by Deryn Lake
Excited by all that lay ahead, Robert hurried his horse home. But as soon as he walked into the hall and saw his steward’s face, knew that something had happened in his absence.
‘Well?’ he said.
‘There’s a person to see you, Master. A female person.’
‘Who is she?’
‘She says that she has ridden from Maighfield and that her business is urgent.’
‘Then I’ll receive her. Show her into the library.’
It had to be Debora! Nobody else would dare call at this hour of the evening. Hardly able to believe this latest twist of fate, Robert went to stand before the fire, adopting a masterful pose, and wondering which side of her strange personality would present itself to him.
She came into the room almost meekly, her gaze cast to the floor, and it was impossible to read from her face which role she had chosen to play.
Rather uncertainly, Robert said, ‘What can I do to help you, Goodwife?’
She raised her eyes and he was shocked to see that they were swollen with weeping.
‘I have come to throw myself on your mercy, Master. I have run away from Richard and my father has forbidden me to show my face in Maighfield again. I am wondering if you would give me work at Glynde, that I might at least have a roof over my head.’
He surveyed her somewhat coldly. ‘Goodwife, I have not had good treatment at your hands. The first time we met we became lovers and I believed this was because there was an attraction between us. But when I saw you again you had married another to give our son a name, and you treated me with contempt. Yet last time we spoke you gave me a look in which I read strange thoughts but not those of love. Why should I help you now?’
‘Because I am the mother of your child.’
‘It is true I should make provision for him but he is not even with you.’
Debora turned away, staring out of the window at the dusky parkland.
‘There is another reason.’
‘What is that?’
‘That a part of me loves you still.’
He stood wavering, not really wanting further involvement with such an extraordinary woman, and then the transformation took place. He saw the delicate sad face, so close to his, harden, he saw the lips part and the eyes widen and grow dark.
‘You want me, don’t you, you mad creature?’ he said.
She did not answer but instead swept her hands over his body without any shame or sense of decency. Robert was outraged that here, in his own library at Glynde, he should be subjected to such an attack.
‘Debora ...’ he began, but she would not let him speak, kissing him as only she was able to.
In an atmosphere of mounting excitement the girl whispered, ‘Let me stay tonight at least, Robert.’
He knew that she was probably crazed; that she was certainly dangerous; that he was a fool; but as Robert took her into his, arms he heard himself say, ‘You can stay as long as you like. It would take very little to make me fall in love with you.’
Then they spoke no more as Robert entered a sinister paradise, yet a paradise that he never wanted to leave again.
*
With an important clip-clop of her shoes, Maud crossed the cobbles of the palace quadrangle and made her way to the kitchens, smiling with malice. The master cook had sent for her to hear the latest gossip, for what a remarkable year it had been! As if the discovery that Debora’s child had been fathered by Benjamin Mist had not been enough, there had come the revelation that the affair was still going on, that Jenna had come home and caught them in the very act of coupling. And this had led to an extraordinary scene in which Debora had run stark naked through the village, men whistling, women calling ‘Whore’, and little boys throwing stones.
Of course that had been the end of her. She had never dared show her face in Maighfield again. That very evening Debora had disappeared and no one had had sight nor sound of her since. Some even went so far as to say she was dead, while others held that she had gone to London to take up prostitution. It was all most intriguing and delightful.
And that had not been the end of the story by any means. As a result of the scandal, Richard Maynard had turned to drink and these days was scarcely fit to conduct his business; while the deserted baby was being brought up by a servant who said the master never even looked at it. Jenna, in her turn, had returned to Daniel’s cottage and left her work at the palace, going instead to Baynden to help out. Yet most exciting of all was Benjamin’s reaction.
It was Maud’s opinion that Jenna’s spell on him was still at work, for he had grown thin and haggard and unkempt, his dreamy eyes bloodshot with lack of sleep. This had given rise to a question: why had he continued to make love to Debora if under Jenna’s thrall? Maud thought she knew the answer. Debora had used an even stronger spell on him, probably purchased from a descendant of Mabel Briggs, who had practised witchcraft in Maighfield long before Alice Casselowe was even born.
And this day, as Maud took her seat in the kitchens before an eager audience, someone called, ‘Have you seen aught of Jenna?’ and she was able to reply, ‘Aye, I called on Daniel the other evening. She is keeping well and often plays with Debora’s baby, poor motherless little thing. But be it Benjamin’s or be it not, Daniel has threatened to kill the carpenter if he does not leave his daughter alone.’
This was a new piece of information and there was an appreciative murmur.
‘Has he been pestering her?’
‘He has been outside Daniel’s cottage, begging to see Jenna, every minute that he is not working or sleeping. But she will have no dealings with him. And the other night saw the end of it. Daniel and some of the lads threw him in the river and threatened him with worse if he ever showed his face again.’
‘So she’ll never go back to him?’
Maud opened her mouth to reply but the master cook got in before her. ‘Jenna is a kind-hearted girl. I think he might get round her yet.’
‘Perhaps he should put a spell on her!’ said a wit, and there was a burst of laughter in which Maud eventually joined.
‘Enough of this,’ said the master cook. ‘It’s time you all got back to work. Now Maud, may I offer you a jug of ale?’
‘Oh most gladly,’ she said, settling down, and hoping that she might glean some information about Master Tom’s latest exploits. ‘It is always a pleasure to drink here at the palace.’
*
At harvest time that year all the village seemed to be at work in the fields gathering the golden crop that would feed them for another winter. In the fierce, fine air the sickles flashed until the sun went down and then, when it was too dark to see, the harvesters plodded home in the gloaming, talking quietly, too tired to hurry or shout.
At Baynden everyone turned out, even the baby being brought along to the fields to sit in his sun bonnet and watch the proceedings, wide-eyed. From the little cottage, Daniel and his two daughters came to help; Agnes, as always, carrying her lute, and their food wrapped in a handkerchief.
It was the custom to stop briefly when the sun was at its highest and spread the bread and cheese out on a cloth. Then everyone would eat and drink before continuing with the afternoon’s work. But this day Jenna ate scarcely nothing and Agnes, wondering what was wrong, saw her sister’s hand go briefly to her stomach.
‘Have you a pain?’ she asked, but Jenna shook her head, not meeting her glance. Puzzled, Agnes picked up the lute, playing while the others ate, totally unaware that her sister was experiencing the most incredible sensation known to woman. Within Jenna’s womb it seemed a butterfly had woken from its chrysalis; wings stretched and fluttered; a soul found a dwelling place. The babe, the very existence of which was a secret known only to its mother, was quickening into life.
She had wanted to be rid of it when she had first discovered its presence. And the formula was there, in Alice Casselowe’s book, amongst all the other potions and cure-alls. Jenna had mixed it up and stood alone before her mirror, the cup in her
hand, and had remained like that for an age, her green-gold eyes going from the cup to her stomach, flat and lean as ever, revealing nothing.
She had known then that she was deceiving herself, that she could never destroy a life put there by Benjamin, that she still loved him and would continue to do so until she died. With a crash she had dropped the cup to the floor, watching the dark red contents spread like blood. Then she had gone to bed and wept herself into sleep. Now here, in the field at Baynden, Benjamin’s child fluttered inside her.
Jenna looked up and caught Richard’s eye, seeing in it the strangely speculative expression he had worn of late.
Yet again she had the uncomfortable feeling he lusted for her and this, coupled with the eagerness with which he had given her work and his many calls bearing gifts, led her to the conclusion that his attitude had gone from one extreme to the other — his old feelings of dislike had given way to desire.
As if he knew what she was thinking he stood up and crossed over, sitting down beside her. His voice was drowned by the sound of Agnes’s lute so nobody heard when he murmured, ‘How beautiful you are, Jenna. It would give me pleasure if you were to sup with me at Baynden when the work is done.’
‘I don’t think ...’ she began, but he interrupted with, ‘Please. It would be a kindness. Besides, I want to tell you something in confidence, something I cannot say here.’
‘What about?’
Richard answered intriguingly, ‘Debora. She has been seen. Will you come?’
Jenna’s natural curiosity overcame her better judgement. ‘Yes. I’ll visit for a while.’
His pale features lit up and his mouth curved into a smile. ‘Then I shall expect you.’
Before she had time to change her mind, Richard stood and picked up his sickle, indicating to the others that their midday break was over.
*
Despite the fact that it was only an hour after sunset, Benjamin was asleep; stretched out, fully dressed, on his bed, his face flushed with drink. He was dreaming a vaguely familiar dream in which he raced on horseback across bright sands, two tunicked boys beside him. As he shot into the lead, his horse seemed to bolt, and with a start Benjamin woke up and in a panic reached out for Jenna. There was no one there, no lean body next to his, no dark musky-scented hair lying on the bolster beside him. He was completely alone.
‘Oh God have mercy,’ he said aloud. ‘I must get her back. I must.’
He sat up straight, realising something for the first time. If Jenna had been giving him love potions, as he had suspected and the wretched Debora confirmed, then there was no question that she could be doing so now. And yet he loved her more, if that was possible.
Lighting a candle, Benjamin sat with his head in his hands, trying to clear his ale-befuddled brain, and eventually, in the darkest hours of the night the answer came to him. Jenna was his soulmate, but it had taken their parting to make him realise it.
With a wild shout, Benjamin leapt out of bed and went down the ladder. He had to see her again, make one last desperate attempt to get her back. Nothing could stop him — and even death at the hands of Jenna’s father would be better than continuing a life without her.
*
Pouring himself another glass of wine, Richard Maynard said, ‘I am so glad you came tonight, my dear. It is a long time since I have dined in the company of a beautiful woman.’
He was not yet drunk but had had enough liquor to loosen his tongue, and his companion was already wishing that she had not come. However, remembering why she was there, Jenna said, ‘You have news of Debora, I believe. Where is she?’
‘At Glynde,’ Richard said shortly. ‘Working as a servant in Glynde Place. And being serviced by the Master, no doubt.’
So it was true! Robert Morley had responded to Jenna’s spell and had bedded the girl.
Mistaking her expression, Richard said, ‘A terrible thought I agree. She has cast us both into the abyss, Jenna. But there is a way in which we can be avenged, the pair of us, if you are agreeable.’
‘And what is that?’
He smiled unpleasantly. ‘I’ll tell you when we have eaten.’
He had prepared a good board for her; mutton flavoured with sauce, a crisp brown goose, Rhenish, a cake of sweetened spiced bread, and several types of English fruit. Jenna, eating hungrily now that her babe was quiet, was grudgingly grateful to him. Yet no quantity of good food could allay the disquiet that the tenant of Baynden aroused in her.
Richard, however, ate little, contenting himself with wine, whilst staring fixedly at his guest and waiting until Jenna had finished before saying in a slightly slurred voice, ‘I’m going to be direct with you, my dear. I overheard a conversation you once had with Agnes. I believe you think young Richard is not mine.’
‘Yes,’ she answered slowly. ‘That’s true. It is very charitable of you to keep him here, in my opinion.’
‘Oh it’s not charity.’ Maynard stood up. ‘It is to lure Debora home.’
‘You want her back?’
‘Yes. Not because I love her, believe me. No, I want to get my revenge. I want to teach her to be a dutiful wife if it is the last thing I do.’
Jenna shivered, aware that he had come to stand behind her and wondering what move he was going to make next.
‘I spoke earlier of how we could both be avenged. I’ll tell you my thoughts, Jenna. Let you and I become lovers and turn the wheel full circle. Every time we pleasure ourselves we will be mocking the adulterers, paying them back in their own coin.’
Jenna turned to look at him and saw that the pale skin had two high spots of colour in either cheek. It occurred to her then that Richard was slightly crazed.
She stood up also. ‘Goodman Maynard, please stop. I have no wish to be your lover — or anyone else’s. Please don’t speak like this.’
‘Why not?’ he said, lunging for her. ‘Don’t you find me attractive, is that it? Or are you just playing coy like that bitch Debora?’
His hands were pawing at Jenna’s breasts and his mouth came down on hers in a hard, horrible kiss. With his foot she realised he was raising the hem of her skirt and, before she could stop him, he had pulled the material into his hand and was dragging it upwards. She felt his fingers on her thigh.
‘Let me have you,’ he said. ‘No one will come in.’
‘No,’ she shouted, pushing helplessly at him. ‘I don’t want it. Leave me alone.’
He began to laugh, enjoying her struggling.
‘I’ll scream so loudly someone will come,’ she said.
For answer he put one hand over her mouth, bending her back over the chair. She could feel him trying to enter her. With an enormous effort she pulled her knees up and kicked him hard in the stomach, the chair toppling over as she did so. He lay on the floor, winded, and seizing her moment, Jenna ran past him and out of the room, then out through the door and down towards Daniel’s cottage, gasping for breath as she went.
In her panic she did not see the tree root in her way and, as her foot caught in it, would have gone flying had it not been for a strong pair of arms that caught her.
‘Oh my darling,’ said a voice. ‘Why are you running like that? What has happened?’
Gratefully she turned — and saw that it was Benjamin.
*
Hours later, lying in her husband’s arms, Jenna thought how strange it was that the same act could be both beautiful and hideous. If Richard had raped her she would have felt corrupted and debased, but within hours of his attack she and Benjamin had made love. She had felt his hands on her, felt him, hard and demanding, and it had been both glorious and exciting.
He had been so tender to her, had walked so caringly with her back to Daniel’s, that she had not been able to tell him about Richard then or later. Nor had she told her father. It was best that neither of them knew.
But when Benjamin had turned to go, leaving her at the cottage door, the droop of his shoulders, the quiver of his lips, had been so tragic that a
ll her resolve had vanished on the instant.
‘I love you,’ she had said without meaning to, the words tumbling out on their own.
‘Oh Jenna.’ She had never seen him weep before but now he broke down, sobbing desperately and hiding his face in shame. She could see that he was wrecked by all that had happened, and this left her no choice. She had walked into the cottage and said to her father, ‘Curse me for a weak-willed fool but I cannot help myself. I still love Benjamin.’
‘Thank God,’ was all he said, and he had embraced her.
‘But I thought you wanted to kill him.’
‘He has been punished enough for what he did. Go back to him and live in peace.’
They had returned to the carpenter’s cottage as a family, for, no sooner were they inside the door than she had told him about the babe. He had knelt to kiss the place where it grew in a way that somehow gave Jenna the idea it had happened before.
And now as she lay in her marriage bed, feeling the mysterious ring still on her finger, she thought about the future, wondering if she would have many children. Beside her Benjamin slept peacefully. Jenna knew then that he truly loved her, even though no spell or potion had been involved. Her heart rose with joy and she finally fell asleep resolving that the very next day she would burn Alice Casselowe’s book.
Twenty-nine
Seeing spring come again to the magic valley, Jenna and Benjamin walked hand in hand by the river. Benjamin’s touch was firm on Jenna’s long fingers, there was gentleness in it and love.
Though the winter had been long and hard, holding back the flowers and buds, the earth had now relentlessly burgeoned forth and everything trembled on the brink. Lambs, born into snowdrifts, suckled by their mothers, wobbled about on woolly legs, raising their frail voices in the anthem of regeneration.