have coped with all the weeding in the fields. Much work needs to be done if there is to be food for all in the winter.’ She looked up at him and caught the gleam of his eyes. It was almost dark. ‘You understand I have to do this, Guy, before returning to Yorkshire?’ She pushed her hair back wearily.
‘Oh, I understand. You do intend returning, then?’ His hand was on her shoulder.
‘I have to. And there is Rose, of course. The situation there has to be dealt with.’ She rubbed her cheek against his hand. ‘You do understand?’
‘I’m not sure.’ His face was unreadable now. ‘How long will all this take — all that you have to do?’
‘I — I don’t know.’ She gave a yawn. ‘But it has to be done. Besides, I want to do it.’
‘Then there is no more to be said.’ There was a stiffness in his tone that caused her to frown, but she was too tired to ask what was wrong.
They went inside the inn, and it was as crowded as they had been warned. But just as the boy said, for a few pennies more than the asking price they were able to obtain shelter. That night they slept wedged against each other, but there was nothing lover-like in the act, and Philippa fell asleep almost as soon as her head touched the floor.
The next day they returned to Cobtree manor, and so caught up was Philippa in planning what needed to be done there that she did not notice how silent Guy was.
‘Have you thought of where you will sleep?’ he asked, when they dismounted outside the smithy.
She nodded. ‘I shall have Rose’s old home swept out and cleaned and stay there for a short while.’ She turned, as Emma emerged at a rush from inside her house.
‘Mistress Philippa, what has happened?
’ She was paler than the day before.
‘I don’t know yet. My uncle is seeing to the matter. God willing, they will return home. You must prepare — and if you could also clean Rose’s house for me?’ She turned as Guy spoke her name.
‘What is it?’ Shading her eyes from the sun, she looked up at him, wondering why he had remounted.
‘I just want to say farewell,’ he said quietly.
A shock rippled through her. ‘Farewell?’ she stammered. ‘What do you mean? Are you not staying?’
‘To do what, Philippa? You have it all arranged. Perhaps this was what you planned all along. You are the lady of the manor, after all.’ He grasped the reins firmly in his hand. ‘I am my brother’s steward, and must be about my business. If you are serious about returning to Yorkshire, I shall return in a few weeks and take you there. Until then, I wish you well in all your endeavours.’ He blew her a kiss.
‘But, Guy, you don’t understand,’ she cried, stepping forward as the horse did. ‘Wait!’
He shook his head. ‘No, I don’t. But then what man ever understood a woman?’ His knees touched the horse’s side firmly, and he was away.
She ran a few paces and then her feet faltered. What was the use? What had come over him? Tears were near, but she fought them back so determinedly that her face ached. A hand touched her shoulder and she turned to face Emma’s anxious face.
‘Mistress Philippa, did you say Rose’s house?’
‘Ay, I have to sleep somewhere,’ she said huskily. ‘But where is Rose? She was seen in London, but since then … What has happened to her?’
‘She is well, and in Yorkshire.’
‘Where’s that? What’s she doing there?’ Emma stared at her in bewilderment.
‘I wish I knew,’ murmured Philippa, longing unexpectedly for the company of her former maid. Only to her could she have poured out her sudden fears. Why had Guy left in such a hurry? Where had everything gone wrong? Were circumstances any better for Rose in that northern land? She wished she knew.
Chapter Thirteen
Rose tucked a curl into the silver net about her hair, frowning at herself, then rubbed her cheeks until they glowed, and smiled at her reflection. She replaced the mirror in the corner of the bedchamber. Straightening her red linen skirts before crossing the room, she looked forward to the excitement of a day at the Knaresborough fair with Hugo.
It seemed an age ago that she had been to such an event with Mistress Philippa. How strange it still felt at times not to have her near, or to answer her call and do all that was required for a lady by her maid. Although she was becoming accustomed to playing her part, there had been some difficulties she had not anticipated. Hugo had asked her to help Mistress Margaret in the smooth running of the household, and the lady had been unexpectedly helpful. Fuddled she might be at times, but if one got her talking of the past and the days when her husband was alive and she had her own house, a lot could be learned from listening. She asked her questions and sooner or later the answer came back out of the old lady’s ramblings.
As she entered the hall, she saw that Hugo was conversing with a stranger, so she sat on a settle and waited patiently. The man was dirty and sweat-stained, but he did not appear to be a serf with a grudge, and she wondered just who he was and why he was in the house. The conversation came to an end and the man departed. Hugo turned to face her, and smiling, held out a hand. She rose immediately and went to meet him as he came towards her.
There was still the slightest of limps, but his leg was healing nicely. If only he would be more sensible, it might recover altogether, but he was not a patient man. She had fussed and coaxed, scolded and kissed. And he had argued, and occasionally given in to her with bad grace, and sometimes gracefully, with a charm that had reminded her much of Master Guy, despite the differences between the two brothers.
‘You are ready to go?’ He leaned down and kissed her rosy mouth.
‘Have I not been waiting for you?’ she murmured, when at last he drew away from her. ‘Who was that man?’
‘A messenger.’ He took her hand and tucked it in his arm. ‘We must make the best of this day, my lass. Tomorrow I shall have to leave you.’ His pale grey eyes scanned her oval smooth face. ‘Will you miss me?’
‘Of course. B-But why … ? Where do you go?’ Her fingers tightened on his sleeve.
‘Lancaster has been summoned by the king to attend him at Reading. Richard believes that all the charges against him are false, yet the duke would face in front of the king the man who acted on the rumours, and upset his duchess.’
‘The Earl of Northumberland?’ She had not been listening to him without remembering how the earl had figured in his tales about Lancaster. It appeared that Northumberland had wanted to have his revenge on the duke for some time, ever since the duke had spoilt his plans for returning the surprise the Scots had dealt him when he was taken unawares at Penrith on their fair day and goods and several prisoners had been carried off. But it had been the English who broke the truce first, by capturing a Scottish ship and stealing an extremely rich cargo. He had seen to it that the duke and duchess had been subjected to humiliation.
‘The duke wishes an apology from the earl, and wants to make a fair showing of his power, just in case there is trouble.’
‘Trouble? You mean fighting?’ She had turned pale.
‘What other can I mean? But do not fret yourself. I am well able to take care of myself. Besides, in front of the king, I doubt it will be so.’ He patted her hand. ‘Now forget my leaving and let us make the most of the day. You have some money in your purse and there will be fairings to be had.’ He pinched her cheek. ‘Give me a smile.’ She did so, and forced herself to chatter about the fairs she had been to in the south, but all the time she was wondering when she would see him again — and whether Philippa and Master Guy would have returned by then.
The market square in front of Knaresborough Castle was crowded with booths and stalls, not to mention people. The groom who had accompanied them saw to their horses, while they pushed their way through the crowds. The air was pungent, and Rose forged her way to the spice stall, jostling for a place in the front. Her way was made easier because of Hugo’s great bulk at her side. Once the spices were purchased, they went to the fabric stall, and she enjoyed herself rummaging for a cloth she had dreamed about, and delighted in a fabric of palest blue with a hint of silver thread.
‘Now we can enjoy ourselves,’ she said, allowing Hugo to take her purchases from her.
‘I thought you were,’ he teased, holding her hand. ‘Let us go now and watch the play.’ He pulled her through the throng.
They stood side by side, watching as the fall of Adam and Eve unfolded, listening and smiling at the sly allusions made by the man playing the Serpent. Then they moved on to watch the antics of a bear on a chain, and tumblers and jugglers. A man cried his wares, and they bought pies topped with a cross to ward off evil spirits.
They fingered furs from far northern lands, and admired jewellery. Hugo purchased her a brooch of silver and amethysts, which he pinned to her breast, brushing off her gratitude. The gift dulled her spirits, just as his refusal to change her silver buttons had done. She hated deceiving him while accepting his gifts, so that when he suggested that they leave the fair and wander down the river, she agreed, not wishing to take more from him while practising such a trick. The sun had disappeared, and clouds were banking in the west as they strolled along the river bank. Their progress was slow because there had been a climb down to the water, and Hugo limped again.
It was as they were returning to the path that led back to the High Street that it happened. Suddenly a figure sprang from a clump of bushes, raising a dagger and would have plunged it into Sir Hugo’s chest if Rose had not shouted a warning. Hugo managed to seize his assailant’s wrist as the blade came up, and with a twist he forced him to drop his weapon.
‘How dare you attack me!’ The knight grabbed a handful of his tunic and lifted him
into the air, shaking him like a rat, as he peered closely into his face. ‘I know you! You’re the brother of that fool who is in prison for trying to kill me. Well, you can join him!’ he said grimly.
‘I don’t care what you do with me! Rather gaol, than be your slave!’ He swung a fist at Hugo and caught him a blow on the chin. ‘You don’t even know that Nat’s dead! Dead, you hear, because of you!’ His voice broke, and he swung another fist at him, but this time his captor moved his head so that the blow glanced harmlessly past his ear.
‘You just listen to me, lad,’ growled Hugo. ‘Your brother and your cousin tried to kill me — except that they chose a night when it was foul and dirty — and another man was with them. Three against one is hardly fair!’ He lowered the man to the ground, and Rose was able to see that he was only a lad of perhaps twelve years old. His hair was matted, and his face was filthy.
‘What are you going to do with him?’ She experienced a pang of sympathy, remembering what it had been like to be hungry and dirty. ‘He’s only a boy, Hugo.’
‘He’s old enough to try to murder me!’ he responded grimly, shaking the lad again. ‘You would think he would have more sense. His family are cottars — that means that they have no land to work except a garden. His mother’s a widow. I used to pay the brother wages to work on my land, but he wasn’t satisfied. He wanted more money so that he could buy a bit of land. And Guy thinks that freeing them and paying them wages is the answer to all this unrest!’
‘I’m sure Master Guy doesn’t think it’s that simple, Hugo,’ answered Rose in a soft voice. ‘But if his mother is a widow, and the brother is dead, who is to help her? Are there more brothers or sisters?’
He shook his head. ‘Just this imp of hell.’ He shook the lad again.
‘Hugo, let me have charge of him. I’ll have a word with his mother, and perhaps this fright will make him behave himself.’