by Olga Daniels
Gervase was shouting again. “That’s Lady Margaret’s chamber, my lord. The one with the open window.”
“Do let’s get out of here,” pleaded Sarah. “What good can it do to be caught by that brute?” She took hold of Meg’s other arm and used her considerable strength to make Meg move. “Believe me, my lady, it will be best for everyone. Which way, Captain?”
“Through the Great Hall. There’s a secret door in the panelling beside the fireplace. It opens into a passage—”
Despite her objections, Meg found herself being hustled in that direction. She could no longer hear what was happening in the courtyard, but her imagination was running riot. Her uncle would be furious if she could not be found. Richard was already in his power. She could not leave him. She had to speak in his favour.
“You’re hurting me,” she complained to her captors.
That was the last thing they wanted to do, so the Captain loosened his hold slightly, but not sufficiently for her to escape. They hustled her along passageways and into the Great Hall. The smell of last night’s ale and food lingered. Two of the dogs barked, then, realising that they were not strangers, flopped back and closed their eyes. Meg was impelled over to the huge fireplace at the far end of the room. It was warm, with half a tree trunk smouldering among dusty grey ashes. With one hand tightly encircling Meg’s wrist, Captain Bennington felt along the side of a carved oak panel. He pressed one particular ridge and the panel began to move.
“Cor, I never knew that was there,” exclaimed Sarah.
Slowly the door swung open to reveal steps leading down into the darkness below. Both the Captain and Sarah relaxed slightly, their eyes fixed upon the opening, and in that moment, with fevered determination, Meg pulled herself away. She had the advantage of taking her friendly captors by surprise.
She leapt beyond their reach with a sudden return of strength. Picking up her skirts, she ran as if the devil himself was after her. She forced herself to ignore the pain that shot through her limbs. She dodged trestles and upturned benches, the uncleared residue of the previous evening’s meal, driven by the need to assist Richard. Never had the Great Hall seemed so long.
Captain Bennington and Sarah were in pursuit of her. They were her friends, but she had to escape from them. She rushed out of a door and blessed the fact that it was half open. One of the dogs decided it was a game, and raced and leapt beside her as she ran across the wide foyer and through the outer door.
She emerged at the top of the wide steps that led to the courtyard. Faces looked up at her, startled, silent, so many of them! Richard, clean-shaven, bare-headed, that arrestingly rugged face which she knew and loved. Thurton, bearded, florid, with small eyes and an oversized bulbous nose. She hated him with a malevolence that almost frightened her. Gervase Gisbon, duplicitous, whose blond and handsome features, always icy-cold, struck fear into her heart. Other members of the Earl’s company were gathered around him, awaiting orders. She recognised a few of those closest to him. The servants stood back as far as possible from the central group. Those who lived at the castle were plainly bewildered, unsure to whom they owed allegiance.
Richard was the first to move. He sprang forward, dashed headlong toward her, up the steps two at a time. “What are you doing here? Go. Go! Get away while you can.” He glanced over Meg’s shoulder and saw Captain Bennington.
“I gave you orders to take her—”
“It is not the Captain’s fault, Richard,” Meg said. “I heard those false accusations—I had to come and prove them untrue.”
“Never mind that! I can look after myself,” Richard hissed at her. “Go—”
“I will not—”
She stepped past Richard. He tried to grasp her arm, but she moved aside. “I will not be silenced,” she said. “I want everyone to know that Sir Richard had no part in my leaving the Earl’s house in London. I went of my own free will, accompanied only by my maid. It was Sir Richard who saved us both from those evil monks, Bernard and Marcus. As for the other charges—” she began but was interrupted.
“There is no need to discuss that at this moment,” said Thurton. “We will sort that out later. For the moment my only wish is to be reunited with my dear niece.”
He moved heavily and clumsily up the steps. His mouth smiled, but his eyes were hard. She stepped back, her distrust of him as trenchant as ever.
“Give your uncle a kiss, wench, to show there are no ill feelings.”
His hands reached out and clasped hers, pulling her closer. With reluctance she deposited a peck on his bristly cheek.
“Now, let us go inside and take refreshment.” He clapped his hands, summoning the servants. “Fetch the best food and wine you have in the house and send the butler and the cooks to me.”
Thurton used his authority positively. He dismissed Richard and Captain Bennington. “No need for you to follow. I will deal with you both later. I wish to speak to my niece privately.”
She saw the flash of anger in Richard’s eyes. He opened his mouth to protest. She shook her head in warning, for he could neither do nor say anything that would help.
“See to the quartering of my men,” the Earl thundered on. “Have the best chambers thoroughly cleaned and prepared for the King, and for myself and Nancy.”
He was taking control of everything, including Meg. He held her arm in a grip that pinched as side by side they entered Leet.
“Richard de Heigham has designs on this estate. Scant hope he has of taking it from me. ‘What is mine I hold.’ That is my motto.” Inside the castle he stood still, looking around, half smiling. “I haven’t been here for years. It’s a pretty property, is it not, Meg?”
She controlled her dislike of the man. For the moment she was powerless and she knew it. Her common-sense told her that a pretence of quiet acceptance was the least likely to inflame the situation. For the moment the Earl, undoubtedly for his own reasons, was holding out an olive branch to her. It was in her interest and, she hoped, Richard’s also that she took it.
“I like it very well,” she said. “I could happily live here.”
“Ah, but we have better things in store for you, my dear. You know that, don’t you?”
She made no reply. They entered a side-chamber. The Earl flung himself down in a chair and indicated that Meg should be seated nearby. Undeterred by her silence, he carried on, using a creepily gentle voice. “You have completely captured the King’s heart, my dear. When he sent for you and we searched everywhere and you were not to be found, Nancy and I found it very difficult to find a reason for your absence.”
“I am sure you know why I left London.”
“I neither know nor understand, but that is beside the point. On this occasion I forgive you, but I shall not be so lenient if you cross me again. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
“Good. Then I will say no more about it. We are reunited; that is all I care about—at the moment!” His expression of repressed fury emphasised exactly what he meant by that. “I shall not berate you for all the trouble you caused. I had to explain to His Majesty that you had expressed a wish to go into retreat, and therefore I had allowed you to come here to my Castle of Leet. You will remember that when the King arrives, won’t you, dear niece?” His tone held an unmistakable threat.
Servants came in with laden trays, flagons of ale, wine, dishes of porage, fruit and steaming, freshly baked rolls. They hovered, ready to serve the Earl, but he waved them away.
“I’ll see to myself. Go. All of you.”
Meg could feel the webs of deception gathering around. She was trapped again. She clenched her fists, but this was not the time for open defiance.
“You know what you must say to the King, don’t you? You must explain that you were troubled in your mind. That you doubted you were worthy of the attention he was so graciously bestowing upon you and you felt you needed time for quiet reflection, for the regeneration of your soul.”
She listened with astonishme
nt, but what could she do? Meekly she nodded.
“You will assure the King that you were not seeking to be separated from him, and welcome him wholeheartedly when he arrives. Have I made myself clear?”
“Perfectly.” It was only a whisper.
“That’s a good wench.” Thurton smirked with satisfaction. “You see, Nancy whispered to Henry that you were such a shy young lady you simply could not believe that such a great man as he could really fall in love with a girl such as you. It was an excellent ploy. It couldn’t have worked out better, for His Majesty was most touched. Of course, Nancy was quick to point out that you are indisputably of royal descent and, even though you were brought up in a nunnery, it was in a very genteel manner.”
The Earl paused and chuckled. “I have to say that Nancy spoke your case most eloquently, and, far from cooling the royal ardour, her words seemed only to increase the affection and esteem in which His Majesty holds you.”
“I am sure I do not deserve it,” murmured Meg.
“On that I agree with you,” Thurton said tartly. He took a long draught of ale, bit into a roll, and stuffed a slice of ham into his mouth with his fingers. A broad grin spread over his fat red face. “But thankfully we do not always get what we deserve.” He spoke with his mouth full. “You will have to reconcile yourself to that fact. You wouldn’t believe the joy you brought to His Majesty when we told him that you were here, safe and sound, at Leet. He demanded to be brought to you immediately, so that he might personally declare his attachment to you.”
Meg hung her head, miserable and dispirited. She could think of no way out. She was sorry if she had indeed awakened in the King this devotion that was pleasing her uncle so mightily. She had no wish to hurt or harm him.
“That was a clever move of yours, my Meg. Your absence has certainly made the King’s heart grow fonder,” the Earl crowed.
“That was not the reason I—”
“Do not say another word on the subject, my dear niece.”
“But, Uncle—”
“Not another word,” he thundered. “Have something to eat.”
“I am not hungry, thank you.”
He shrugged.
“May I have permission to leave the room, Uncle?”
He ignored her and stuffed more food into his mouth. She stood up and moved quietly away. As soon as she was outside the room she hurried through the castle and out into the courtyard, seeking Richard.
She found him in the stables with the head groom. Together they were examining one of the Earl’s horses, which appeared to have been lamed.
“Richard—”
He swung round at the sound of her voice. “Meg!” His eyes studied her face. “Are you all right? He didn’t—?”
“My uncle spoke kindly to me,” she said. “But you—?”
He smiled. His face relaxed. He turned to the groom and instructed him to carry on with the treatment. Then, taking Meg’s arm, he led her away from the busy stable block.
“Shall we walk in the herb garden?” he suggested.
She turned her steps in that direction. They walked side by side, but without physical contact. She told him all that the Earl had said to her and how she was expected to act when Henry arrived. “You were wise to pretend obedience,” Richard said. “And you are safe because it is not in Thurton’s interest for you to be harmed in any way.”
“But what can I do? Can we not escape together through that secret passage?”
“Perhaps. But the time is not yet right—”
“Ah, the young lovers!” a nasal voice purred.
Meg started. Gervase Gisbon had crept up behind them. How long had he been there? How much had he heard?
“A message from his lordship, de Heigham. He wishes you to attend on him immediately. I believe he fancies a day’s hunting tomorrow.”
“Then I must bid you farewell for now,” said Richard, bowing to Meg.
“Ah, so sad,” breathed Gervase. “Soon it will be farewell for ever, I trow.”
Meg did not wait to hear more. She walked smartly away from both of them. For the present it appeared that both she and Richard were safe, and would be so long as they were useful to the Earl. She quailed at the prospect of the King’s arrival and the deceit she was expected to enter into. Again there seemed to be no way out—and even now Richard had shown no enthusiasm when she’d spoken about escaping together.
Nancy arrived the following day. With her came several packhorses and a cart loaded with a variety of domestic items: special bedding for the King and tapestries to beautify the rooms he would occupy, vast quantities of preserves and pickles, hams, jams, other meats and all manner of things beside.
“Is there anything left in the London house?” the Earl enquired. “You seem to have brought just about everything with you.”
Meg, with Sarah at her side, watched and listened to this altercation with considerable amusement from her chamber overlooking the entrance to the castle.
Nancy stood with arms akimbo, plump hands on her non-existent waist. “Have you any idea what it takes to run a household of this size? Let alone make the place fit for a king? You said this so-called castle hasn’t been lived in, not properly, not by the gentry, probably not since Domesday! And I can see that’s not a word of a lie,” Nancy snapped.
She was tired from the journey and felt she deserved a better welcome after all the trouble she had taken.
“All right. All right, Nancy, my love. I didn’t mean anything by that remark.”
Nancy was a little mollified, but continued to regard him scathingly. “You’d be the first to complain if I couldn’t arrange to have the King decently housed and well fed! Now get out of my way and let me look about and see what needs to be done.”
“Is the King on his way?” the Earl asked.
“He is. But he’s making a progress of it. Travelling with all the usual panoply of courtiers and hangers-on. He should be here in about two days’ time.”
“There’s time for me to go a-hunting, then.”
“Hunting!” Nancy’s voice rose to a scream. “That’s right, Edmund! You go off and enjoy yourself! Never mind all the work and preparations that have to be seen to here.”
“Well, what can I do?” Thurton asked, with surprising humility.
“Oh, nothing at all,” Nancy said sarcastically. “Except oversee the outside clearing and look to the stables. Make sure they’re fit to receive the King’s horses and his carriage. And wouldn’t it be a good idea to send men out to meet him on the road and return with news, so that you can be sure to be here to greet His Majesty, and not out hunting when he arrives?”
“Proper fishwife, isn’t she?” remarked Sarah. “Strange, though, isn’t it? I mean, have you noticed how women always have so many things that really have to be attended to, no matter who they are?”
“It’s because women have to provide the food and men are always hungry,” Meg said philosophically.
“She’s certainly intending to put on some good feasts,” Sarah remarked, licking her lips at the prospect.
“Nancy is a clever woman,” Meg said. “And very wise to bring wholesome food from London. The kitchens here are not well stocked, and there are few pot-herbs in the gardens to flavour the dishes.”
Nancy wasted no time as she set to, stirring things up in the household, sending servants hither and thither to fetch sheep, pigs and geese for slaughter. Doves were culled from the dovehouse, fish caught in the stew ponds, sacks of fresh milled flour were carted in. She had others hurrying in and out, clearing away the rushes that had lain on the floors too long and replacing them with sweeter-smelling ones. Scrubbing and cleaning went on apace.
“Good thing it ain’t our business to get involved,” said Sarah.
Meg smiled at her in complete agreement. She found it entertaining and droll to watch the unloading of the carts and the unpacking and carrying away of panniers from the packhorses—until the door of her chamber was thrown open.
/> Nancy stood on the threshold. Her eyes swept around the chamber. She glared at Meg, but kept her lips tightly compressed, making it clear that this was not a friendly visit. She was followed by half a dozen servants who were all silent, cringingly obedient. Among them they carried the entire collection of clothes which had been made for Meg.
“Put them down carefully,” Nancy instructed. “Then get out.”
Her servants did as they were bidden. Sarah stayed.
“That goes for you too,” snapped Nancy.
Sarah shot a startled glance at Meg, who nodded. “Do as Mistress Nancy says, Sarah.”
When the door was closed and they were alone, Nancy faced Meg. The fury in her eyes had intensified.
“The trouble you’ve caused! I’ll never forgive you for this. Your behaviour is quite beyond belief. You have the world at your feet, riches far above any woman’s wildest dreams, the opportunity to become Queen of England. All that on offer to you. You didn’t have to lift a finger to help yourself! And you run away! I’d beat you black and blue if I had my way!”
Meg stood with her head held high and her hands neatly at her sides. “I’m sure you would,” she said quietly.
“Have no doubt about it,” snapped Nancy. Meg’s quiet attitude was fanning her anger. “And I will. I’ll do it myself, personally, if you ever try anything like that again. Edmund’s too soft. I believe he’s even told you he’s forgiven you, fool that he is.”
“I didn’t believe him,” Meg said coolly.
“Good. Then you understand. And I’ll be watching you like a hawk from now on.”
Nancy moved closer to her. She was tall as well as broad, a powerful woman. Against her size and fury Meg felt frail and insignificant. She clenched her fists and faced up to her without wavering an inch.
“One more thing,” said Nancy. “What’s this about you and Richard becoming lovers?”
She grasped Meg by the shoulders, as if she would shake the truth out of her.
“That is also a lie,” Meg said.