‘Don’t be silly, child,’ Margery interrupted. ‘We don’t know whether you’ve broken that ankle and there’s no way of telling until I’ve brought the swelling down. Jenna, fetch me the arnica balm, please. It’s on the third shelf, right-hand side.’
‘The arnica, mistress? But I thought...’
‘Just fetch it, Jenna. We’ll worry about how it’s to be paid for later. Besides, having Sarah injured in this way will be very inconvenient for the Duchess. We must do our best to cure her.’
It seemed most unreasonable to Jenna that Mistress Jourdemayne was more concerned about Her Grace’s inconvenience than she was about Sarah’s obvious pain. But in fact, a plan was forming in Margery’s mind, a plan which depended very much on ensuring that Her Grace was not inconvenienced.
‘Now, Sarah,’ she said in a comforting tone as Jenna went off to fetch the balm, ‘I’m going to make you a hot, sweet infusion of camomile to calm you down and relax you. And don’t worry about the delivery.’
‘But the Duchess...’
‘Jenna can take Her Grace’s order up to the palace. You certainly won’t be able to walk. And I think it’s better for you to stay here and let me look after you until you can put some weight on that foot, then we’ll have to get someone to take you back to the palace on a cart.’
‘But she’ll kill me! You don’t know her. When she’s upset about something, she gets very angry and she takes it out on me. I must get back.’
‘I think I know Her Grace quite well, Sarah,’ said Margery, pouring boiling water onto some dried camomile flowers. ‘And she certainly won’t be pleased if you can’t walk. You wouldn’t be much use to her, now would you?’
‘But what –’
‘Don’t worry. Just leave it to me. Now, tell me, why is the Duchess so upset?’
‘Oh, the palace is full of gossip. They’ve just heard the Duchess of Bedford has had a baby girl. She’s to be called Elizabeth.’
‘Don’t you mean the Duke of Bedford’s widow, Sarah? The Lady Jacquetta is no longer the Duchess of Bedford. She relinquished that title when she married Sir Richard Woodville. So it’s hardly important that she’s had a baby, especially a girl.’
‘No, I know, mistress, but everyone is saying they hadn’t been married a decent time before the baby came. It’s disgusting, they’re saying.’
Margery hid a smile. ‘Yes, it is, isn’t it?’
It was no wonder the Duchess of Gloucester was upset, she thought. Here was yet another woman who had produced a baby with the apparent ease of a cat having kittens. Margery would have to redouble her efforts on behalf of her client.
When Jenna came back with the pot of arnica balm, Margery began to apply it to Sarah’s swollen ankle. The patient made a little yelping sound and winced in pain.
‘It’s all right, Sarah, this balm will soothe it and then I’ll bind it for you. We might need to call the bone-setter to look at it, but I’ll have to reduce the swelling first. At least the skin isn’t broken. Try not to move.’
She turned to where Jenna was hovering nearby, watching, wondering what she could do to be helpful.
‘Jenna, you’ll have to take the order up to the palace without delay and you must ask if you can see the Duchess personally, to explain to her what has happened.’
‘But ... but, mistress, I can’t do that. She’ll never agree to see me.’
‘Well, you do have something very personal to deliver to her. And you’ve met her already. She won’t eat you. Remember?’
Jenna nodded. True, the Duchess hadn’t eaten her. If anything, Jenna had felt a little sorry for her: she was rather a pathetic, vulnerable figure in her desperate longing for a child. But even so...
‘Oh, please, Jenna,’ said Sarah, wincing again as Margery applied some pressure in binding up her damaged ankle. ‘Please, Jenna, please take the order to her. Otherwise I’ll be sure to lose my job.’
‘In fact, Jenna,’ said Margery, ‘I’m sure the Duchess would take it kindly if you suggested to her that you could take over Sarah’s duties for a week or so until her ankle has healed, rather than putting Her Grace to the trouble of finding someone else. She won’t want to be inconvenienced.’
Jenna’s eyes widened in alarm. ‘Oh, mistress, I couldn’t possibly do that! I wouldn’t know what to do ... where to start...’
‘It’s easy,’ said Sarah. ‘You just have to keep watching her, clearing up after her, washing her small linens, anticipating what she wants and staying out of her way when she’s with the Duke. And always remember to call her “Your Grace”. She’s very fussy about that!’
‘But I wouldn’t know how to dress her hair, or that sort of thing. I ... I don’t really know what a Lady’s maid is supposed to do.’
‘Just do what she tells you,’ Sarah said, ‘and don’t worry about her hair. She always wears a headdress, so you’ve just got to work out how to pin it up underneath. And she leaves her hair long at night because that’s how the Duke likes it.’
‘Go and put on your good clothes, Jenna, and then go up to the palace,’ said Margery. ‘And be prepared to stay on there for a few days if the Duchess wants you to. Sarah can finish her drink and I’ll finish packing up the order for you to take with you.’
‘But, mistress ...’ Jenna was making hopeless little gestures with her hands, letting them fall to her sides, feeling that she had absolutely no part in what was going on, feeling manipulated.
‘Now,’ said Margery, ‘we don’t want the Duchess to think you’re slovenly. You have a job to do. You must do it properly and you must look the part. So, first help me get Sarah up to the dormitory and then go and wash your face and tidy yourself up.’
Jenna swallowed hard. This would be without doubt the most demanding job she’d ever been called upon to do and she wasn’t at all sure she was equal to the challenge: and yet she had a better chance of making a success of it than Alice had. She never lost sight of that.
It was pointless dithering. She would do it, and she would do it well.
Between them, the two managed to manoeuvre Sarah as far as the women’s dormitory above the brewhouse where, under the calming influence of camomile laced with powdered Valerian root, she almost immediately fell asleep on Jenna’s pallet. Mistress Jourdemayne went back to the farmhouse to finish the Duchess’s order, leaving Jenna to make herself as presentable as she could.
Packing a few necessities into a drawstring bag, Jenna frowned at the thought of what Kitty would make of it all. Inquisitive little Kitty would be certain to bombard Sarah with questions. And when she herself returned to the loft over the brewhouse – whenever that might be – Kitty’s questioning would no doubt reach new peaks of persistence.
***
Within sight of the palace, Jenna stopped for a moment to slip her feet out of her old alderwood clogs and into the new leather shoes she had bought with some of the money her Mistress had paid for the tincture. Margery had urged her to wear the new ones around the farmhouse from time to time so that her feet could get used to them, but Jenna never had. Now she regretted ignoring the advice, but clogs would have been entirely inappropriate footwear for a Lady’s maid in the grand surroundings of the palace so there was nothing for it.
It was as well that she had already been to the palace with Margery, otherwise she would have had no idea where or how to approach it. Now she found her way confidently to a small door in the southern wall.
‘I wish to see Her Grace, the Duchess of Gloucester,’ she said when she was challenged. The guard who blocked her way regarded her with disdain.
‘And who might you be, then?’ he asked. ‘And what might the likes of you be wanting with Her Grace?’
Jenna was aware that no guard worthy of the name would allow her access to the Royal Palace just for the asking, but she disliked this man’s lofty, dismissive attitude. Still, there was nothing to be gained by being haughty with him.
‘I have a personal message for Her Grace from Mistress Marge
ry Jourdemayne. Please be good enough to let me pass.’
‘Oh, Old Mother Madge,’ he said with a genial smile. ‘Why didn’t you say so?’
Jenna was indignant. ‘My employer’s name is Mistress Jourdemayne and I’ll thank you to remember that. I could report you to the Duchess, you know.’
‘Yes, but you won’t, will you?’ he said, giving her a huge wink as he opened the fortified gate for her to enter. ‘Come on ... come in. Everybody round here knows Old Mother Madge. Bit of a laugh, really, the way the Duchess and her are such big mates.’
‘Where will I find Her Grace?’ Jenna snapped. ‘That is all you need to tell me.’
As she followed the guard’s directions, she was challenged several times, but every time she mentioned her employer’s name it was as though a magical key opened the door for her and she was allowed in without further questioning. Margery Jourdemayne was clearly a frequent and well-known visitor to the Duchess’s private apartments in the palace.
Her Grace was anxious. ‘What’s the matter?’ she said as soon as Jenna was shown in to her presence. ‘What’s wrong? Where’s Sarah?’
‘I’m afraid Sarah has met with an accident, Your Grace,’ Jenna replied nervously. ‘She tripped and fell into a ditch while she was on her way to the farm this afternoon. She has hurt her ankle very badly and Mistress Jourdemayne says she’ll have to stay at Eybury farmhouse until she can put her weight on it. She can’t walk. She won’t even be clopping for at least a week.’
‘Won’t be what?’
‘I’m sorry, Your Grace. Clopping. Er, limping.’
‘Oh! And what am I supposed to do in the meantime?’ demanded the Duchess. ‘How am I supposed to manage?’
Jenna was appalled though her expression didn’t change. How could anyone be so selfish?
‘Well, Your Grace,’ she said, ‘I have brought your order and Mistress Jourdemayne has suggested that perhaps you could make use of my services until Sarah has recovered. That is if you would like to. I’m very willing to try to help. It is an emergency, after all.’
‘But would you be able to do what Sarah does for me? Are you prepared to fulfil the duties of a lady’s maid? Dressing my hair? Looking after my clothes? Washing my linens? I demand the best possible service.’
‘I believe I can, Your Grace, and I am certainly willing to do my best.’
‘Well, I suppose you’re quite nicely spoken, even if your accent is a little strange. And you’re tidily dressed. So we’ll just have to see if your best is good enough,’ said the Duchess. ‘As you say, it is an emergency. Mind you, I won’t tolerate any bad manners, dirty hands, anything like that. And if I see you picking your nose ...! Very well then, if you learn to speak proper English, we’ll see how you get on. You can begin by folding those clean linens and putting them away in the linen press. And be very careful how you fold them. I don’t want them creased.’
Jenna was already beginning to see why Sarah was so terrified of upsetting the Duchess. It would be difficult to remember that under the haughty, demanding, supercilious exterior there was a vulnerable woman who had become aware that the opportunities life had offered her in the past would not be there for much longer. Margery had already identified that. The Duchess was growing old, she was probably frightened for her future, certainly more frightened of that than Jenna was of her. The pity was that her servants had to bear the brunt of her uncertainties.
***
It was bad enough, thought Kitty, that when Jenna had spent all her time working with the Mistress, the job of running the dairy had devolved to Hawys. Kitty didn’t like that one bit, but at least Jenna had still slept in the women’s dormitory, so she saw her each night when work was done. But nowadays, she didn’t even see her at night because, since Sarah had fallen and Jenna had gone up to the palace instead of her, Sarah was sleeping on Jenna’s pallet and Jenna was staying away altogether.
Kitty really missed her. She hoped it wouldn’t be long before she came back and she’d be able to wish her good night before settling down to sleep. Jenna would always ask her what she had been doing during the day and how things were in the dairy. Master Jourdemayne, Kitty told her scornfully, was trying to teach Hawys to do the milk tallies but Hawys wasn’t very good at it and the Master did his best, but he did get cross occasionally. Jenna’s conscience pricked her at hearing that but it was as well she didn’t see much of William these days. Her feelings for him hadn’t diminished in the slightest.
‘Hush, Kittymouse,’ she would say, putting her finger on Kitty’s little tip-tilted nose, to silence her. ‘Don’t criticise. I’m sure Hawys is doing her best. And don’t imagine that you won’t have to do the milk tallies yourself one day, young lady. So it’s important to learn how to count. You watch what Master Jourdemayne teaches Hawys and try to learn.’
Kitty nodded. Jenna had only to suggest something to her and the youngster would do it immediately, just to please her. Kitty had come to love Jenna dearly and could be quite scornful of Hawys. Hawys had a whining voice and she always seemed to be complaining about something. Still, once she and Seth were married, then she probably wouldn’t whine so much. Why was it, Kitty wondered, that women moped around the place, thinking about men. In her opinion, men were far too noisy and she couldn’t think of any man who would make her happy, even when she grew up. Oh, except Robin the Drover of course.
Then again, Kitty wasn’t sure she still wanted to marry Robin and anyway, he was probably far too old for her. He couldn’t really be expected to wait until she was old enough to marry him, she realised that. No, what Robin needed was someone who was pretty and kind and lots of fun to be with, someone nearer his own age. Someone like Jenna. Yes, that would be the ideal thing and, though they didn’t know it yet, she intended to bring the two together so that they could be married and live happily ever after.
She had been thinking along these lines for several weeks, though she’d said nothing to Jenna, not until she had formulated her plans for the pair. And never having told Robin she was going to marry him in the first place, there was no point in telling him that she wouldn’t mind if he married Jenna instead. Anyway, she hadn’t seen him for at least three months, though she knew that as soon as the shearing was over, he would arrive. He would be bringing a big drove of cattle as he always did around harvest time. So he could be here any day.
In the meantime, she watched carefully every time Master Jourdemayne tried to teach Hawys to calculate the butter yield from the day’s milk and make a note of the figures. Kitty was surprised that Hawys seemed to find it so difficult since she herself had already learned to count up to twelve. This meant the Master could now entrust her with collecting the eggs from the new hens and sorting them by the dozen, though he said she was not quite old enough to take them to market on her own so Jane, one of the other dairymaids, always went with her.
The latch was lifted on the dairy door and the women looked up from their work.
‘Hello, ladies,’ William Jourdemayne greeted them with a wide smile. The dairymaids giggled.
‘How do you feel about a bit of extra work tonight?’ They groaned in unison.
‘Now come on, ladies, it’s not so bad. And I’ll let you off doing the milk tallies, Hawys.’
‘Well, that’s a relief anyway, master,’ Hawys said. ‘What’s the extra you want us to do? The milking?’
‘Yes, as usual, please, Hawys. We’re always short of time when we’re harvesting and there’s a big drove coming in this afternoon and it will need all the available men to handle it, so we could do with some help to get our own neats milked and settled. We’ll have a look at the tallies tomorrow.’
‘Ooooh, Master Jourdemayne, is Robin the Drover coming today?’
‘No, Kitty, not today. This drove’s coming in from Wiltshire. Why?’
‘Oh, nothing, Master,’ said Kitty airily, ‘it’s just that if it was Robin, then I should have to find Jenna to tell her, that’s all.’
‘Why w
ould she need to know?’
‘Because she’s going to marry him.’
‘Is she?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Kitty, nodding emphatically. The other dairymaids sniggered among themselves but said nothing. They knew Kitty of old.
William was caught entirely off guard. It couldn’t be true! Was the child lying? She could be a very fanciful little girl, so she probably was. But maybe she wasn’t and he didn’t want to appear stupid by challenging her in front of the other dairymaids. He could feel the blood draining from his face. He’d been trying to avoid being alone with Jenna so, of course, he knew nothing about this. And now she was marrying Robin Fairweather! Why hadn’t someone told him? Why had Robin never said anything? And why, why in Heaven’s name, did he feel so dismayed? It was nothing to do with him.
‘Are you all right, master?’ Kitty sounded anxious.
‘What? Yes. Oh, yes. I’m fine, Kitty. Don’t worry. All right then, run along. Just remember about the milking tonight and, Hawys, I’ll see you tomorrow.’
He should have found another dairymaid by now, of course he should, ever since Jenna first went to work for Margery. But he hadn’t found anyone to replace her yet, not that he’d really been looking. He still hadn’t quite accepted that she was not going to return to her job in the dairy. But, if what he had just heard was true, she never would.
William didn’t know how he managed to get out of the dairy without making a complete fool of himself. Kitty’s earnest little face haunted him and her words repeated themselves like an evil litany in his brain.
‘Because she’s going to marry him ... to marry him ... to marry him ... because she’s going to marry him...’
As if he didn’t have enough to worry about today. The drove was a bigger one than usual and it was expected within the hour. And Piers the cowherd was ill with some sweating, vomiting sickness though, thank God, there were no buboes in his armpits so it wasn’t the Plague. With luck, none of the other men would go down with it, whatever it was.
The Witch of Eye Page 18