by June Francis
‘You would say that! He’s bewitched you! Is it because I am a cripple that you do not want me for a husband? Is that it?’ Suddenly he felt pain in his head and heart.
‘No!’ She sat on the bench, her legs trembling. ‘I loved him before I ever set eyes on you again. Why is it that you are so insistent on wanting me now? In the last nine years you did not bother to claim me, and I know why. It is because you loved another.’
‘He told you that!’ He went scarlet, and then white, and then scarlet again.
‘No, your cousin told me. Surely, this time, you can behave honourably? You have lain with Rose — and you should wed her!’
‘How dare you! You talk of honour, and you have lied and tricked — and so has she! She tricked me into her bed.’
‘You are so weak?’ she said scornfully. ‘Why do you not admit that you prefer her to me!’
‘She is a serf — and she lay with me to try to persuade me to wed her when the truth came out. She thought to wrap me round her little finger with her coaxing ways,’ he sneered.
‘Rose is not like that! She is good and kind, hard working and generous natured. And brave — she saved my life. You would be much better off if you wed her!’
‘You think to persuade me so that you and my brother can have your way — can have it all! Well, I will not be swayed by your words — or his — or hers. I can have you both. I shall wed you — and she will be my whore.’ He scrubbed at his beard with an unsteady hand. ‘You may go and tell her so. Now get out of my sight, woman!’ He hunched his shoulders and turned his face from her.
Philippa felt a sense of overwhelming hopelessness, and for the moment, beaten. She got up and left him without another word.
‘I will not be his whore,’ declared Rose, her face hard, having listened to all that Philippa had told her. ‘I am a freewoman, and he shall not treat me like a serf! I shall find a way of leaving this place. I still have your silver buttons, and I can sell them. He would not let me exchange them for money before.’ For an instant her expression was tragic, and her lips quivered.
‘We shall both leave this place — but how? He is bound to have us watched. I would not have thought it of him, for he used to treat you so kindly.’ Philippa sank on the bed. ‘We need time — time to think and for him to calm down. He might regret all he has done and said, once he becomes accustomed to thinking of you differently. If only he does not plan to wed me speedily!’ She looped her hands in her lap, and her brow corrugated in thought. ‘It — It would not be very wise of him to do so. The servants, and those who have seen much of you, will know the difference between you and me.’
‘That is true,’ murmured Rose, sitting beside her. ‘If the wedding could only be delayed! He had considered in two days’ time?’ Again her face quivered.
‘Could we get word to Guy?’ Philippa patted her hand.
‘What can he do? Hugo has more men. Although the serfs might still be somewhat rebellious even though they now know why those men were put in prison, they are not going to rise up against him. And there are the guards.’
‘I must speak to Hugo again. At least to persuade him that it would be unwise to make me his wife yet.’ Philippa sighed and got up. ‘Tomorrow … It can wait till tomorrow. Maybe by then he will have calmed down a little. In the meantime, we shall stay close to each other just in case he has any plans for forcing himself upon you.’
Rose nodded. It seemed a year since last night when he had said that he loved her and they had held each other. But she must forget about that. There seemed little hope that he would change his mind and ever take her for his wife.
The next morning, Philippa determined to seek Hugo out. He had not been in the hall when they broke their fast, or at morning prayers. She found him at last in the stables. He looked up as she entered, and grunted, before turning to his horse again.
‘I wish to speak to you.’ She put her hands behind her back and clasped her restless fingers tightly. ‘Alone!’
‘I have nothing else to say to you.’ He did not look at her. ‘Help me up, man!’ Rob hurried forward and complied with his order.
‘But I have something to say to you. I shall say it in front of Rob, if you wish. It is about your wedding … I think it should be put off. We still grieve, you see. And she is especially unhappy.’
‘Rob, leave us,’ he growled, staring down at her. ‘So she is unhappy. I’m … ’ He paused, watching Rob leave the building. ‘I’m pleased to hear it. I’m not very happy myself,’ he added sarcastically.
Philippa took a breath. ‘I comprehend your anger with me — with all of us. Although it is my sin that has caused the upset. But have you given thought to how it will appear if you wed me after having spent so much time in Rose’s company?’
‘I have. And I’ll just have to bear them thinking me a fool to have been taken in. At least they won’t say anything to my face.’
‘B-But would it not be better if you put off the wedding and instead allowed Rose and me to return to Kent for a short while? People have short memories — and there is a likeness between us. They might not realise the difference if only one returned. Then there would be no need for anyone to consider you a fool.’ He frowned. ‘I don’t trust you, and I’m not a fool. You are playing for time. Yet there is something in what you say.’ He stroked the horse’s neck absent-mindedly. ‘I agree, but I cannot have my betrothed and her maid roaming the country without an escort. In October I go to London, and I shall take you both south with me. In the meantime, you will keep to your room as much as is feasible — only coming down for meals. If it is necessary, I can rid myself of all those who ever set eyes on you.’ He gave a twisted smile, and bid her good day.
She went, having gained more than she had hoped for. All that was needed now was to get a message to Guy. Not for a moment did she really believe what Hugo had said about his wanting her in order to gain her land. Nor did she think it possible that he would be able to arrive like a knight in a tale and snatch her from this house. Real life was not like that at all. But perhaps there was a way of getting in touch with him. She would ask Rose if it were possible, for she knew much more about the activities and the people on Hugo’s manor than she did.
‘There is a way.’ Rose set a stitch in her tapestry. ‘A serf for whom I put in a word with Hugo. His name is Robin, and his mother is a widow. As cottars, they have little in the way of this world’s goods. He would perhaps take a message for us if he knows the way to Master Guy’s manor. He works in the stables now — he can perhaps enquire from Rob how to get there.’
‘He would have to be discreet,’ murmured Philippa, her hands clasped on her psalter.
‘I shall give him one of the silver buttons — that will ensure it.’
Philippa nodded, her eyes on the maid’s sad face. ‘Has he tried to — Hugo, I mean — tried to force his attentions upon you?’
‘So far, no.’ She lowered her eyes to her work. ‘You saw him at the supper table last night. He would not even look at me.’
‘I consider that a good sign,’ said Philippa softly. ‘Remember how I would not look at Master Guy when we were in Kingston. I was frightened that he might see how much I cared. Nor did I see you looking at Hugo.’
‘No.’ Her hands stilled on the fabric. ‘I do care — but I knew that it could come to this, and shall just have to bear it. Now please may we talk of something else?’
So the subject of Hugo and what might have been for Rose was not broached again.
The days passed slowly, unbearably slowly. Only the realisation that Guy knew that they would be going to London comforted Philippa. Often she took out the note that Robin had brought her, reading the words of love and his restated belief that they would be together again in London.
It was different for Rose. She grew pale, and there were great dark circles beneath her eyes. She dreaded not seeing Hugo again once she had returned south. Yet she had set her mind on a future, considering ways of earning some money
, if it was possible. Maybe Philippa would allow her to keep a couple of sheep on her manor. She still had the silver buttons. Part of her wanted to have the parting over, while the other ached for the days when she and Hugo had shared so much together.
Then one cold frosty day late in October, Hugo announced that they would be leaving for the south the next morning. At Leicester he was to join the Duke of Lancaster’s forces, and they would follow on with an escort of two of the grooms. One of them was to be Robin, the other Rob, which suited the two women’s purposes perfectly. He would meet them again in London and escort them to Cobtree manor. In a frenzy of activity the two women made ready for the journey.
It was to prove uneventful, but to do something instead of marking time waiting, raised their spirits. Philippa was uncertain as to how Guy would arrange it so that they could be together, and often she found herself looking behind her, hoping to see him. One night only did they spend in Leicester, and on the following morning all the duke’s men, with Hugo among them, rode out of the castle. Philippa, estimating their number, began to realise that the situation between Lancaster and Northumberland was perhaps more serious than she deemed. But it was not until they neared London that she discovered just how tense the situation was between them.
Lancaster and his men were to stay outside the city, quartered at Fulham. The earl had enrolled himself as a citizen of London, and installed troops of his Borderers in the city. Barricades had been thrown up and guards set at the gates to prevent the duke and his men from entering.
Dismay was the feeling uppermost in Philippa’s heart, for she was convinced that it was in the city that Guy would try to meet them.
‘They might let us in — two women and their grooms,’ ventured Rose, her eyelids drooping. They sat in front of a log fire, trying to thaw out frozen toes. She dreamed of how it would have been much more pleasant to have shared a bed with Hugo that freezing night. Tears squeezed their way under her lids — for there was much she had to cry about.
‘We could try in the morning. Hugo is bound to be out of the way at Westminster when parliament meets. It should prove a stormy session if Lancaster and Northumberland attend with all their men.’ She wriggled her toes, gazing into the heart of the fire. ‘He should have his hands full, and I cannot see Robin and Rob giving us much trouble if we do meet Guy. Perhaps he will be at the bridge — or maybe we shall find him at Beatrice’s.’ She yawned. ‘I’m for bed.’ She was impatient for the night to be over.
Everything went as they had hoped, and they had no difficulty getting into London, but the streets were crowded and it was difficult forcing their way through. Philippa was starting to feel quite desperate, when a hand snatched at her reins and her horse was forced to a standstill.
Her fingers trembled as the rider’s hand covered hers, holding it firmly. She had waited, and longed, and expected, and was not disappointed as she foundered in the depths of Guy’s blue eyes.
‘I think you are expecting me?’ There was a singing in every nuance of his voice.
‘Ay,’ she whispered, ‘but I did not know the hour. I only prayed it would be this day.’ Her fingers laced through his, and he lifted their joined hands and rubbed hers against his cheek.
‘Will you come with me?’ He kissed her gloved hand.
‘To the ends of the earth,’ she said, flushing slightly.
He chuckled. ‘I don’t ask that of you.’ He turned to Rob and Robin. ‘I shall take care of the ladies now.’
Robin nodded, but the older man looked uneasy. ‘Don’t know about that, Master Guy. Your brother said … ’
‘You may tell my brother that he will find the three of us at Cobtree manor. We shall await him there. You aren’t going to argue with me, Rob, are you?’
‘Don’t like to.’ He rubbed his unshaven chin. ‘He’s been unhappy these last weeks, considering how happy he was before that. I don’t understand what’s going on, but if by your telling me that he’s to meet you at this manor that means everything’s going to be resolved between you, then I’ll do it.’
‘I pray so, Rob.’ Guy clapped him on the shoulder. ‘God go with you.’ He gave Rob’s horse a smack on the rump, and the grooms departed.
‘You mean for Hugo to come after us?’ said Philippa, leaning towards him.
‘I do. Has he been unhappy?’
‘We all have. Only the hope of seeing you again has kept me from falling apart.’ She smiled into his eyes. ‘Do you think he will come?’
‘I pray so.’ He turned to Rose. ‘Would you welcome him if he came?’
‘I might. But I doubt he wants my welcome, or me.’ Her face was pinched and sallow-looking.
‘You never know, Rose. I think he might have need of you. But he’s stubborn, and will need reassuring.’ He patted her arm. ‘Let us be on our way. You look cold, and it is a long journey ahead.’
He drew his horse alongside Philippa and together they turned their faces towards London Bridge and Cobtree manor.
It was a tiring journey, yet there was a lightness in Philippa’s heart as they travelled, although her nose was cold and the tips of her fingers often seemed to have frozen altogether. At last, after three days of travelling, they came to familiar country. Orchards, their branches stark, gnarled and black against the grey sky, appeared beautiful to her. Smoke rose lazily from a roof, and she realised after several astonished moments that it was her new house.
‘They have finished it! I never thought it would be ready in time for Christmas! I thought that once I left, they might stop working.’
‘I came here several weeks ago after receiving your message, and made sure it would be finished.’
‘Oh, Guy!’ Tears sparkled in her eyes, and she flung her arms about him, pressing her cold lips against his. He returned her kiss, and then insisted that they went on, adding that there would be a fire to welcome them and, with luck, a meal fit for a wedding feast. She made no answer to that, only wondered with a rising excitement.
The house inside was somewhat sparse. The walls were bare but the windows were glazed, shutting out the cold wind. A fire burned brightly on the hearth to welcome them. There was a single settle, two benches and a trestle. The two women settled themselves in front of the fire, with no thought of who had lit it, or whence came the smell of cooking chicken. Rose’s eyes drooped, and Philippa rested her head against the back of the settle.
‘My lady, we have business to attend to,’ said Guy, picking up Philippa’s gloves and handing them to her.
‘We have?’
‘Ay! I’ve had the banns read,’ he said quietly. ‘The vicar knows only that you are betrothed to a man called Milburn. He is new since you were last here, and has some revolutionary ideas.’
Instantly she was wide awake. ‘The banns? Then let us go! Is he a Lollard? The last priest never returned after the revolt in June, and I remember his preaching once what some would call heresies.’ She twinkled up at him. ‘He believed that one could pray direct to God without the intervention of priests or saints.’
‘So do I, but priests do have their uses.’ He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘Are you willing to marry this heretic?’
‘Willingly — but what of the betrothal agreement? I told Hugo that it was destroyed. I really would like it to be so before we wed.’
‘Then let us do it now, if that is what you wish.’ He pulled her hand through his arm. ‘You do remember where you put it?’
‘Of course! I’ll just tell Rose where we are going.’
Rose hardly heeded her words, for, weary to the bone, she was nodding in front of the blaze.
They walked hand in hand until they came to the forest. Then it was a matter of scrambling over tangled woody brambles and browning undergrowth, and stepping across moist yellow carpets of leaves. Philippa led Guy straight to the shattered tree, hesitating before plunging her hand into the hole. She turned over bits of bark and dead leaves, and the occasional stiffened insect, until she dragged it out.
Some woodland creature had nibbled at the leather, and it was damp and coming apart at the seams. She handed it to Guy.
‘You open it, and confirm what I told you about Rose.’
Impatiently Guy dragged off his gloves with his teeth, and with cold fingers undid the pouch. Together they read the Latin on the betrothal agreement. Then they unrolled the lists of names and dues.
It took some time to go through them, but she knew what they looked for. Some of the names went back over generations, sons and daughters, mothers and fathers. ‘Here! This is it!’ Her finger stabbed at a name. ‘She was also called Rose. Daughter of a Thomas and mother of a Thomas, but note, there is no father named. Of course this is not proof and wouldn’t perhaps stand in a court of law, but I think it proof that at some time one of my forebears lay with one of Rose’s.’
‘It can be the only answer to that similarity between you.’ Guy rolled up the scroll and placed it inside his doublet. ‘Shall we go to church now?’ His voice was carefully casual.
‘Do you need to ask?’ They kissed.
‘Do we tell Rose first?’ asked Philippa.
‘Ay!’ He rubbed noses with her slowly. ‘But somehow I doubt that she will he surprised.’
Rose showed little emotion when they told her. ‘It is only what I have thought myself on occasions, but what use could my telling Hugo have made?’ She shrugged slender shoulders.
‘It could make a great difference, Rose. But brighten yourself up, and come to church with us.’
So they went to church, and the villeins led by Adam filled it for the Mass afterwards, and all wished their mistress and her master every happiness.
It was a quiet company who sat down to the food set before them. Guy declared that it was one of his favourite meals. There was roast chicken in Vyaund de Ciprys se Ryalle sauce, which made Philippa’s eyes widen, since she had not yet set foot in the new kitchen.
‘The cook was sent down from London. He was trained by Beatrice.’