by Ann Turner
Around the hall, breaths were held, knives remained inserted in meats, and cups were suspended between plates and mouths. Henry’s grey eyes suddenly began to sparkle in amusement; his lips curled into a broad grin and he barked an enormous laugh. Then, in an over exaggerated gesture, he rubbed his head. The entire hall erupted, cheering wildly. The fool’s gamble had paid off and the king was having one of the best evenings spent without a woman to amuse him.
‘Only a fool would be so bold to hit a king, I salute you!’ he roared, holding an overflowing glass of wine in salutation at the jester, who now bowed and deliberately tripped over his own feet. This made everyone in the hall roar again with laughter. The fool then put the stick of his bladder to his mouth and made bugle sounds, marching with exaggerated steps around the hall trailed by his apprentice, to the celebratory congratulations from everyone.
Though Rowena had accompanied her husband to the banquet, she had begged permission to be excused before the fool had started his performance. She did not want to stay in case one of the royal party selected her and took her to their bedchamber. Claiming to feel unwell, she was escorted by a page back to her apartment. There, Aubrette was waiting and the sisters talked about the events of the day and Rowena told her about the banquet. King Henry had called for her to be presented to him at the top table. He had taken her hand and kissed it with affectional, welcoming her to his family, and congratulating Simon on his choice of bride. She exclaimed how charming he had been, and could see how easily women were attracted to him.
In the early hours of the morning, Simon came stumbling into the room. He knocked into furniture, belching and cursing loudly from too much good food and wine. Aubrette, who had been keeping her sister company quickly rose from her chair and absented herself, hoping Simon would not see her and in front of Rowena demand she served him that night, so revealing their secret affair.
Rowena, now woken by the clamorous entrance of her husband, sat up, knowing she would have to endure his drink-induced groping and the smell of his hot, spicy breath as he attempted to take her with laboured grunting, much effort and little result.
He loudly announced that during the evening, an ambitious husband, hoping to find favour at court, had pushed his plain little wife in Simon’s direction and instructed her to do whatever it took to bring him to the king’s notice. Both men knew what he meant and Simon proudly proclaimed that he had taken the unattractive, reluctant wife into an antechamber, where he had rammed her good, detailing every unsavoury and graphic moment of adultery. In the same room was Count Geoffrey, preoccupied with another man’s wife. Simon had then returned the trembling woman, promising her husband that he would petition the king the following day. In reality, he had no intention of doing anything. The wife had been a distraction for him, and her unwillingness to cooperate had been an added encouragement for him to complete the task.
Rowena quietly listened to her husband’s rumbustious admission of adultery and said nothing. She knew he took other women, but it had never mattered before as they were faceless entities. He had never boasted about them to her before now.
The following day the king and his court gathered in the courtyard, ready for the hunt. The hound masters and falconers had their animals primed and ready for a long day; grooms held the spirited horses still as their lords and ladies mounted at the blocks; and servants circulated trays of wine, ale and tasty morsels of food. There was much noise and jollity in anticipation of the exhilarating day ahead of them all.
The king was on his warhorse, engrossed in conversation with the constable of the castle, when his attention was distracted by a young mother and her small son approaching him. He turned in his saddle so that he could look more closely at her. She was a comely wench and he made a note to go into the town to find her for a few hours later. If she had a husband, he would surely realise the honour this brought to his family and absent himself with the boy for the duration.
She and her son had now stopped in front of his horse. The boy, who could not have seen more than five summers, was gazing with wonder at the king’s mighty horse. Then, prompted by his mother, he stepped forward and held out a small bunch of straggly wild flowers for the king.
Henry, knowing the importance of being approachable to his lower subjects so as to keep their loyalty, he leant down and took the flowers graciously from the boy. He said a few words to him and allowed the awestruck child to stroke the powerful shoulder of his horse. He looked up to see a beaming smile from the lad’s mother. Later, the pathetic flowers would be thrown aside, trampled under hooves as the king led the hunt. The moment with the boy and his mother would be instantly forgotten by the king, though for the lowly pair it would be remembered for the rest of their lives as the moment King Henry had taken time to speak with them.
Rowena had absented herself from the hunt. This time she was genuinely unwell, and now watched as her husband, feeling the effects from the previous evening, kept near to the king. The rousing blast of the hunting horns sounded loud, calling to the assembled to depart through the gatehouse. No one would return until late and the sun was setting. It was noticed by many that only two of the king’s legitimate sons were present. Rumours circulated that the royal princes had argued vehemently the evening before and one of them was skulking somewhere in the castle, refusing to be in either of his brothers’ presences. Nothing unusual about that; the Plantagenets would always be a quarrelsome bunch.
Remaining behind in the castle, Rowena sat in a window seat, sewing. She was humming to herself, for though she felt unwell, her mood was good. Aubrette was bustling around the room, sweeping the old stinking rushes out. Later, she would fetch and scatter the fresh reeds. Rowena set her sewing down and smiled at her sister.
‘What do you think my husband will say when I tell him that I am pregnant again, Aubrette?’ she asked. ‘I had my suspicions and it was confirmed yesterday by the physician. This one will be good and I’ll give Simon his son finally.’
Aubrette said little. Now that this baby was on its way, he would not bed his wife – as any sexual activity could harm the unborn child. This meant that he would be able to meet her more frequently and, if Aubrette dared to hope, spend entire nights together.
‘I know things are a little strained between us since I married Simon, but I intend to speak to him to release you from this servitude and become my companion and sister again,’ continued Rowena.
‘Could we ever be as close as we once were?’ Aubrette asked, unsure.
Rowena smiled. ‘Oh, I am sure of it. You are my friend as well as my sister, and I want us to be the same again. You were always the naughty one; you used to get me into so much trouble, remember?’ Rowena said, reminiscing. ‘Remember that time we sneaked into the kitchen and stole all the honey cakes the cook had made?’
Aubrette laughed, remembering the occasion. ‘What about when our father caught us taking a drink from the pitcher of wine reserved for some important visitor and he made us drink the whole lot.’
‘I was sick for a week!’ exaggerated Rowena. The two women sat and laughed, remembering and recalling more events from their happy childhood. ‘I miss being with you. Having you as my maid just does not seem right. I cannot see you as a servant, though I did try as Simon instructed.’
‘Speak to your husband and he will be understanding once he knows your news,’ said Aubrette, knowing Simon would never part with her now. Their association was too profound for either to wish it to end.
Later, she went to the barn to collect the required quantity of fresh reeds for Rowena’s room. She stood chatting with one of the grooms about the king’s stay and they shared a joke about the argument between the king’s sons. The groom seemed to know all the gossip; he said he had heard two of the royal brothers arguing about sleeping arrangements. While talking, neither failed to notice an attendant of one of the guests enter the stable. At first, he appea
red to be busy carrying out a task for his master, but he then approached the gossiping pair and joined in their conversation.
‘I heard them argue, too,’ agreed the attendant. ‘Something to do with a sleeping partner that was not natural. It was not who you would imagine.’ His eyes ran the length of Aubrette, making her feel uncomfortable in his presence. ‘Not who a red-blooded man would choose, but with this royal family, nothing would surprise me.’
Inwardly shivering from his intense gaze, Aubrette excused herself and said she had to get back to her mistress. With the bundle of fresh reeds in her arms, she left the stables to walk back to the servants’ entrance. She did not notice the attendant hurry out after her to follow her at a distance. He had marked her out for his attention and would take her by surprise.
Aubrette’s path took her across the courtyard and down a narrow high-walled alley. It was here he attacked. Running up silently behind her, he grabbed her by the throat with one hand while clamping his other hand over her mouth to prevent her shouting for help. He slammed her against the wall and pressed his body against her to stop her struggling or escaping. With his now free hand, he pulled at her skirts, forcing his rough hand up between her legs. She was terrified and unable to fight back as she felt his fingers violate her as a preliminary to her invasion.
‘Be still and I shall not hurt you much,’ he warned in her ear. ‘I just want a little fun in my life – God knows I deserve it.’ As he spoke, he loosened his hose and bent his knees, ready to push upwards and inwards.
Suddenly, the man was hauled back and swung round by another who landed a powerful punch to his jaw. It knocked several teeth out and sent him sprawling to the floor amid the spoilt reeds. Aubrette’s saviour yanked the man to his feet and hit him again with another mighty blow, which sent him crashing into the wall beside her, splattering blood in all directions. The man scrambled to his feet, pulling up his hose. Recognising his opponent, he ran off, holding his bleeding jaw.
Aubrette flattened herself against the brick wall, paralysed with fear, her eyes wide with terror, and snapped her head around to look at the man who had rescued her.
‘Simon,’ she breathed.
‘Simon?’ he echoed. ‘No, Duke Richard.’
‘Richard?’ Aubrette said, feebly.
The duke frowned. ‘Duke Richard,’ he firmly rectified. ‘Come, you have had a scare and these reeds are ruined. Get you back to your mistress and I will have fresh reeds sent to my bastard brother’s apartments.’
‘How… how did you know who I serve?’ she asked as she did a shaky curtsey and staggered sideward, still in shock. The duke put his arms around her, steadying her.
‘When I arrived yesterday and Simon offered me his wife, I looked at her and saw you standing behind. I remembered. You did not have the air of a servant; there was something else in you.’
“Thank you, sir, for saving me,’ said Aubrette.
Richard smiled and it was the same dazzling smile of Simon. She could not help but return it.
‘Your mistress will probably wonder where you have been. I’ll get the reeds to you. Go now,’ he said in dismissal.
After a second curtsey, Aubrette returned to Rowena and explained why she had been so long, as well as who had saved her.
The banquet that night outshone the previous evening’s festivities. The hunt had been very successful and everyone gorged themselves on the kills from the day. Rowena, feeling well enough, accompanied Simon, leaving Aubrette to prepare the room for their return. She turned down the counterpane, plumped up the pillows and her hands stroke the pillow where Simon would lay his head. She wondered whether he could get away from the evening’s revelries to find her. Soon, they would be able to spend more time together – once Rowena had disclosed to her husband her pregnancy. Their affair would still be their secret, but they would be able to spend more hours every night savouring each other’s company.
She kept reliving Duke Richard’s actions from earlier in the day and compared the half-brothers, with Simon always winning. The door quietly opened and Aubrette turned rapidly, expecting to see her lover coming towards her with his arms outstretched. However, it was Rowena. She managed to hide the disappointment she felt. Rowena was looking serious. Aubrette remembered to curtsey to her mistress, as this did not appear to be a social visit.
‘My husband was told about the incident with the duke earlier today. I have been instructed by him to tell you to go to Duke Richard’s apartments, where he is awaiting your arrival,’ said Rowena.
‘Really!’ exclaimed Aubrette.
‘Apparently, you made an impression on the duke, and he wishes you to attend him.’ Rowena held open the door, waiting for Aubrette to pass through. ‘Just remember to do your duty, whatever you are required to do.’
‘What does he expect me to do?’ Aubrette asked innocently, not realising the reason for the call.
Rowena gave her a solemn look. ‘What did my husband boast of with another man’s wife?’
Aubrette looked horrified. ‘Surely not!’ she gasped, backing away.
Rowena’s blank face was her answer. ‘They command and we obey. Just remember the relationship of my husband to the duke and try not to embarrass my husband’s name.’
Rowena returned silently to the great hall and her husband, leaving Aubrette to find her own way to the royal apartments.
As if her arrival had been expected, Aubrette was allowed to pass through the guards outside Duke Richard’s rooms. Her heart was pounding with fear as she crossed the threshold and was led by a page through chambers, each smaller than the last, until she reached the room where Duke Richard was waiting.
The room was intimately small as Aubrette looked around. There were people milling about, laughing, eating, drinking and involved in carnal eroticism. This was a very private gathering to which only a select few had been invited. She saw that the women were bare-breasted and the men were half-naked. This was not a gathering that Aubrette wished to attend and she attempted to back out of the apartments. The guards barred her way, gruffly telling her she would leave once the duke gave permission. And so, she was captured here, unwillingly.
The duke saw her and smiled as he approached. He put an arm over her shoulder, holding her, and pulled her further into the room.
‘This is her, the one I was telling you about,’ he proudly announced, and there was a buzz of admiration for the duke. He looked at Aubrette, still smiling, and pushed her forward. ‘Go on, tell everyone what occurred earlier.’
She looked up at him with a pleading look, hoping he might release her if she related the event in the alley. ‘My lord duke saved me from my attacker,’ she simply said, her voice small. There was a second murmur of admiration from the crowd as they all gazed wondrously at Richard. He puffed out his chest, clearly proud of his actions.
‘Will you have the girl before us, Dickon?’ a voice called from the back. Aubrette turned her head round to this question. The duke was nodding, tightening his hold around her shoulders. ‘Aye, and then she shall be anyone else’s.’ He waved his free hand. ‘Continue, continue, my friends; the night is young and the hours stretch away for us.’
This was the cue needed and Aubrette watched in horror as the guests all melted back, turning to each other and touching each other with over familiarity. Breasts were fondled and sucked, while cocks were stroked and squeezed; audible moans of climatic pleasure filled the room.
Richard drew Aubrette into a smaller chamber that was occupied by a large bed, waiting for his exclusive use. Sitting in a chair was the elegant young man who had been seen at the royal arrival. He was wearing only an open silk wrap, exposing his genitals with no shame. He looked at the duke with hooded eyes, framed by long, thick eyelashes, and ran a long finger across his hirsute chest seductively. Richard laughed at the wanton action.
‘Later,
Hugh, there will be time for us later. Here is my first choice of the evening,’ the duke announced.
Hugh pouted like a spoilt child and glared at Aubrette, who was now trembling with fright. She was beginning to realise what this was leading to, and that she was unable to escape. ‘Please, sir, may I be allowed to leave now? I have had a disagreeable day and wish to return to my bed. I have my master and mistress to comfort me,’ Aubrette pleaded.
The duke shook his head, laughing. ‘Nay maid, you are here to thank me for saving you from that man’s assault. You shall show your gratitude. Now, undress and climb in the bed. Hugh!’ The duke turned to Hugh, who still sulkily watching. ‘Have her first while I watch.’
‘Richard, surely you don’t want me to do that?’ he exclaimed, totally aghast. ‘I thought you loved me.’
Richard looked affectionately at the young man. ‘Come now, Hugh, we all have to do it eventually.’
‘But with a woman!’ His distaste was blatantly obvious.
Aubrette knew what the duke was referring to and wanted to back out of the room. She wanted to run and hide behind Simon; he would look after her and protect her. She entreated again to Duke Richard, now knowing the other man was as reluctant. Richard looked between them; he was intending to enjoy his sport this evening and would not be deterred by a mere maid. He was quick to anger and expected his orders to be obeyed without question. He repeated his words to Aubrette to undress. Knowing it was useless to refuse, and knowing how this was to end, she stripped and climbed onto the bed. From the other room, there was a loud scream of ecstasy from a woman. Above her voice, others cheered uproariously.
In this small room, the duke made an impatient signal to Hugh, who, sighing, rose gracefully from his chair, allowing the wrap to slip silently to the floor. He approached Aubrette. He was supple and had a natural grace, as he held out a hand and she noticed how long and manicured his jewelled fingers were. He raised her hand to his lips in a soft kiss; he was no soldier or manual worker, and Aubrette could detect a sweet fragrance. When he spoke directly to her, his voice was gentle.