A King's Betrayal

by Sole, Linda

  As she entered the vast hall with its high vaulted roof, beautifully gilded and painted, its walls hung with banners and shields, she saw that Ruth and William were standing together. They both looked anxious and grave and there was no sign of a child. Beth’s heart began to race. Why were they looking at her like that?

  ‘Beth,’ Anne cried and came towards her, hands outstretched. ‘Forgive me. It is sad news I bear. You must prepare yourself for the worst.’

  ‘Katharine?’ Beth gave a cry of alarm. Her chest felt tight, the blood pounding at her temples. ‘Where is she? Is she ill?’

  ‘The child we found is dead,’ William said and the floor seemed to rise towards Beth. She clutched at Ruth’s arm, as her breathing became difficult. ‘She had been left by the side of the road and was attacked by dogs or foxes.’

  ‘No…’ A scream was building inside Beth as let go of Ruth and put her hands to her face. She shook her head, moaning, ‘Not Katharine. She promised to care for my child but she left her to die…no, no, no…’

  ‘We cannot know for sure that the child is yours,’ Ruth said. ‘William tells me your child must be nearly eighteen months and the babe found is younger – scarcely more than a few months.’

  Beth gave a cry of despair. ‘Katharine, my Katharine is dead.’ Her head was whirling, the pain too hard to bear. ‘She was born in the late spring this year…’

  Ruth’s face was becoming misty and indistinct; the blackness was closing in on Beth. She made a moaning sound and pitched forward.

  ‘Help me,’ Ruth cried as she tried to catch her.

  ‘What did she say?’ William moved to catch Beth, scooping her into his arms and holding her close to his chest. His manner was puzzled, anxious. ‘How can the babe be but a few months old? She was conceived in the early summer of 1413. I have not lain with her since…’

  ‘Easily enough if the whore lay with another,’ Anne’s spiteful voice said from behind them. She has made a fool of you cousin. She put a spell on you but now you can see her for what she is.’

  ‘Enough!’ He rounded on her, Beth in his arms, his expression one of fury mixed with hurt as he accepted that her spiteful words must be the truth yet fought the knowledge. ‘You will not speak such filthy trash of the woman I love. Ruth, prepare her bed. I shall take Beth to her chamber.’

  ‘Of course, cousin.’

  Ruth scurried ahead of him, lifting her tunic above her slender ankles as she ran up the tower stair. She entered Beth’s chamber and pulled back the silken covers on the great bed so that William could lay the girl carefully down. He was frowning, angry, his expression like thunder.

  ‘You must not be angry with my mother,’ she said softly, a hint of pity in her voice. ‘Did Beth tell you the child was yours?’

  He hesitated, then shook his head. ‘She knew I thought it and did not deny it.’

  ‘You saved her from an angry mob. Mayhap she meant to tell you the truth in time. You must have known it had the child been found alive for she could not have been yours if...’ Ruth faltered. ‘Forgive me, cousin. I mean not to hurt you. Beth would not deliberately lie to you.’

  ‘Perhaps not – or perhaps she liked the idea of living in the castle now that she has seen its comforts.’

  ‘Do not judge her so harshly,’ Ruth advised. ‘Leave her to me now, sir, and return when you have considered more on this matter. If the child is not yours and she has no husband to protect her she may have been forced. She was alone and vulnerable – and men will oft take advantage.’

  William’s mouth hardened. ‘I know it might be so – but I thought she had come to me because of the child, because it was mine.’

  ‘You asked her to wed you. Beth needed a home for herself and her child. Is it surprising that she did not wish to disappoint you? In her circumstances she must have been afraid of the future.’

  ‘You plead her case? Your mother has no such scruple.’

  ‘My mother was wrong. Please forgive her for her unkindness. She is bitter because we lost our home.’

  ‘You have as much cause. Are you not bitter?’

  ‘I shall be content to serve Beth, at least for the moment – if you still intend to wed her?’

  ‘That is a question I must ask myself.’

  William turned and walked from the room. Hearing a cry of distress, Ruth bent over the bed. Beth’s eyelids were flickering as she reached out to stroke her forehead.

  ‘You are so beautiful and still a child at heart. I think you innocent of any crime. Men were ever betrayers. If William sends you away I shall come with you. We shall go to the convent of the Sisters of Mercy and find comfort there.’

  Beth opened her eyes and looked up at Ruth.

  ‘My child,’ she whispered. ‘Was it truly Katharine they found?’

  ‘I am not certain. The child was a similar age to yours but the child they found had been dead several days for the body had decayed. It was poorly gowned and the hair I saw was dark – did you not tell me that Katharine had pale hair and a gown of silk.’

  ‘Her hair was like moonlight, silvery gold, and I made her a silk gown from the gown that was mine as a child.’ Beth sat up against the pillows. ‘She was so young and beautiful. You do not think it was my Katharine?’

  Ruth sat on the edge of the bed, her gentle face settled in an expression of sympathy. She took Beth’s hand in her own. ‘I believe the child was abandoned by a poor woman, who perhaps could not afford to feed it. It would not be the first nor will it be the last. I cannot promise you that Katharine is safe, because I do not know – but I think that child we found had been dead at least a week or more - longer than yours has been missing.’

  Beth wiped her cheeks. ‘Did I faint? Did William bring me here?’ Her gaze narrowed. ‘What did I say – did he hear me?’

  ‘Sir William knows the child is not his.’

  ‘Was he very angry?’ Beth pleated the silk covers with restless fingers. ‘Will he send me away now?’

  ‘Sir William is upset. He will wish to know who fathered the babe.’ Ruth captured her hand and held it tight. ‘Were you raped? Did the brute force you to yield to him?’

  Beth hesitated, then, ‘No,’ she said in a quiet strong voice. ‘He did not force me. He came to me one warm night when I bathed in a pool in the woods. I thought myself safe, hidden from anyone who might be in the wood but he must have heard me and he came. It was like a dream. We played like children in the water and then he kissed me and loved me. It was beautiful and I did not resist him. In the morning I woke and he had gone.’

  ‘He seduced you and then left you as you slept.’ Ruth’s lip curled in scorn. ‘He was thoughtless and careless, thinking only of his own pleasure. He used you very ill, Beth. Did he give you nothing?’

  ‘He left his velvet cloak to cover me lest I grew cold.’ Beth was thoughtful for a moment. ‘It was lovely. He taught me how beautiful loving can be between a man and a woman.’

  ‘He seduced you and then left you as you slept – that is a coward’s way. You should tell Sir William that he raped you. You can be mistress here, Beth. William loves you. If he believes you were raped he will forgive you. If he thinks you went to a lover of your own choosing he may decide to make you his mistress instead of his wife.’

  ‘It is all I expected when I came here. I should tell him the truth. It would be unfair to deceive him.’ Beth wiped a tear. ‘If he cannot forgive me I shall go away. I do not think I could bear to be his whore now that I might have been so much more. Besides, I must look for Katharine. William will not search for her now that he knows she is not his daughter.’

  ‘You cannot be sure that he will abandon the search.’

  ‘Yes, I can.’ Beth closed her eyes for a moment. ‘He has been so kind to me since I came here, giving me fine gowns and offering me anything I want. I thought I should be happy as his wife, but now…’ She sighed as she opened her eyes. ‘He will hate me because I did not tell him the truth. He will think I meant to dece
ive him. I would have told him; I intended it but when he thought she was his I did not wish to hurt him.’

  ‘I thought it was something of the kind,’ Ruth said and smiled. ‘I have begun to care for you as a sister, Beth. If William sends you away I shall come with you. I know some people who will give us shelter for a time. I have a little money and we may set up home together. We might both find work in a town.’

  ‘You must not leave your home for my sake. You wished to wed a rich merchant.’

  ‘If God wills it I shall marry, but I can find peace in serving others. There is a place I know of not far from here. The Sisters take in homeless women and care for them until they move on.’

  ‘Do you mean the Sisters of Mercy?’

  ‘Have you visited their school?’

  ‘No, but I have heard of them from Mistress Soames. It was she that left me her silk dress, which she had when she worked for a lady many years ago.’

  ‘The Sisters would help us,’ Ruth said. ‘Yet we could stay here together if you tell William you were raped.’

  ‘I do not wish to lie. Besides, is it not said that if a child results from rape the woman must secretly have encouraged the man? For women can only conceive when they give themselves and feel pleasure.’

  ‘I too have heard this, though I do not believe it true. We must hope that William’s love for you is stronger than his pride.’ Ruth stood up. ‘You should rest and think. I shall return later.’

  ‘Thank you for all you have done.’ Beth felt her throat tighten. Ruth was a good friend, but she could not take her from her home. If the time came for her to leave she would go alone. At least she knew that the Sisters of Mercy had a school nearby and she could ask people to tell her the way. She would also ask if anyone had seen her child.

  Beth’s heart ached because she knew that the dead baby might easily have been Katharine, yet something inside told her that her child still lived. If William was angry and wished her to leave, she would take what she could from her cottage and sell the rest – and then she would search for the school Ruth had told her of. Perhaps there she would find someone that would help her.

  Beth felt sad because she knew she had hurt William’s pride and would do so again when she told him the truth of her child’s birth. He would be angry and he might hate her. She was sure that he would not continue to search for Katharine.

  She could hardly expect it. Even if he kept her here he would not wish to wed her. Beth felt a pang of loss. She had begun to like William and to enjoy the life that might have been hers here in the castle, but her instincts told her that his pride would make him reject her.

  It might be best to just slip away without telling him anything.

  Forty Eight

  William stood at the window of his solar, looking down at the activity in the courtyard below. Men were at their work, some training, others cleaning harness and tack, or sharpening their weapons, still others busy at their craft. From the blacksmith to the cooper the craftsmen came each day to the castle plying their trade in the forge and the little workshops that made the castle a thriving community. The cooper made barrels for the lord’s ale, which was brewed in the brew house; the farrier cared for the lord’s horses and those of his men; the baker provided bread for the large household; the masons were constantly employed keeping the walls in good repair, and the carpenter was busy from dawn to dusk. The old feudal law where men worked two or three days a week for his lord was no longer enforced, though some still preferred the benefits they received in goods rather than coin for their labour. Even though it was possible for a peasant to increase his land holding these days, or set up in a trade for himself, every man knew his place and most did not look above it. William was lord, the others came to serve him and to earn their bread. In the towns it might be different, for the guilds and aldermen had gained great power, especially in the borough towns, but here in the country it was the order of things; the way life had been for centuries.

  ‘Damn her!’ William swore aloud without realising it. ‘I am such a fool.’

  He had thought to take a woman who came from the woods as his bride. William had been ready to lay the world and all he owned at her feet, because he loved her, but she had deceived him – made a fool of him. Mistress Grey had known the child was not his. If the child had been his it must have been conceived in spring 1413 and this was late autumn 1415. He could not recall the exact day he’d lain with Beth but it was many months. If her child was only a few weeks it had been conceived in the spring of the previous year at the earliest.

  ‘Why did she deceive me? Why let me believe the child was mine?’ Once again he had spoken aloud without realising it.

  ‘Because she is a witch and a whore,’ Anne Redfern said from behind him. ‘Why should she tell you the truth when she knew you were fool enough to offer to wed her? If you want her take her. There is no need to offer a woman like that marriage. She is not fit to work in your kitchens. Marry her now and everyone will laugh at you behind your back.’

  ‘Be silent woman,’ William glared at her, but her words had touched him on the raw. Beth had made a fool of him and he was angry…hurt…and yet he knew deep inside him that he did not want to lose her. She had smiled and said she would be content to wed him – but would she play him false? Would she meet her lover in secret and laugh behind his back? He was a proud man and the thought struck at his pride.

  ‘Take what you want of the bitch and send her away,’ Anne said with a vicious twist of her mouth. ‘She is pretty I grant you that but she is a slut and ignorant. If you need a wife Ruth would be all you could desire. She would bear your children and order your house as it should be – and she would not lie with another behind your back.’

  ‘Shut your mouth, cousin, or I shall shut it for you,’ William warned. ‘Ruth is a good woman and I honour her – but Beth is the only woman I want.’

  He brushed past Anne roughly and left the solar. He did not look back, missing the malicious glare she sent at him as he strode away. William was no fool. He knew he’d had no right to command Beth’s loyalty after what he’d done to her – but she was firmly embedded in his heart and the thought of her lying with another struck him like a dagger. He still wanted her. He could never send her away, because without him she would be at the mercy of women like Anne Redfern. It was a pity he’d brought his cousin here. Ruth was gentle and kind but her mother was an evil viper.

  He still wanted Beth but he was hurt and angry. He needed an explanation!

  Beth had risen and dressed in the silk gown that Mistress Soames had given her, which Ruth had dried and cleansed for her, though it was torn in two places. She could not expect that William would wed her now. He would hate her for deceiving him. If she stayed he would use her as a whore, as he had the first time they met, and she did not wish to see the disappointment and hurt in his eyes. Much better to leave now without revealing the truth, which would hurt him more. Ruth had offered to leave with her, but Beth knew she would find life too hard without the comforts she took for granted. Beth had already begun to appreciate a warm fire and the good food at William’s table. Life on the road would be hard for her, but Ruth would sicken and die.

  Beth would take nothing Sir William had given her, because that would be stealing. She would go to her cottage, collect what she could carry and let Mistress Soames take what she wanted from the rest. Glancing round the chamber William had given her, Beth smothered a sigh. She might have been happy here had things been different.

  ‘What are you doing?’ William’s voice startled her. She spun round guiltily. His eyes were cold and angry as they swept over her. ‘Why are you wearing that dress?’

  ‘I must look for my child.’

  ‘You were leaving?’ His gaze narrowed. ‘Did you intend to tell me – or simply leave me without a word?’

  ‘I thought it best. I have hurt you, though ‘twas not my intention. I know you will not wish to wed me – and I must search for my daughter.’r />
  ‘I told you, the child was found.’

  ‘Ruth said the body had begun to rot. Katharine has been missing but a few days – besides, I know it was not her body. Her hair was pale like moonlight not dark.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘I feel in my heart that she still lives. You will not wish to search for a child that is not yours and I cannot rest until I know the truth. I must find my child.’

  ‘So you would leave me without a word.’ William’s mouth tightened with anger. ‘What were you taking with you? The gold chain I gave you?’

  ‘I have taken nothing. The chain lies there with the gown you sent me…’ Beth raised her head proudly. ‘I took food to live from your woods but I am not a thief – nor am I a whore, despite what folk say of me.’

  William took a step towards her. He reached out, grabbing her shoulders, shaking her. ‘Whose child was she? Tell me the truth. Was it one of the village men? Did he pay you – or did he force you?’

  ‘It was not one of the village men and I was not forced.’ Tears stung her eyes as she saw the nerve flicking at his temple and knew he was both hurt and angry. ‘He came one night as I bathed in the pool and we played like children. What happened was like a dream – an enchanted dream. In the morning he had gone and he did not come again. He was a knight but I do not know his name.’

  ‘Liar!’ William’s fingers bit into her flesh as he shook her again. ‘Did you love him or did he pay you? I would have given you everything I had – but you are a faithless whore.’

  ‘No, William. I swore no oath to you,’ Beth said with quiet dignity. ‘I was grateful for your help with Marthe that day but I made no promise to you – until I came here. Had you wed me I would have been faithful to you, but I know you must hate me now.’

  ‘I should hate you. You are a lying scheming bitch…’ Beth turned her face aside with a cry of distress. Wrenching back from his grasp, she tried to brush past him but he grabbed her wrist holding her fast. ‘Where do you think you are going? I have not done with you.’