She turned to face him. “My father is not here now. You must do as I wish.”
“But he is my master. If I were to cross him—”
“You have already crossed him, Ranulf. Remember? The last time we rode out this way. It would not please him to know that.”
The falconer looked shocked but simply said, “As you wish, my lady.” He left without saying goodbye.
Jenny felt slightly sick. She had never threatened to tell her father anything about a servant’s behaviour before. And this was doubly bad, because Ranulf had been reluctant to let her go off alone in the spring. She waited before mounting La Rose so she wouldn’t have to face Ranulf again. She sighed as she tugged her mare’s reins. Would it be this way with all servants if she rose to a higher station? Sullen silences and resentment on their part, bullying and threats on hers? She had a sudden vision of how lonely such a life might be, ignored by her husband and disliked by the servants who filled her household.
It may not be like that at all, she told herself, wiping away a tear. The excitement of the past few days has left me overwrought. I should think about Roxburg instead. Which dress should I take? The red wool, which was once her best dress, seemed a poor choice now. I shall have to wear the red silk again, she thought, and Earl William will see how little I possess.
The forest was now at the height of its midsummer glory, but Jenny hardly noticed as she passed through. Just before the ford in the river, the sound of voices ahead abruptly caught her attention. She guided La Rose off the path, careful not to trample the undergrowth as they went. Behind the trunk of a great oak she dismounted, holding La Rose’s reins. Soon after, she heard men on the path. When they were past, she peeked around the trunk.
Jenny counted six. They were not her father’s men. They were clothed like bondsmen, but everything they wore was unwashed and unmended, the clothing of men who lived without women to tend to them. They were freebooters. Even though she was safely hidden, Jenny’s heart pounded. Until this moment, they had hardly seemed real to her. When she was sure they were gone, she led La Rose, keeping off the path, afraid to ride in case the thumping of her horse’s hooves should reach the freebooters’ ears. She did not begin to breathe again, it seemed, until she was safely across the river.
What would they have done if they had found her alone on the path? Her rank would have given her some protection, for they would forfeit their lives if they harmed her, but they might have been tempted to hold her for ransom. With La Rose, she might be able to outpace them, but she was glad she had not had to try. I should not come this way again, she thought.
Chapter Twelve
Carter Hall looked abandoned. Jenny had been sure Tam Lin would be there. She sat on the edge of the old stone bench, La Rose’s reins in her hand. The freebooters had unsettled her so, she was afraid to let go. The thought that she might have made this trip for nothing was more than she could bear.
“We will have to wait a while, La Rose, to let those men go away, for I would not meet them for the world.” She sighed. “I wish we were safe at home. I should never have come here.” She pulled a white rose from a bush beside her and began to pluck at the petals.
“There you are, ruining my roses again,” said a voice close behind her.
In the half second before she could understand what she had heard, she was on her feet and facing the sound, terror driving every reasonable thought from her head. Then she saw Tam Lin. Of course. She felt shaken and ridiculous all at once.
“Is something wrong?” he said.
She nodded, still trying to catch her breath from the scare he had given her. “Freebooters. I saw them just across the river.”
He came over and put his hand on her shoulder.
“Did they see you?”
His concern comforted her. Her fear was not silly. She shook her head and explained how she had heard them at the ford and hidden.
“I would not like for them to meet you,” he said when she had finished.
She looked at him, puzzled. “Do you know them?”
He blushed. “Aye. They bring me things I need from time to time. In fact, they were coming from here when you saw them.”
“But they are outlaws. How can you trade with them?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes, you pick the lesser of two evils.”
“What does that mean? Buying stolen goods is better than stealing yourself?”
He looked surprised, but nodded. “You could think of it that way. Now, tell me, have you met young William yet?”
Jenny sat down again with a sigh. “Aye, and he wants to see me again. We are to go to see him ride in a tournament next week.”
“Swept you off your feet, did he?”
Jenny looked up at him. He was not teasing, but the contrast between being swept off her feet and what had happened was so absurd, she burst out laughing. Her relief at escaping the freebooters and her pleasure at finding Tam again bubbled up and she laughed until she had to hold her sides from the pain.
“I must seem mad,” she gasped at last.
“I prefer this to crying. Can you tell me the joke?”
She found she could. William’s indifference, which seemed such a shameful secret at home, was suddenly something she could laugh at.
“And after we sang,” she finished, “his eyes were only for the servant girl. Her voice was much better than mine, and she was pretty, but I felt shamed. He could have been nicer to me.”
“And should have,” Tam Lin said, sitting beside her. “You deserve better, lass. How is it you agreed to meet him again?”
“I wanted to slip away unnoticed, but Earl William heard we were leaving. He came to the stable yard to find me and told my father to bring me to see him again. It was flattering, but I did find it odd.” She had not admitted this, even to herself, until that moment.
Tam Lin frowned. “This is no surprise to me. William only wants a thing he cannot have. He has always been that way. I had a dog once, a bonny terrier who was a good ratter. Hardly a dog for a nobleman, but she followed me everywhere and I loved her. William was ten and I was twelve. I remember because it was the year his father died. He whined for that dog. Everyone prevailed upon me to give him what he wanted—my grandfather, even old King David himself. So finally, I did. Soon after, I went off hunting with the men. While I was gone, William tied the little dog to a tether and baited her with a sharp stick. By the time I came home, she was dead.”
“But boys are often cruel to animals,” Jenny said.
Tam Lin nodded. ‘“Aye, they are. But you see, William only wanted the terrier when he could not have her. The devotion that made me love her so was only tiresome to him.”
“But he was just a child. He is now a man of nineteen. Surely he has changed.” Jenny found herself wanting to believe this very badly.
Tam Lin opened his mouth to say something, then stopped himself. “That may be,” he said, without conviction. “Now, tell me what brought you here.” He was deliberately changing the subject, and Jenny was glad. The story she had just heard was something she did not want to be forced to think about too carefully, like so many other things about Earl William.
“I hoped you might tell me about the tournaments, for I have never seen one. I do not wish to seem unschooled when I go to Roxburg.”
“Roxburg? The tourney is there?” He looked alarmed. “Will you tell anyone you have spoken with me?”
“How could I? I steal off to visit you without anyone’s knowledge. My father would be terribly angry if he knew.”
“But my grandsire may ask. Even if he seems sad and you are tempted, will you promise not to tell?”
“I swear,” she said. Why was it so important? If the old man was worried sick about him, why should he hide himself away like this? She found she was afraid to ask, because, suddenly, it seemed possible that his answer might make no sense at all.
But her promise seemed to return him to himself. “Well, what shall I tell you? The war g
ames played at a tourney are called ‘hastiludes.’ Most tournaments have two parts, the joust and the mêlée. The joust is the new part, the sort of thing Malcolm and William brought back from France. The knights try to knock one another off their horses with long sticks calls lances. Daft, really. If a knight is unhorsed, he forfeits everything to his opponent—weapons and horse and all. It can easily beggar a man. In the mêlée everyone is divided into two companies, like mock armies, and they fight in a sort of free-for-all. A captured knight is held for ransom. If he has not the means with him to buy his freedom, he is released on his word to fetch the fee. You know the French word, ‘parole’? Of course you do. Well, he is released on his word, on parole.
“My grandsire’s hall, Marchmont, stands on a hill with the Teviot hard by on one side and the Tweed just a field away on the other.” He fell deeper into his memories, until his eyes seemed to be looking back into the past. “They will surely choose the fine flat rigg that lies between Marchmont and the Tweed to hold the tourney.
“When enemies meet, the knights fight à outrance with real weapons, dealing real blows.” He shook his head. “But King Malcolm would not allow such hard play among friends. So, they will fight à plaisance, with blunted weapons, and due care for life and limb, though injury is still possible. The tourney itself will hold little interest for you, but Roxburg is a fine place.” He turned to her with shining eyes. “Have you ever been there?” She shook her head. “It sits just below Marchmont, where the Tweed and the Teviot finally meet. Kelso Abbey is just a stone’s throw beyond. King David made it a king’s burgh, you know. My grandsire gave him the whole earldom, so they could show what a royal town might be. All the free men who live there, the burgesses, are king’s men. The riches made in the town go straight into the king’s coffers.”
Jenny knew land was everything to a nobleman. “It must have cost your grandsire dearly to do such a thing.”
Tam shrugged. “He and King David were boyhood friends in England. The king gave him the land to begin with. Marchmont is still his home, and he houses the king’s court when they travel to Roxburg but he no longer foots the bill. I think he came out on the better side of the bargain.” It occurred to Jenny that the earl had also given Tam Lin’s birthright away, but he harboured no bitterness. Jenny remembered what Tam had said about William having no earldom to support him.
“It was more than a bargain to both of them, you see,” he continued. “They believed Scotland could only increase her prosperity through trade. Foreigners trade only in the royal burghs. Roxburg was the very first king’s burgh, with Berwick. I remember how they used to stay up late, my grandsire and King David, talking about the good that could be gained. I would fall asleep at Granda’s side, and he would carry me off to bed.” He sighed.
“But I thought . . .” Jenny began. As soon as she spoke she realized she should not have.
He smiled. “What did you think?”
She knew she was blushing. “I thought, at least, I heard, that . . . that you had lost your memory. In a hunting accident.” Then she remembered his story about William and the dog and blushed more deeply. Of course he remembered his past. Galiene’s gossip must be wrong.
But he surprised her. “I did forget,” he said, “for a long while. Things came back to me slowly. I remember most of my past now, but there are still holes.” He sat back and studied her until she wished she could vanish. “You seem well versed in the story of my life, lass.”
She had not known it was possible to blush even more deeply, but she did. “The folk about here care for you. You must know that. They remember your father and all.” She hoped this sounded like a reasonable explanation. That she might care for him herself was not a thought she wished to explore. Perhaps it was time to leave. She rose. “Thank you. I feel prepared for Roxburg now.” She sighed. “If only I had a new dress.”
“You need a dress?”
“Aye, but they take weeks to sew and the tournament is only a few days away.”
“Just wait here.” And he disappeared before she could stop him.
Why would Tam have a dress? Finery was valuable and rare. Good clothing could be traded for things he would need, food, for example. He might have brought some from Roxburg with him for that purpose. The ruffians she saw on the path today would not be able to trade fine stuff locally without arousing suspicion, but they might know a peddler who would take such things for a fraction of their worth without questions.
Of course, she could never accept a gift of fine clothes from a man she was not to marry, she told herself. But she could hardly bear the thought of going to Roxburg without a new dress. I must see what he has, she thought. I can always return it to him.
He was gone a long time. She looked around on tiptoe, but the land was now so overgrown she could see very little of Carter Hall itself. She forced herself to stop looking. Where he lives is of little interest to me. Where he lives, what he feels, what he will make of his life, all these things matter to me not at all, she told herself. She was just beginning to grow angry with herself for refusing to accept this when he finally returned.
“Here,” he said, holding a dress up. “This should fit.”
Jenny gasped. It was as if all the colours of the forest at midsummer had somehow been captured in the cloth. The green, shimmering as if alive, was shot through with gold and hints of warm brown. She ran her fingertips over it, but gently, as if she feared her touch might somehow ruin it. “By Heaven,” she said, “I never hoped to see a thing as fine as this.”
Her delight was echoed in Tam’s laughter.
“Take it,” he urged. “It will not fall to pieces in your hands.” The cloth flowed when it moved, lighter than silk. Jenny held the dress against her and looked up for his approval. “You should always wear green,” he said. “It makes you look like the wood sprite you are. Every young nobleman who sees you in this dress will fall in love with you.”
The smile fell from Jenny’s face. “But everyone will wonder where it came from.”
“Who goes to Roxburg with you?”
“Only my father and his men, and a young maid to tend to me. My nurse is too old to travel and my sister is . . .” Embarrassment stopped her.
“I know about your sister’s troubles,” he said gently, “we need not speak of that. What if you hide the dress until you are in Roxburg? Men know very little of women’s clothing. If your father takes note, tell him you bought it from a peddler. Would that not do?”
Jenny looked down at the dress. She could not bear to leave without it. “It would be a risk,” she said slowly. Then, in a rush, “But I am willing to try. Oh, thank you. No one has ever given me anything so fine.” She suddenly felt shy. “‘I will return it, of course.”
He waved this away. “No need for that. I mean for you to have it.”
Jenny suddenly had a terrible thought. What if the dress had belonged to his mother? “Will anyone in Roxburg know this dress? Your grandsire, perhaps? Surely anyone who saw it before would remember.”
“That dress was never seen in Roxburg. I promise you.” Something in his tone made it impossible for Jenny to ask where the dress did come from.
“Can I give you nothing in exchange?” She spoke innocently but immediately blushed to think what her words might mean to a young man.
He did not misunderstand her. “I still love Roxburg, and my grandsire too, though I cannot be there. When you return, come and tell me about it. That is all I ask.”
“Aye, certainly, I will.” It seemed a small price for such a dress.
“Good,” he said, warming to the thought. “Come by the full of the moon and dine with me, and tell me everything.”
Jenny nodded numbly.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
Jenny hardly knew where to begin. Even if she could slip away unnoticed at night, she was still shaken by her encounter with the freebooters. “Those men . . .” she began.
“Will not harm you. I will see to
that, lass. I promise.” He looked at the sky. “They will wonder where you are at home. You must go.” And he kissed her on the forehead.
A brother’s kiss, she told herself as she rode home. He is not like anyone I have ever known. Gentle and kind and thoughtful. When I speak to him, all my troubles seem to vanish. A brother’s kiss, she told herself again, but it felt like something very different.
Chapter Thirteen
Before leaving Langknowes, Jenny had been eager to see Marchmont. But when they finally came out of the forest, the hill where it sat was shrouded in a curtain of rain and river mist.
La Rose kept her dripping head down, following Jenny’s father on Bravura of her own accord. Jenny had done nothing to guide her these last few hours. She had given up after they came to the rain-swollen burn that had turned the forest road into a riverbed. When La Rose had stumbled in the mud, the saddle girths shifted and Jenny slid into the dirty water. Ranulf quickly righted the saddle, and Hilde had done her best to fix Jenny’s clothes, but the care that Galiene and Isabel had put into her grooming was wasted. Jenny was soaked to the bone. She smelled of earth and wet wool and leather. But she smiled to herself in spite of everything, for the green-and-gold dress was safely stowed in the bottom of a stout wooden trunk. No matter if I look like a drowned rat when we arrive, she thought, as long as that dress is safe and dry.
Now, Jenny could see that Tam had guessed rightly. Tents ringed a large open rigg by the Tweed. This must be the lists where the tournament would take place, though it was abandoned in the rain. Jenny’s attention came back to La Rose abruptly as the little horse turned off the road. But La Rose was still following Bravura.
“This is the back path to Marchmont.” her father said. “On a fine day, we might have gone ahead to Roxburg and followed the road back along the Teviot to make a grand entrance. But the riverbanks are soft and the Teviot may be swollen with the rain. This path is humble, but it will spare you another ducking.”
Jenny was touched by this unaccustomed thoughtfulness. “It will please me to wash and change before anyone sees me, Papa.”
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