The Woodville Connection

by K. E. Martin

  “As the months passed by, it must have occurred to Sir Stephen that far from hastening Geoffrey’s death I was in fact prolonging it. Strangely, he seemed not to care that his fiendish plan had failed and left us alone to enjoy our existence as best we could. In truth, the only change that occurred in our circumstances was one that proved to be entirely for the better and I give hearty thanks to the Almighty for the miracle that He sent us.

  “There came to the chamber one April day a woman by the name of Mistress Blanche, a waiting woman newly arrived at Plaincourt. She told me she had leave from Sir Stephen to tend to the boy now and then, being reputed, so she said, for her knowledge in the healing arts. For all that Mistress Blanche was the most wondrously fair female I had ever beheld, yet I was loath to let her minister to my Geoffrey for fear her intentions were base. With hair as black as the ink on Master Caxton’s printing press, tumbling in loose curls nigh on to her tiny waist and with eyes the hue of spring violets set in an oval face as smooth and pale as a dove’s downy wing, she was lovelier than living flesh has any right to be.

  “I trusted her not and bade her begone, back to the devil whence she came. She just laughed at me and with an audacity I could scarce believe, stood high on her dainty feet and planted a fleeting kiss, right here on my ill-figured cheek. ‘Give this to the boy,’ she whispered in a honey-sweet voice, placing a small greasy package in my callused hand. I made to fling the packet back at her but she had already turned on her nimble feet and vanished from the passageway like a startled sprite.

  “Geoffrey was lying abed as usual and he called me to him, bidding me show him what the strange woman had left behind. I opened the cloth-wrapped package and uncovered a large square of gingerbread, fresh baked by the smell of it and moistly sticky to the touch. Geoffrey’s eyes grew round with longing, for treats of this nature were infrequent for the boy. He was fed well enough but mostly on naught more tempting than pottage and similar slops, Sir Stephen having declared that richer fare was more than his delicate state could manage.

  “Thus I understood the lad’s craving for the rare sweetmeat all too well but refused to give any to him until I had broken off a sizeable portion and eaten it myself. ‘Twas not selfish gluttony on my part, as Geoffrey fretfully accused, but a precaution I deemed needful to ensure the food was untainted by any poison. Several hours later, when I had suffered no ill-effects, I considered it safe to give Geoffrey leave to devour what remained of the delicacy. He did so with obvious relish though he remained sullen and resentful towards me for the rest of that day.

  “After this first visit Mistress Blanche took to calling upon us on a daily basis. I mistrusted her still but Geoffrey became fond of her and looked with pathetic eagerness toward her visits. She would bring such small gifts of sweetmeats and delicacies as she could filch from the kitchen and sit with the boy, singing to him in her clear, tuneful voice or teaching him to play chequers. After that first time there was no need for me to taste the edible treats she brought Geoffrey as she always took some of them herself, sensing mayhap that I was as yet uncertain of her and suspectful of foul play. She showed no sign of resenting my hostility toward her and indeed, in time, began to converse with me as amiably as she did with Geoffrey.

  “It grieves me to recall how at first I strongly resisted her overtures of friendship since I now know her to be the kindest, truest woman ever gifted to man by God. The exceptional beauty of her countenance is surpassed only by the beauty of her spirit. Suspicious cur that I was, I did her much wrong in believing her angelic soul capable of harming my dear boy. She came to us from simple goodness of heart, having heard tell of the lonely existence we endured confined day in and out in Geoffrey’s fusty chamber. All this I came to see in time though it shames me that it took so long.

  “When finally Blanche had won my trust, I asked her how it was she had obtained permission from Sir Stephen to spend time with Geoffrey. She answered that it had been achieved with difficulty. At her first request he had bellowed at her for her insolence and threatened to send her from Plaincourt should she persist in meddling in his affairs. Nothing daunted, the blessed girl held firm. Displaying what I consider rare courage for such a slip of a thing, she hinted to the vile man of her high-placed friends who would be deep distressed to learn of Geoffrey’s sorry treatment should she be denied her will in this matter. Plaincourt crumbled like three-day bread at this threat, my beautiful and cunning Blanche told me, and thus she had her way.

  “My lord, I may as well now confess that I came to love the beautiful Mistress Blanche with all my heart. Moreover, to my unbounding bewilderment and joy, I discovered that she returned my devotion in full measure. It scarcely seems possible that even an ill-favoured woman could feel affection for me; how much more miraculous is it, then, that the fairest woman on earth gives her heart and soul to me? I understand it not but praise the Almighty daily that it is indeed so. Blanche herself tells me that the goodness of my heart shines through the ravages of my poor face and it is the man inside she loves, not the damaged shell that houses him. ‘Tis foolish woman’s chatter, I avow, and yet ‘tis the only explanation I have for the miracle that has befallen me.

  “We took pains, of course, to disguise our affection for one another, knowing well what would occur should Sir Stephen come to hear of it. My Blanche would have been expelled from the manor in an instant and I would have been unable to follow her, having sworn to remain at Geoffrey’s side until he drew his last breath. And so we conducted our love affair in secret, snatching kisses here and there, content enough in our hearts and minds to be together yet ever hungering for more. It seemed we were doomed to spend long, heavy hours together in the same small chamber without ever once tasting the sweet fruit of our passion. Forgive my bluntness, my lord, but the fire of our desire burned strong and yet we knew no solace, until all unknowingly young Geoffrey gave us the chance to finally satisfy our yearning.

  “It happened that whilst Blanche and I had been growing ever more deeply attached to one another, my sad young master suffered a dreadful weakening in his already frail condition, developing a hacking cough that in its ferocity and persistence left him quite exhausted. I watched my precious charge struggle with this fierce affliction and longed to wrest the demon sickness from his wasted body with mine own two hands. The nights were the worst for Geoffrey; sleep eluded him and none of my fussing and finicking brought him any comfort.

  “I knew that I was losing him and the knowledge seared my soul as agonisingly as the flaming torch had once seared my face. Useless dolt that I am, all I could do was rail at fate and pray. It was left to my clever little Blanche to hit on a way to relieve the lad’s suffering and mayhap even preserve his life a short while longer.

  “Using her woman’s knowledge of herbs and grasses, she concocted a potion that would help Geoffrey sleep peaceful as a babe throughout the night, granting him the rest he so sorely needed to combat the sickness inside him. I shook with terror the first time Blanche gave Geoffrey a draught of the potion, mixing it into some strong ale to hide the taste of the strange-looking liquid. I was afeared lest aught go amiss but to my unending relief, it worked much better than I had dared hope. For the first time in many days Geoffrey slept deeply from sunset to sunrise and awoke feeling rested and happy.

  “When we realised how soundly Geoffrey slept with the aid of her potion, my angel and I knew that we could consummate our love in his chamber without fear of awakening and alarming him. Somehow my darling contrived to locate a spare key to the chamber and, by means of this, was able to enter and leave at will without drawing attention to herself. I know ‘tis true we sinned in the eyes of God by lying together without the blessing of Holy Mother Church but I’ll not feign contrition where none is truly felt. In any case, no mumbling dotard of a priest could have made our union more holy and more wonderful than it was on that first night or any night thereafter, come to that.

  “Pardon me, my lord, if I dwell over much on the glory of
my love for Mistress Blanche but I am reluctant to leave that happiness behind and move on to the part of my tale that fills my heart with horror whenever my thoughts turn to it. And yet it must be told. Blanche and I had been lovers for upwards of fourteen nights. Every night my young charge slept a little longer and with every passing day I felt certain that he must be recovering his strength thanks to Blanche’s physic. All was well, and then disaster struck.

  “On this dreadful evening, Blanche came to the chamber at her usual time and stirred the draught into Geoffrey’s bedtime ale. She hugged him as he drank it down and promised to bring a sugared comfit when she came to visit him next morn.

  “‘You are my darling boy,’ she told him fondly, and Geoffrey curled contentedly into his pillows and fell asleep. ‘And now, my love,’ she whispered to me, ‘Sir Stephen has visitors to whom I must attend but I’ll be back with you as soon as my duties allow.’

  “I caught her to me as she passed towards the door and held her in a passionate embrace. She kissed me tenderly and then I released her, confident that we would share many more such kisses before the night was too much older.

  “A few minutes after she had gone Sir Stephen arrived, as was his habit, to lock Geoffrey and I into our chamber for the night. I smiled to myself as I heard his key turning in the lock for I knew that my dearest girl would let herself in using the spare key that Plaincourt had so foolishly left lying about for her to discover.

  “I awoke next morning with a head as thick and woolly as a ram’s backside. My senses were all awry and it took me several minutes to realise that I was lying in a sprawling heap, face down on the cold, hard floor. My left temple throbbed most damnably and a sticky substance, blood as I later discovered, glued a lock of hair across my eye. Before I had time for further thought, the chamber door was flung wide and Sir Stephen strode in, accompanied by his two most vicious henchmen.

  “‘God’s blood!’ he exclaimed angrily when he found me on the floor, ‘is this what I pay you for? To roll about like a drunken hog half the morn whilst your young master languishes abed! Rouse yourself at once, man, and look to the boy.’

  “I made to utter a few words of explanation for my condition but could find none for I was much bewildered by it, and knew not how to defend myself. In any case Plaincourt disregarded my mumblings and walked towards the bed, calling to Geoffrey to bestir himself. As I struggled to regain my feet a savage kick from Sir Stephen caught me off guard and I collapsed once more to the floor. ‘You miserable wretch,’ he hissed at me, ‘you have done my poor nephew to death!’

  “This wild accusation sobered me more suddenly than a visitation from the Archangel Gabriel could have done. Unmindful of my head injury, I leapt to my feet and lurched towards the bed but Plaincourt’s bearded henchmen grabbed my arms and held me firm. ‘Geoffrey!’ I remember shouting, ‘Geoffrey, speak to me! For the love of Christ, lad, speak to me!’

  “But there was no reply from the motionless figure in the bed. With one almighty effort I pulled away from my captors and ran to Geoffrey’s side. I caught his frail body in my arms and shook him in a desperate attempt to rouse him, all the while knowing in my heart that it was futile. Geoffrey was dead. A sob rose in my throat but I caught it there and buried my head against my poor boy’s bony chest.

  “‘What the…..? Master, look at this!’ exclaimed one of Plaincourt’s lackeys in a voice laden with meaning, but I ignored him and continued to cradle Geoffrey’s fragile corpse in my arms. Then I felt Sir Stephen’s strong hands shaking me roughly so I looked up, intent on knocking the irritant away, but instead my attention was fixed by the evil gleam I beheld in his eyes.

  “‘Pray what explanation have you for this?’ he sneered, jerking his head disdainfully towards a heavy pitcher lying on the floor, close to where I had been sleeping. I gawped at the pitcher, not understanding its relevance, ignorant of Plaincourt’s meaning, conscious only that my happy world had come crashing down about me with the death of my crippled, luckless charge. ‘Geoffrey,’ I crooned, ‘Geoffrey, my poor boy, what have they done to you?’

  “Plaincourt’s laugh was loud and brutal. ‘It’s no use pretending ignorance, Yorke, it’s what you have done that the justices will be interested in. It all becomes clear to me now! You became sodden with drink last night and set about my nephew in a drunken rage, whereupon he tried to defend himself with that pitcher.

  “‘No,’ he jeered, forestalling the interruption I was about to make, ‘do not trouble to deny it. There is blood on the rim of the pitcher and I see you have a fresh cut above your eye. Geoffrey must have struck you with the pitcher using all the feeble force that he could summon, causing you to fall back upon the floor unconscious. Then, weakened by his sickness, he succumbed to the injuries you had inflicted upon him and expired.’

  “I saw here how I might defend myself at last. ‘Where are these injuries you say I inflicted? Look for yourself, there’s not a mark upon the boy! Anyway, all know that I love him and would never do him harm. Ask any of the servants, they all know the truth of it.’

  “I saw Plaincourt ponder the truth of this for a moment.

  “‘Then how does he come to be dead?’ he asked me in a more reasonable tone.

  “‘Truly, I know not,’ I groaned. ‘I can only guess that mayhap his condition worsened in the night.’

  “Sir Stephen seemed to be considering what I said but then his countenance darkened and he frowned.

  “‘No more than a few days since, you yourself told me my nephew was sleeping longer and as a result his condition was improving,’ he shouted. ‘Why should he suddenly die when he has been faring so much better? No, no, it makes no sense at all.’

  “He moved closer to me and crouched low over the bed, smoothing Geoffrey’s hair with a gesture that struck me as oddly tender coming from a man who throughout the lad’s short life had dealt him naught but cruelty. Mayhap he finally felt remorseful, who can say? He remained next to me for a few seconds, stroking the dead boy’s lifeless face and endeavouring to wipe away what I took to be a speck of dribble from the corner of his mouth.

  “The speck refused to move and Plaincourt peered at it more closely, bending over Geoffrey’s body until he was nearly touching it. Clamping hold of the lad’s stiffened jaw with one hand, he used the other to prise Geoffrey’s lips apart and withdrew a small white feather from his mouth.

  “The servants in the room gasped in wonder as they saw what their master held in his right fist and I flinched as he rounded on me in anger. ‘Suffocation! That’s how you slew him. I see it now. You took this pillow and placed it over his face. In his desperate struggle for breath Geoffrey managed to grasp the pitcher and dash it against your skull but the blow did little harm to one as hell-hard as you, you stinking cur. Your grip remained firm until the boy breathed his last and then you slumped to the floor in your drunken stupor. Murderer!’

  “My world turned as he all but spat this last at me. I tried to find the words to refute the charge but was given little chance. All at once the henchmen were upon me with stout ropes and my legs and arms were tightly bound. I struggled with all my might and could perchance have made some headway but Plaincourt rounded on me with venom in his eyes and struck me full under the chin with a blow of surprising force. As I was dragged from the chamber, dazed with grief and desperate to refute these false accusations, I did briefly wonder how it was that Plaincourt’s men came to have the restraining ropes so conveniently to hand.

  “The foul cell they locked me in was tucked away at the back of the manor, well hidden from the prying eyes of the villagers. A thin layer of dirty straw upon the earthen floor comprised my only comfort; there was no bed nor stool and not the smallest shaft of sunlight pierced the enveloping gloom. Yet on my immortal soul I swear I cared nothing for my discomfort but thought only of Geoffrey and the dreadful thing that had been done to him. In the long, dark hours that I spent alone in my prison, I examined my conscious most keenly, straining to recall
the events of the previous evening that I might unravel the mystery of my poor young charge’s death.

  “Even as I berated myself for failing to protect him, I knew as surely as I know my own name that I was innocent of the fell charge laid against me. There were many questions that remained unanswered but I was fully satisfied that I stood unjustly accused. In my misery, this was one of the two thoughts that consoled me. The second was that Blanche would never believe in my guilt. Sweet Blanche, who knew my love for the lad to be genuine and knew also of my habit to drink but little! She would know for a falsehood the assertion that I had smothered Geoffrey whilst in the grip of a drunken rage. Even now, when the bright happiness of my recent life had been snuffed out with Geoffrey’s death, a flicker of gladness still remained in the memory of Blanche’s fond affection.

  “I was dwelling on these thoughts and others when the narrow door of the cell opened slowly and by a gleam of candlelight I saw a hooded figure move silently towards me. ‘So now it ends,’ I thought, believing that Plaincourt had sent someone to slit my throat and silence me forever. I could defend myself, I knew, for my bonds had been untied as I was flung into the prison but I remained impassive, ready to accept without a struggle the kiss of cold steel against my skin.

  “A kiss I did indeed receive, but one of warm and lovely living flesh against my unshaven cheek. Her perfume filled my nostrils and my overwhelming love for her filled up my heart. For the second time that day I felt that I could cry as copiously as a virgin on her wedding night. ‘Blanche!’ I managed to gasp, before her soft sweet mouth descended on my own and silenced me. Yet all too soon she drew away from me.