An Earthly Knight
Page 9
Jenny was pleased to get her way, but dismayed as well. “My lady! When has Galiene called me anything but Jenny?” she said as soon as they were out of earshot. “We can sew in the shade of the chapel. Oh, Isabel, I do wish you could come with me.”
Isabel said nothing until they had settled themselves on the grass. Then, she kept her eyes on her work. “I would love to see Eudo, but everyone in Lilliesleaf must know of my disgrace, Jenny. I would only harm your chances with Earl William.”
Jenny sighed. “Isabel, you bear all this with such good cheer. I cannot think I would do as well in your place.”
Isabel smiled. “Your good fortune has given me time to think, at least.”
“And are you ready to confess now?”
Tears came to Isabel’s eyes. “Jenny, if I confess, I will be sent to Coldstream. The more Brother Turgis tells me of the life there, the more I fear it. The Cistercians feel that bathing delights the flesh too greatly. They wash only their hands and faces. What a harsh life it will be.”
“There must be some way out of this.”
Isabel shook her head. “Father will not keep me forever. A man would have to want me for his wife, just as I am. No one will.” Her shoulders sagged. “Especially now that . . .” She stopped abruptly.
“Now that what? Please, let there be no more secrets between us, Isabel,” Jenny coaxed.
“Father learned from Brother Bertrand that Earl William will not consider a lass without a tocher. He has taken most of my tocher for you.”
So Tam Lin had spoken true. “But Isabel, will the Church allow this?”
Isabel nodded. “The king is a great friend of the Church and he wishes Earl William to wed, so the abbot at Rowanwald sought permission for Father and it was granted. I only know because Brother Turgis told me, to help me appreciate the mercy of the Church. Taking me without a tocher is a great kindness, he says, though it will lower me within the priory.”
Jenny knew that everyone’s position within holy orders was determined by rank and wealth, just as it was in the world at large. “Then you will be little more than a servant. Oh, Isabel, I have left you without hope.”
“Jenny, hope left me the day I returned here alone. All the way back, I imagined what I did might be understood, but when I told my story to Father, I knew I would be disgraced forever in the eyes of men.”
“No, Isabel, not in everyone’s eyes. Do you know there are folk who think you a hero?”
“How can that be? How could you know such a thing?”
“Cospatric told me. He came here because he heard the stories. The folk even sing of you.” Jenny could see Isabel struggling to take this in.
“But no one will forgive me for what I did. You see how Father treats me, how Brother Bertrand did.”
“Aye, Isabel, among the nobles you are disgraced. But why? We are taught that a woman should always bow before a man of her rank or better, even when he means to harm her. But what of those who must always bow? They see you with different eyes. Isabel, to them you acted with honour. You should believe them.“
Isabel took up her sewing and Jenny said nothing, giving her sister time to think.
After a long silence Isabel said, “The harper is a good man, Jenny, is he not?”
“Aye, Isabel, I think he is,” Jenny said.
Isabel smiled a little. “I never knew he came here because of me. Do you suppose he cares for riches?”
“I think he cares for them not at all.”
Nothing more was said, but that afternoon at her singing lesson, Jenny looked at Cospatric with new eyes. He was older than Isabel, but no one ever thought that a drawback in a man. He was fair enough to look upon, with kindly brown eyes and a face creased by laughter, his curly dark hair and beard just touched with grey. He was a patient and gentle teacher, serious about his music and skilled, but not vain. Under any other circumstances, his rank would have placed him beyond consideration as a match for Isabel. But now, Jenny wondered. It was next to impossible, but the things that had already happened to Isabel seemed even less likely.
And what of Cospatric himself? How did he feel about Isabel? As the singing lesson progressed, Jenny watched for some sign. He was kindly and polite as ever, but beyond that there was nothing. His feelings were hidden under a heavy cloak of proper deference. She sighed to herself. Cospatric would behave exactly the same whether he loved Isabel or loathed her. That was part of his role.
Combing her hair at bedtime that night, Jenny thought about her new tocher—a real tocher, for most of her father’s wealth that was not bound up in land had gone to Isabel’s marriage fee over the years. If things had not changed so, nothing could have persuaded Jenny to accept what was rightfully Isabel’s as the eldest daughter. But if Jenny’s thoughts about Cospatric were not too wild to be real, the loss of the tocher might help free Isabel from a life in holy orders. The Church would not fight to receive a lass without wealth.
And what would this tocher do for Jenny?
Surely it would make her more appealing to Earl William. Aye, Jenny thought, but what lass wishes to be loved for her wealth? She wondered what Tam Lin would say if he knew she was now a lass with a tocher. He would not love me for my wealth. The thought surprised her so, she dropped her comb. I know nothing of him, really, she told herself, as she fumbled after it. She went over their last meeting in her mind. What was it he had said to her? “What I need would cost you more than gold.” What could he mean by speaking in riddles like that? Maybe he was mad, just as everyone said. Jenny had not gone back to Carter Hall since that meeting. I will not, she told herself now. Not ever. This was only proper for a lass who might soon be betrothed.
As she climbed into bed beside Isabel, she was surprised to find that doing what was right could make her feel so miserable.
Chapter Ten
The strange half-floating motion of the horse litter made Jenny slightly sick. She felt suffocated and confined under the cloth tilt that covered her. She longed to put her head out to gulp some fresh air, to ask Hilde what she could see, but her father had commanded her to stay hidden as they approached Lilliesleaf.
She had been shocked when her father had forbidden her to take La Rose.
“You must appear gentle and ladylike when Earl William first sees you,” he said.
“But Papa, only the old and infirm travel by horse litter . . .” she began, but her father cut her off.
“No argument.” This was new. While most of the household had grown more deferential to Jenny over the past few weeks, her father had become arbitrary and commanding. But the thought of riding to Lilliesleaf in a horse litter was more than Jenny could bear.
“Why do you order me about, Papa?” she demanded. “You never treated me like this before.”
The hardness in his eyes as he met her gaze was new as well. “Do you think great men allow their wives to do as they please? If you would be the wife of an earl, you must learn to do as you are told. I have failed you sadly in this regard, and now we must correct that.” It was useless to argue.
Jenny almost cried when she saw the awkward litter. The horses that carried it, one before and one behind, were almost hobbled by the cumbersome thing. The trip to Lilliesleaf would take forever.
New noises floated in through the heavy cover now—a blacksmith’s hammer, the cries of children at play—muffled but distinct enough to recognize as the sounds of a town. Lilliesleaf. Jenny hoped Sir Robert’s hall was not far, but the journey dragged on long after the sounds had faded. Finally, Jenny felt the litter stop. She waited. Nothing happened. Am I supposed to sit here forever? Jenny wondered. Apparently so. She longed to push the hated tilt aside. They must be waiting for Earl William, she thought. But when the cover lifted, her father was beside her.
“You may come down,” he said. He sounded disheartened. “Earl William is busy. His steward says he will meet you at supper this evening.”
Jenny only nodded, lifting her chin so that the servants would see n
o reaction. She did not expect Earl William to love her on sight, but she had not guessed he would ignore her. Her disappointment and humiliation quickly turned to anger. She had to force herself to smile as a lady in fine clothes came toward them.
“Sir Philippe, Lady Jeanette, I am sorry your host cannot greet you. Sir Robert and Earl William have matters of grave importance to discuss. I am Lady Margaret de Burneville . . .” she suddenly stopped and looked past Jenny, “But here is one who has awaited you most eagerly.”
Jenny found herself in a warm hug. “Eudo!” she cried. Her brother lifted her off the ground. “Can it be that you are even taller than you were at Christmas?” she asked, laughing and pushing him back for a better look as he put her down. He was clearly Isabel’s brother, dark like her with the same fine features, though unclouded by sadness.
“And you, little one, I think you are smaller than ever,” he teased. Then he turned to hug his father.
“See what a jewel my sister is, Lady Margaret,” Eudo said when the greetings were over. “Earl William is bound to fall in love with her, is he not?”
Jenny smiled and blushed.
Lady Margaret smiled, clearly fond of Eudo, but said nothing. Her silence disconcerted Jenny.
Sir Robert’s holdings were far finer than Vicomte Avenel’s. Away from the other buildings, a stone keep sat proud and alone. “Sir Robert must have borrowed stonemasons from the abbeys,” the vicomte said.
“We would not think to slow the work at the abbeys. Sir Robert’s masons came from England.” Lady Margaret smiled, but her tone was disapproving.
“The keep is fine and strong, Father,” Eudo said quickly. “If anyone dares to attack Sir Robert, it will be a wonderful base of defense. No enemy could burn us out in there.”
Jenny studied the keep. The high stone tower had no doors or windows on the ground level. It looked indestructible. “But what use do you make of it in the meantime?” she asked.
Eudo looked surprised. “Why, none. It is provisioned with food and water, so it can be manned at a moment’s notice, but otherwise, it sits empty.”
Jenny said nothing, but it seemed like a terrible waste of money and labour. She knew, if Earl William had greeted her, smiling, if Lady Margaret had not made her family look like backward country folk, she might have thought this stone tower a marvel. Coming here was a mistake, she thought.
Eudo, at least, was delighted to see them. He talked excitedly while they ate a cold lunch under Lady Margaret’s cool gaze. They were otherwise alone because they had arrived so late in the day. Jenny was sorry for that, because it was clear Lady Margaret had no intention of befriending her.
When they had finished their meal, Eudo offered to show them Sir Robert’s lands. “If we can find a horse for my sister . . .” he said, looking to Lady Margaret for permission.
“There are some ponies in the pasture that the children use,” she said.
This was such a deliberate snub, Jenny could not bear it meekly. “I would think, Lady Margaret, that a household of this size might have a horse to suit a lady.”
The shock on Lady Margaret’s face told Jenny she had hit her target. She must have expected me to be as harmless as a rabbit, Jenny thought. But the older woman quickly recovered herself. “Very well, Eudo, she may have Le Vent.” And she left without another word.
“Jenny, it will do you no good to make an enemy of Lady Margaret,” Eudo whispered as they approached the stables. “Where are your manners?” Between them, their father said nothing, but Jenny could feel the anger rising off him, as palpable as heat.
“Let us talk while we ride,” she said. Like her father, she had no wish to be overheard by the servants.
Le Vent proved to be a large, unruly charger.
Jenny barely reached his shoulder, and Eudo had to boost her onto his back. She felt ridiculous astride such a huge mount, but not afraid as she was sure Lady Margaret had intended.
His name, Le Vent, meant “the wind.” “Very well,” Jenny said. “We shall ride like the wind.” She kicked her heels with more force than she would ever have used with La Rose. Le Vent surged into the stable yard, where Jenny almost ran down a group of men who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. She saw them for only an instant, but it was easy to guess which was Earl William; the other men were all arranged around him. Jenny watched him lunge for safety as she flew past. He might have been handsome had he not been red-faced with fury. He shouted something Jenny could not hear over Le Vent’s hoof beats, but she could guess what he might have said. Fine, she thought. My first impression of you is not good either. She rode through the wide bailey gates at full gallop, leaving her father and Eudo to follow.
It was such a relief to be out in the open air that Jenny made no effort to rein in Le Vent, who was well named indeed. Bondsmen working in the riggs stopped to watch them fly past. Jenny clung to Le Vent’s neck, low in the saddle, savouring the wind that sent her hair flying like a banner behind her. The horse was too big for her but he seemed to share her love of freedom, and she found him surprisingly easy to manage.
Not until Jenny finally slowed did she remember her father and Eudo. When she looked back, they were gaining ground. Even before she could see the look on her father’s face, Jenny knew she was in trouble.
“What did you think you were doing?” her father demanded. “You might have killed Earl William. We had to stop to apologize.”
“There was no one in the stable yard a few moments before,” Jenny said. “How was I to know it would be full of men?” Then she stopped herself and took a deep breath. She was not among friends here. It would not do to fight with her father as well. “In truth, Papa, I urged the horse on more strongly than I intended. I will apologize myself when I meet Earl William.” Her father seemed mollified. “But Eudo,” Jenny said, turning to her brother, “why is Lady Margaret so cold to me?”
Her brother shrugged. “She has acted the same with every young woman who has come into the household in my time here,” he said, and then he grinned. “You should be flattered, Jenny. They say, the prettier the girl, the colder Lady Margaret is. It seems she has judged you a beauty.” He laughed, and so did their father.
Jenny tried to smile, but in her heart she longed for Lady Bethoc. How different everything would be if she were here to smooth the way.
“Look around,” Eudo said. “All this land belongs to Sir Robert.” The landscape spread out around them like a blanket, the ploughed riggs neatly stitched together by small burns that meandered through the land, cutting deep into the rich soil.
“Sir Robert is a wealthy man,” Jenny said. “Yes,” her father replied. “We were young together, in Earl Henry’s cavalry.” He sighed. “Sir Robert and I were both without land then. Who would have thought life would treat us all so differently? Earl Henry is dead, Sir Robert is a powerful man, and my daughter may wed Earl Henry’s son.”
Jenny blushed. “That seems unlikely, Papa.”
“You will have your chance with Earl William yet, Jenny,” Eudo said. “Tonight, at the banquet, you will sit with him and share his dish. Lady Margaret should have told you.”
Jenny’s heart raced faster even than Le Vent could gallop. “But we never share dishes at home, Eudo. You know our ways are not so fine. How will I know what to do?”
“I had to learn when I came here, Jenny, and so shall you. The one of lesser rank helps his better. You shall break the bread, pass the cup and choose and cut the finest meat, so Earl William may eat without effort.”
Jenny groaned. “I wasted all this time on singing lessons when I should have been learning table manners. I am bound to make mistakes, Eudo.”
“Never mind. Let me tell you what I can as we ride back. If you have a pretty gown and a maid who can dress your hair, Earl William may notice little of the food on his plate.”
Suddenly, the scarlet silk gown seemed worth all the trouble it had taken to make.
By the time the ride was over, Jenny’s mind wa
s focused on matters of great importance—hot water, the location of the walrus ivory combs that Isabel had lent her, whether the scarlet silk dress was badly wrinkled by the journey. She had asked Eudo every question she could think of, and still felt unprepared. As the afternoon progressed, she grew less and less like the wild-haired rider who had charged through the gates a few hours before and more, to her dismay, like Lady Margaret. She snapped at Hilde when the nervous young maid tried to comb the tangles collected on her ride with Le Vent.
“Galiene would not hurt me so,” she cried, snatching the comb from the poor girl. Jenny knew she was behaving badly but could not bring herself to apologize. She almost cried when she discovered that one of the ties for the sleeves of her dress had gone astray in her luggage, and did burst into tears when it was found.
It seemed hours before the assemblée sounded for supper. Sir Robert himself greeted them as they entered the hall. “Welcome to my home, old friend,” he said to Vicomte Avenel, grasping his arm with both hands. He talked with Jenny’s father a few moments before taking Jenny’s arm. “Your radiance puts the sun to shame, my dear,” he murmured in her ear, leaning far too close. Suddenly, Jenny could understand why Lady Margaret was so unkind.
Sir Robert showed her to her place himself.
“And this,” he said with a flourish, “is our king’s own brother, Earl William de Warenne.”
Earl William had been talking to a man down the table and turned only when Sir Robert said his name. He was indeed handsome, broad-beamed with red-gold hair, high colour and piercing blue eyes. He raised an eyebrow at Jenny. “Can this be the young Amazon who tried to run me down this afternoon? You are much changed.”
Jenny would have apologized, but he turned back to his companion and continued his conversation. Sir Robert was gone, so Jenny sat without a word.
After the blessing was said, Jenny did everything according to Eudo’s hasty instructions, catching the butler’s eye when the cup was empty without drawing attention to herself, selecting and cutting the best joints of meat and breaking Earl William’s bread. The food was excellent, but she hardly tasted it. Earl William ate steadily, talking to the men around him about Scotland’s trade with Holland and how it might be changed by the forthcoming marriage of his sister. He did not speak to Jenny again. No one seemed to think this unusual.