Shadow of the Savernake: Book One of the Taxane Chronicles

by Jayne Hackett

  ‘Then I am happy for you,’ it contrasted keenly with her own misery. ‘I did not know about Ethan.’

  ‘Well, that is a great comfort, since we worked hard at keeping it so. Had Holless known, I would have been beaten and turned out for sure.’

  ‘I am happy for you Prudence; to know true love and be happy in it. I should have made a better choice — but thank God I’m not pregnant!’ The truth of her heartfelt comment escaped her lips and immediately she was horrified. Had she said that aloud! ‘Oh, Pru! I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking! Forgive me.’ She moved towards the girl whose back had stiffened.

  Pru’s tone sharpened, ‘And yet, both your husband and Nathaniel Haslet bedded you, I trew. Mayhap you are barren.’ It was a casual barb which Pru immediately regretted as spite. ‘Nay. This is not how friends speak to one another. It seems that we are spiky today. Let us agree that there is only one to blame for our sorrows and let us be friends agreeing to loathe only him!’ They let the tension between them dissipate in a few moments of shared thought whilst the chickens pecked around their feet.

  Florence sat next to her friend in that soft and comfortable silence, as each held their thoughts. She reached for Pru’s hand and it was given.

  ‘And yet it is not the hardest quandary which my parents face.’

  Florence looked up. What could possibly be harder than their dear daughter, made pregnant by a lad far away?

  ‘Ethan must not simply run away from Montebray. It would lead them to Snitterfield and to us. He must convince Holless that he has reason to go. Ethan is bound to Montebray as herdsman — although he is yet young — so many lads have joined the armies and left the land that Ethan is sore needed there. Now, Mother thinks that she can go to Goody Walton - Ethan’s mother — and that an arrangement can be made. They live in Stratford and it’s less than a day’s travel on foot. If the widow sends word that some disaster has caused a need for her son to return home, it may be that Holless can be persuaded that Ethan can return for a brief while. ‘Tis better that he be allowed a short visit than that he abscond from the Hall, as far as Holless is concerned. We need but little time to be married and then the road lies ahead as to what is to be done.’

  Florence felt that the plan was hopeful at best but had no alternative herself and so nodded with a wan smile. It was thin and she doubted Holless would be fooled by it but she would cling to any hope.

  It seemed probable that Nat and Lord Fairfax would have already left Montebray. Denzil would not want to advertise her disappearance. She wondered if he thought of her.

  When Dorcas and Walter emerged from the barn, they were clearly agitated. Prudence saw their pain, particularly that of her father and she squeezed Florence’s hand. Pru’s mother and father were good people and nothing could dent their love for their daughter but this little difficulty must be mended quickly.

  That evening, Dorcas had been feeding the chickens when Florence came outside for a breath of air. These small dwellings were certainly cosy but the atmosphere in them was nearly always suffocatingly smoky and hot. She liked the fondness on the woman’s face as the chickens clucked around her.

  ‘I know it is a foolish thing, but I wish that my husband was not quite so fond of roasted chicken,’ she sighed. ‘It is a dreadful sadness when I have to wring one of their sweet little necks. They trust me you see. Trust is important, don’t you think? Tell me true, how long were you married Denzil Moorcroft?’ The woman was astute and Florence paled. ‘You have a pale ring of flesh on your finger which no woman would miss and the lack of wear on your lady’s hands, tells your story.’

  ‘Almost a year, Mistress Dorcas.’

  ‘Your vow still holds. It was taken before God.’

  The bleak statement made Florence’s stomach sink. Surely the woman didn’t expect her to be bound to a monster such as Denzil. She implored her, ‘Mistress Dorcas, he is an evil man. You must believe me. Women are as nothing to him and he has no respect for his marriage vows and no fear of breaking them. I cannot be with him for he will surely kill me.’

  ‘You are his wife, child and you took a vow. This is how others will see it.’

  ‘And you? Do you see it so?’

  There was a long pause. ‘I have had a good and long marriage but I have seen those who did not take that sacrament to their hearts. I have seen men who bedded women willy-nilly and I have seen women who bear the bruises of their husband’s displeasure — or drunkenness. There are women who are tempted by another and cuckold their husbands. Some husbands and wives discover that they despise one another, bound eternally in mutual hatred which eats away at them until the day of their death. So, I think that there are many marriages. None of these are my marriage and so I think that the question is, what you believe of your marriage vow and your contract therein.’

  ‘Very well, then I shall tell you. I do not believe that marriage was intended to bind a wife to an abusive and unfaithful husband. Cruelty and violence are not a part of that contract. I will not live my life under that threat.’

  But Dorcas’ words had made Florence think. She had not married Denzil with a clear conscience. She had lied about who she was and had presented herself as someone else. The greatest secret about where she’d come from, she did not share with Denzil and never would. Truly, the marriage was built upon lies — hers and Denzil’s – but Florence knew that she bore some responsibility here. Her silence spoke volumes.

  ‘I see. For your friendship with Prudence, my husband and I will shelter you but it is an uncommon thing for a woman to behave so and it would be best that your circumstances were not widely known. I seem to be obliged towards expediency today.’ She smiled. ‘Let us begin by disguising that tell-tale ring mark so that questions that you’d rather not answer, won’t be raised. There are some small tubs of dye in the last shed. Find a shade that will cover the mark and dip your hands in. Their colour can then be explained by your work here.’

  Florence’s thoughts returned constantly to Nat. Could he really have been so vengeful? He had the right. She’d seen the look in his eyes when he’d been with her in the garden — it wasn’t hatred. Perhaps there were other reasons why he’d not been there. Could Lord Fairfax have needed him or had some other man informed on what Nat had been planning to do? No. If he could have, he would have sent word to her.

  A more sinister possibility began to emerge from the depths of her imagination: had Denzil recognised him and complained to Fairfax? And where had Holless been all of that time? There was little that happened at Montebray that wasn’t known to him. Only something dire would have prevented Nat from being there. He’d been prepared to desert for the love of her, she was sure of it. As relieved as she’d been to arrive at the Southeys’ house, she was now unsettled, feeling that she was in the wrong place. She found herself believing that she should have stayed at Montebray – as much as the thought of it filled her with terror.

  Much of the next morning was taken with Dorcas’ preparations for travel. She put together a knapsack with some basic supplies and a leather sheath into which she inserted a sharp knife and with pursed lips, forbad anyone to argue about it. She was set. They had talked about Walter Southey travelling in her stead but he had an urgent commission to complete of the measuring of fine riding gauntlets at Chaseton Park, where his absence could not easily have been explained or excused, and in any case, Goodwife Southey was a frequent traveller to Stratford, to see a friend who was known to have a wasting disease. No one would question this merciful journey. She left her family and household with clear instructions about what must be done in her absence.

  ‘There’s little point in hiding in the house, Prudence. I have no doubt at all that the local gossips will already have seen that you are returned to us with your friend. But we may let them wonder why a little longer. They have rich and fertile minds and will find a cause all too soon, but they will have no certainty of it and we must give them none until we have achieved our aims here.

  H
usband: be busy in your work and smile at the happy return of our daughter. When asked — and they will ask — tell them that the Hall had no further need for two wenches and that since our girl was sorely homesick, she was bade return and take her useless friend with her! Laugh at it husband. I shall make all haste and return in two days.’ She was solid and sure as she spoke and Florence felt reassured. Walter was unsurprised by his wife’s demeanour and his eyes reflected his pride in her natural strength. This was the woman he had married and shared his life with and he gave thanks for it! He held out a small purse which she stared at it, because he could still surprise her.

  ‘Aye, well, I have every faith in you Dorcas and your exceptional powers of persuasion,’ he smiled wryly, ‘but it never hurts to back faith with coin. Your cousin will no doubt welcome a small stipend to encourage her to send word to her son and to ask fewer questions than she usually does.’

  Dorcas hugged him, stretching her chubby arms to reach around him. Florence had a sudden vision of Teletubbies.

  ‘You are a good man Walter Southey,’ she kissed him on the cheek.

  ‘Mm. We’ll see about that if Lord Amersham pays his bill for the gauntlets in a timely manner or with his usual delay. If not, then it may be that one of those very fat hens out there are for the pot this month rather than decorating the yard with their droppings!’

  Dorcas blanched at the very thought. Walter grinned, shaking his head at the foolishness of her affection for them. ‘Take care, my Dorcas. Godspeed.’

  There was a flurry of embraces and she was gone down the lane taking Florence’s hopes of hearing something about Nat’s whereabouts with her. After their conversation in the yard, Florence had thought very hard about asking Dorcas to ask about Nat. She was already a wife who had deserted her husband and Dorcas was not comfortable with that. How might she react when she heard that there was another man in the mix? It didn’t matter. Florence no longer cared about her own reputation. That Nat was safe was vital. She waited for Dorcas just outside the shop.

  ‘So, you knew this erstwhile soldier before Montebray?’

  Florence heard the disapproval in the woman’s voice.

  ‘I did. I was separated from my home and family and Nathanial Haslet rescued me from a lone and dangerous life on the road. He did not take advantage of me. Nat is a good man. He wanted us to be married,’ she spoke very quietly.

  Dorcas was excellent at remaining silent.

  ‘I rejected him. I chose very badly. Not for love but for position and security — and to keep him safe. I will regret it forever.’

  ‘Aye, well, you’ll not be the first who’s made that choice, girl. Few have the luxury of marrying for love. I was very fortunate in my parents’ choice of Walter Southey and have had no cause to regret it these twenty years.’

  ‘I have been afraid Dorcas and not use to the hardships of life.’

  Dorcas looked hard at her. ‘I am sorry that the choice you made was not satisfactory for you. It is a sad thing when a wife finds no joy in a marriage. You married Denzil Moorcroft for his wealth and his position, Florence. Did he not give you that? Was being his wife a bettering of your position?’

  ‘Yes, but . . .’

  ‘Do you think girl, that there is anything more to life than that which you make of it? There is no less dignity in feeding those silly chickens than in being a great lady with servants who will do her bidding. You mistake the flattery that others pay to you with that of contentment in your heart.’ There was no easy sympathy from Dorcas.

  ‘We must all strive in this life, Florence. Walter built this business on the back of his father’s work and I have given him my help and support, but do not think that there is not a day when the spectre of starvation does not loiter. We fight to earn our pennies. It is why Prudence had to leave us. Life has been hard with our boys gone to fight and many a day, there was not enough for our table.’

  ‘Do not think that even if you find this man, that life will be without struggle. Our life is one of strife and woe and so we celebrate our joys when we find them — a good man, children who honour us and the simple kindnesses of friends and neighbours. To be loved and to love. What more is there, girl, at the very end? You have made your choice to escape the bonds of a cruel marriage. I cannot condone the breaking of a sacred oath but I will not condemn you for it. And yes, I will ask of this Nat Haslet and I will bring word to you of him if I can.’ Florence thanked her, feeling less certain of herself than before.

  She helped wherever she could. She fetched, carried and cleaned while Pru helped her father in the shop but the sense of ill in her stomach increased with every passing hour until she found herself nervous and dizzy. She had the strongest feeling that Nat was in danger. Florence felt the pull of the thread which fastened her to Nat and, throwing down the cloth she’d been folding, she stormed into the shop, ready to tell them that she had to go back.

  Walter was standing in the doorway trying to focus on the two figures coming hurriedly towards him but Pru’s eyesight was sharper, ‘Pa. It’s mother — and Ethan!’ she ran towards them, falling into Ethan’s arms. Dorcas was hot and sweaty and very thirsty. Walter ushered her into the kitchen, closing the shutters for the day. He brought a flagon of cider and watched while she and Ethan recovered.

  ‘I did not reach Stratford, husband. Ethan met me on the road, at some pace. He has news.’ Her face was grim.

  Florence already knew. Her guts were churning.

  ‘Florence, girl, sit,’ she gestured taking her hands. ‘‘Tis hard news I have, my dear. He has your man.’ Dorcas had always believed in such news being delivered swiftly.

  ‘I know. Nat would not have deserted me,’ the way I deserted him, she thought.

  ‘Ethan, tell what you know.’ Prudence stood by him, proud and worried.

  ‘Mistress . . .’ Florence interrupted him.

  ‘No. Florence is my name,’ she thought that she would start to be herself.

  Ethan nodded. ‘Pru told me what plan you had with Nat. She was sure that she would be safe under his protection.’ He affirmed his understanding to Pru’s parents. ‘I know this man. He is a good fellow. It is the only reason I would let Pru go with them — she had to be away from that . . . ’

  ‘Aye, lad. We know of Moorcroft.’ Walter spoke softly to him. ‘That is one thing for which you hold no blame Ethan Walton.’

  Ethan caught the meaning and swallowed. ‘Each one of us knew that Nat was there. A soldier’s sash and hat do not disguise a man. I spoke to him before the dancing. I wanted to ask if he’d any news of Jonathan.’

  Ah, of course. His friend who’d never returned from Wolverhampton.

  ‘Nat Haslet told me a tale of how Jonathan . . . ’ he was grinning now at the memory of his friend’s exploits.

  ‘Another time, eh?’ Pru nudged him.

  ‘Aye. Well, I said to Nat that I knew of his plan but would speak nothing of it. He was angry that I knew and I told him that where my Pru was concerned, I had every right to be sure that she would be safe. He said . . . ’

  ‘Ethan, please! Tell me where Nat is,’ Florence begged.

  Ethan looked a little ruffled. ‘Aye . . . We parted on good terms and he agreed with me that I should stay for a while before I joined Pru. He said that he would leave word for me at the George on the North Road – said that the landlady was a friend.’

  Florence raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Then he left. Said that he had one final nail to put in Moorcroft’s coffin before they went. He winked at me and clapped me on the arm and then he went into the Hall. We heard the players strike up a lively tune and all were jigging to it — excepting Holless of course.’ Ethan looked like he might have spit on the floor at the mention of the man’s name but thought better of it as he caught Dorcas’ eye.

  ‘I spied that Master Nat sidled away during the tunes — but I knew this to be a good thing for he was meeting with you behind the stable. I watched but he did not come back and you did not c
ome back so I thought that all was well.’ He looked agitated, ‘I am a fool and should have made sure of it.’

  ‘You did what you thought right. No more could be asked, Ethan,’ Pru patted his arm.

  Florence couldn’t help the small sob that escaped. Nat had had every intention of leaving with her. ‘Please. Go on,’ she needed him to focus.

  ‘Well, the time passed and I was happy that my Pru – and you — were well away from Montebray. I was helping Cook to clear the Hall. We had found a jug of wine, not quite empty and we sat for a moment to finish it off. ‘Twould have been rude not to. All others had gone to their beds and it was dark. Cook was dozing and I was about to wake her when I saw the strangest sight. Moorcroft and Holless came down the staircase with Nat Haslet hung between their arms. He was insensible, for although his eyes were open he could not stand alone and when he tried to speak his words were . . . I could not tell what he said.

  ‘He was trying to speak?’

  ‘Yes. But it was as though he were drunk.’

  ‘Was there . . . blood?’

  ‘Not that I could see, Mi . . . Florence. It took the two of them to bring him with them.’

  Florence found that she was clutching the table edge, her knuckles white.

  ‘They dragged him towards the hall and then something which I had not seen before happened. Holless did seem to press the wall beneath the stairs and it opened as a door. I could see little beyond it but blackness — but I think that perhaps there were stairs there — and they went down into it, the door closing behind them. Then did I find the courage to venture towards where they had been but I could see no catch for a door. Cook had awoken and was calling for me and I thought that I had to go to the woman to quieten her before she raised the whole house. She was the worse for drink. I am very sorry for it for I do believe that Nat is still down in that place — and I cannot think it for the good. After that, I knew that I would not stay a moment longer in that nest of vipers,’ he spoke softly, his eyes meeting Pru’s. ‘And I have . . . business here,’ he blushed.