Authors: June Francis
‘Well met, Master Edmund! It is good to see you.’
‘And I you, Brother Thomas, and looking as healthy as ever. The lord abbot, how is he?’
‘Well, but the cellarer is ill and so your uncle is finding the burden of responsibility lying a little heavier on his shoulders.’
Edmund grimaced. ‘It seems I have come at an inconvenient time?’
The monk shook his head. ‘It will do him good to see you. And the infirmarer will be glad of your advice concerning what ails the cellarer.’
‘Then I must make time to visit him. First, I shall take the ladies to the guest hall. You remember Dickon?’
Brother Thomas nodded and gave Edmund’s friend a long-suffering look.
‘Hail and well-met, Brother Thomas,’ said Dickon, grinning. ‘I’ll never forget my time here learning my letters and music.’
Felicia exchanged looks with Joan and winked at her. Her cousin pulled a face.
The monk stepped back to make room for the horses to pass beneath the stone archway that led to the great court. They made their way to the lodging-house where Edmund had word with the hospitaller before turning to the others. A brother will show you the way to your chambers. I shall join you after I have spoken with my uncle.’
‘You will return before supper?’ asked Felicia.
He nodded before making his way through a doorway and out into the sunlight. He crossed the great court and entered a passage that led to the cloisters. His uncle Walter was most likely in the scriptorium. After pausing to speak to a monk at the gate, he was allowed through. His feet rang loudly on the stone tiles, and he listened intently before opening a door.
His uncle looked up from the page in front of him and his thin, rather austere face lit up. ‘My boy, what brings you here? It is good to see you.’
‘I have matters of importance to discuss with you,’ said Edmund.
Walter’s snowy brows drew together. ‘Let us walk in the garden,’ he suggested.
Edmund followed him from the room, walking silently by his side until they came to the fish-ponds. It had been a favoured place all those years ago when he had stayed here. He gazed down at the grey-green shadowy shapes gliding through the waters.
‘What is it, Edmund?’
Edmund ceased his contemplation of the water. ‘Mother is dead,’ he murmured, only a slight blurring of the words betraying his emotion. ‘So are my father, Sir Gervaise, and my half-brothers.’
Walter’s eyes dilated with shock and he placed a hand on Edmund’s arm. ‘I grieve for you, my son. What pestilence took them off?’
‘It was no plague or fever, unless you call Philip Meriet such.’ Slowly at first and then more rapidly, he began to tell his uncle what had happened. By the time he had concluded his tale, his eyes were the cold grey that Felicia had seen that first day. ‘Whether Philip Meriet knew of my mother’s relationship with my father and who I was, I do not know—but he intended to kill us both. Before she died Mother told me to come to you. So here I am.’ Edmund fell silent, rubbing a weary hand across his forehead. ‘I am late in the coming and have a confession to make before you and God,’ he added unevenly.
His uncle stared at him with compassion. They had been walking across the shaven lawns all the time Edmund had been talking, but now they came to a halt.
‘You sought revenge? That is natural, my son. Although it would have been best to leave it to God. Do you know why your mother told you to come to me?’
‘No. She was not lucid enough during her final days. I know that I am Sir Gervaise’s bastard, and I believe his only remaining blood kin. So tell me, Uncle Walter, am I right to hope that his lands will come to me?’
Walter placed his hand on Edmund’s arm. ‘Your birth was a well kept secret but you are very like your father in appearance. It is possible that Philip Meriet might have guessed your identity and for that reason alone your life would be in danger.’
‘He made no sign of recognition when I played the part of a serving man.’
Walter nodded. ‘Let us go back to my lodgings. I have a document I have kept these last twenty-six years.’
Edmund’s spirits lifted.
They retraced their steps to the abbot’s lodgings. Walter poured out wine made from the monastery’s own vines before turning to the great carved chest that stood in the corner of the shady room. It took some time to find what he was seeking, but at last he came over to Edmund with the scroll in his hand. Edmund took the document, turning it over and fingering its seal. With the knife from his girdle he prised it off, conscious of his uncle’s watchful eyes upon his face as he read the Latin carefully. When he had finished, he sighed with relief before lifting his goblet of wine and draining the cup.
‘What are you going to do?’ Walter filled their goblets again.
Edmund did not immediately reply, but walked over to the window and gazed out at the great court. ‘It is unlikely that I can gain my lands without help, so I mean to seek out the Lord Edward.’ He tapped his fingers against the goblet’s rim. ‘You have heard the news?’
‘Of his escape while a prisoner at Hereford? Aye. It is rumoured that the young Earl of Gloucester was behind it. His brother was one of Edward’s guards.’
Edmund’s eyes blazed, and he grasped the edge of the table. ‘But Gloucester was on the Montfort’s side a year ago! If he has gone over to the prince, he will take many more with him.’
‘He travelled with the Lord Edward to Matilda de Braose’s castle at Ludlow.’
‘Mistress Felicia’s steward, Sir William, is said to have gone to Ludlow.’
‘Mistress Felicia?’ His uncle lifted a delicately arched brow.
Edmund’s lips eased into a smile. ‘Tell me, do you know if the Lord Edward is still at Ludlow?’
‘I doubt it.’ Walter sat down at the table. ‘I deem his next destination will be Gloucester.‘
Edmund’s mouth set firm. ‘Then I shall go there after I escort Mistress Felicia to her manor at Chipbury.’ He picked up the scroll. ‘This I would have you keep safe a while longer.’
The abbot took the scroll and replaced it in the chest. ‘How long do you mean to stay here?’
‘I would have liked to have stayed longer, but it can only be for one night as there is Mistress Felicia to consider ...’ His voice faded, and he fiddled with the stem of his goblet.
‘Tell me, nephew, about Mistress Felicia.’
Edmund hesitated. Then he sat down and began to tell his uncle all that had happened since his mother’s death.
‘You are awake at last! All the afternoon has gone.’
Felicia blinked and sat up. ‘I was tired. The journey was wearisome,’ she said, staring at Joan who stood over by the window.
Joan dragged the ends of the cord about the waist of her blue surcote through quivering fingers. ‘Why have we come here?’
‘Edmund’s uncle Walter is the abbot here,’ said Felicia, scrambling out of bed and hurrying over to the window. ‘He has come to inform him about his mother’s death. She was the abbot’s sister.’
‘Did Philip kill her with his own hands?’ There was a horrified expression in Joan’s eyes.
‘He set fire to her house, and, despite all Edmund’s attempts to save her, she died,’ answered Felicia, staring out of the lancet window opening.
Joan looked askance at her. ‘It seems providential that her son should be at hand to help you to escape. How did he know you were an unwilling guest of Philip? It sounds as if you barely knew him—yet now you are lovers.’
‘We are not lovers!’ said Felicia as calmly as she could. ‘I told you that he helped me because he saw it as a way of having his revenge on Philip.’ She held her face up to the sun’s rays. ‘Tell me. While you wandered in the forest after Philip had gone, did you see anyone that you would recognise as Philip’s followers?’
‘What? I—I don’t know.’ Joan put a hand to her head, and appeared disconcerted. ‘Why do you change the subject? You spent the other night with Master Edmund. You were in his arms.’
Felicia was taken aback. ‘Then is it you who have been spying on me? I left the keep because I was scared of mice. I returned after I had calmed down. I suppose it was you that followed me earlier?’
‘What do you mean? Why should I follow you?’ Joan’s jaw tightened. ‘It is that man who is your follower. Perhaps he has already done to you ...’
‘Done what?’
Joan hitched a shoulder high and turned away. ‘What Philip did to me. Men are all the same, if you are thinking that this Edmund is different.’
Felicia flushed and felt the remnants of her patience deserting her. ‘Master Edmund is not my lover! What Philip did to you was cruel but you must not allow your imagination to run away with you.’
‘I would not deny that just thinking about what else he might do to me causes me to shake in my shoes. How I wish we could change places and then you would understand what it is like to be me!’ she cried, sounding hysterical.
Before Felicia could stop her, Joan hurried across the chamber, and dragging the door open, she went out, slamming it behind her.
Felicia’s instinct was to go after her, but then decided it was best to wait until her cousin calmed down. Aware of voices coming from the courtyard, she returned to the window and stood there, listening.
‘I have followed this far,’ said a man gruffly. ‘You may take over now. But tell me, how goes the conflict?’
‘I have tired of it all. Matters were different when I first followed the Montfort’s star. I am glad of this new task. Perhaps I shall come out of it with some gold in my pocket for a change!’ This man’s voice was harsher than the other one. ‘But I am still to see this woman I am to watch. Where is she?’
Felicia leaned on the stone sill in an attempt to see the owners of the voices, only to dislodge a lump of mortar that bounced on the head of one of the men. He looked up and she noticed he was extremely handsome. For a moment their glances held, and then she slipped back down into the room, her face flushed.
‘That was fortunate!’ She caught the muffled sound of the first voice, and realised that the men were moving away.
‘Ay, chance is a strange lady,’ said the other. ‘Love passed me a dud coin. Perhaps now this gamble will pay off!’
Rubbing her sore elbows, she went and sat on the bed. Who was the owner of the second voice? Never had she seen a man so fair: his hair was the colour of newly-minted gold and he reminded her of someone. She returned to the window and peered out but could see no sign of the two men. She heard a door open on the other side of the courtyard and Edmund appeared. He seemed deep in thought as he crossed the courtyard, and did not seem to notice her. Suddenly she remembered Nell speaking of a man who had been a friend of Edmund and Dickon. A handsome man with hair as gold as a newly minted coin. But surely this other she had seen and Edmund and Dickon’s friend could not be the same person? Her elbows began to ache excruciatingly and she dropped down from the sill. She smoothed her skirts, dismissing the men from her mind, and wondered where Joan had gone. Perhaps she should go and look for her.
Felicia entered the hall. Outwardly she was composed, but inwardly she was still disturbed by what had just happened. Was the man with the golden hair one of Philip’s men? Had he come to spy on her? She remembered the expression on Joan’s face when she had asked if Philip had killed Edmund’s mother with her own hands. From there it was but a short step to remembering Philip’s threat to kill her. Would he think of sending some of his men to Chipbury? Maybe they had been there already and set it, too, alight. The thought numbed her.
‘Mistress Felicia!’
She lifted her head and saw Edmund coming towards her. Relief flooded her being and then she remembered that this was the first time they had been alone since the night she had run from the keep. She went to withdraw her outstretched hand, but already he had it in his grip.
‘What is it?’ He looked down into her face and held her hand more tightly. ‘You shall tell me now!’
She hesitated. ‘It is Joan. She left the chamber in a hurry, and I do not know where to find her.’
His expression lightened. ‘Do not worry. She is with Dickon. They were crossing the hall when I came in, but they did not see me.’
Felicia smiled. ‘That is good. She needs a man to show her kindness.’
Edmund nodded. ‘Would you like a stroll round the herbarium? It lacks an hour to supper, and I think you would find pleasure in the garden.’
‘That is just what I would like.’ Felicia flashed him a relieved smile as he pulled her hand through his arm.
‘I would also like you to meet my uncle Walter,’ said Edmund. ‘He wishes to make your acquaintance.’
‘You have spoken with him! Could he tell you anything concerning the Lord Edward? Or the whereabouts of the Montfort?’
Edmund began to tell Felicia what the abbot had said concerning the conflict. Eventually they came to the herbarium, having seen no sign of Joan or Dickon. Felicia glanced about her as they passed through a gate set between a hawthorn hedge. She drew a deep breath of air that was laden with fragrance. She recognised: pennyroyal, mint, thyme, fennel and many more herbs. Away down the garden she spotted a bed of lavender. ‘It is beautiful,’ she murmured, ‘and so peaceful.’ A flicker of sadness crossed her face, remembering.
‘What is it? And do not say it is nothing,’ teased Edmund.
‘I shall not do so, then.’ A smile replaced the sadness in her eyes. ‘I was thinking of the herb garden I had at Meriet, and how it was trampled down by my cousin and his men.’
‘But you will be safe at Chipbury?’ His tone demanded an answer. ‘You do not think Philip will come seeking you there?’
Was now the time to speak of her fears? ‘There is nowhere else I can go,’ she said eventually. ‘I have no other male kin—and perhaps my cousin is a devil and will find me wherever I go.’
‘If you were already wed, you would not need to fear him. He could not force you into doing anything,’ said Edmund. ‘All this talk about his being a devil! You said yourself that he bleeds, so he is a man! And it is as a man you fear him. But if you were wed, would that not alter matters?’
Felicia stilled. What was he suggesting?
‘A marriage of convenience is the usual way, is it not? I would suggest such—not for my gain, but for your protection.’ Edmund forced the words out, finding them more difficult to say than he would have believed.
Felicia’s heartbeat had quickened. He had taken her completely unawares. A slight breeze wafted a strand of hair across her face, and she eased it away with unsteady fingers. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I would offer you my name. I am Sir Gervaise’s bastard. I came here to my uncle to discover if I was heir to his lands and I am.’
‘What! Why did you not tell me you were Sir Gervaise’s bastard earlier? Or was it that you did not trust me, thinking still that I might be Philip’s whore and betray you?’ Her voice had risen and her eyes sparkled. ‘I trusted you, despite your abduction of me, but it seems you did not trust me,’ she said tartly, walking away from him.
He grabbed her arm and jerked her to a halt. ‘Trust me a little more, then,’ he said. ‘I told you no lies! I told you I was kin to Sir Gervaise.’ He watched the anger die in her face. ‘You say you hate and fear your cousin. It is for that reason that I am bold to suggest a way of escape. De Vert blood runs in my veins. In most men’s eyes that would make me your equal, despite my being a bastard. I need a wife! So what say you, Felicia Meriet? Will you wed me and confound that cousin of yours?’
Felicia put a hand to her head. She felt dizzy. The idea of marrying him filled her with a strange blend of excitement and trepidation. She needed time to think! She twisted in his grasp and raced down the garden, but she did not get far.
Edmund brought her to a swinging halt in front of a bed of poppies and spun her round. His eyes were hot and angry as they raked her face. ‘In God’s name, why do you run from me? I am not your cousin that I would force you into wedlock! Let us forget that I ever mentioned marriage to you. I shall escort you to Chipbury and leave you there, perhaps never to return, if you find my presence so distasteful. Come, I shall take you back to the lodging-house.’ He seized her hand and dragged her in the direction of the gate.
‘I do not want to go back yet.’ Felicia dug in her heels and attempted to free herself from his remorseless grip. ‘I have not finished looking at the plants.’ She glared at him. ‘I have never thought you the least bit like my cousin, except that you are both overbearing. You never give a maiden time to think—if you believe we think at all!’ She presented him with a view of her stormy profile.
He let go of her, and threw up his arms. ‘Think, then,’ he said in exasperated tones. ‘I swear I shall never understand women if I live to be a thousand years!’
‘That is unlikely!’ She plucked one of the poppies, twisting it between her fingers. He made it all sound so calculating, and while she knew that was how most marriages were arranged, she realised that she wanted more than a convenient arrangement from Edmund de Vert.
‘Well! Have you had time to consider my proposal?’ he muttered impatiently, scuffing up dust with the toe of his boot. ‘Do not say that you are indifferent to me or that we barely know each other. I consider that we know each other better than many a couple that wed after being betrothed from the cradle.’ He came behind her and slid his arms about her waist, easing her back against his chest. As she stiffened, he kissed the side of her neck. ‘Do not pretend that you find my touch abhorrent, woman.’ He bit the lobe of her ear gently. ‘I would not believe you.’
She gave a gasp of outrage. ‘Do you not have any sense of-of...’
‘Decency?’ He laughed, squeezing her waist and kissing her flushed cheek. ‘You must know I want you. Last night I wanted you. Ever since I saw you in the tub, I cannot get you out of my mind.’
‘Are you sure it is a wife you want? You have called me a witch and a wanton!’ She attempted to pull away, but he turned her about ruthlessly and kissed her full on the mouth, forcing her stubborn lips apart. A delicious melting spread through her body, and she was trembling by the time they drew apart.
‘Well?’ he demanded, holding both her hands firmly. ‘Will you marry me?’
Felicia nodded wordlessly, unable to deny her own tumultuous feelings. ‘But who will wed us without my cousin’s consent? What about banns?’ she whispered.
Edmund frowned. ‘I don’t give a fig for your cousin’s consent! And I believe I can persuade my uncle to do the deed without banns.’ He tilted her chin and kissed her hard.
‘But...’she began, pulling herself out of his embrace and gazing up at him seriously, ‘why so soon?’ Suddenly she was frightened by the strength of the feelings he roused within her. ‘Could we not wait a little longer?’
‘Wait?’ His brow darkened. ‘Wait for what? You would wait for your cousin to return from the conflict, perhaps, and make you his?’
Felicia shook her head. She wanted Edmund, but what did she know of him, after all? She suddenly felt young and vulnerable.
Edmund sensed her indecision. ‘You do hate your cousin, don’t you?’ Felicia nodded. ‘Then see our marriage as a body-blow to him. You cannot fight him with a sword, but to find you wed to me will injure him just as much as if you stabbed him.’ He smiled.
Felicia’s lips curved in an answering smile. ‘Perhaps you are right.’
‘I am right!’ He grinned. ‘Let us go now and seek out Uncle Walter. Afterwards, we shall break the news to Dickon and Joan.’ He began to lead her down the path.
‘Joan!’ She came to an abrupt halt, and Edmund stopped, a question in his eyes. ‘Joan will not like it!’
‘Then she will just have to bear it,’ he said softly. ‘She has my sympathy, but you cannot let her rule our lives. Besides, she should be glad that you will be safe from Philip.’