Sumerford's Autumn

by Barbara Gaskell Denvil

  Brice sniggered into his new sables. “My beloved boy, I can hardly humiliate myself by always telling dearest Mamma the truth, now can I? How tedious that would be. Come to my room tonight. We shall drink the best Burgundy now that trade is resumed, and I shall tell you everything.”

  Ludovic appeared already lost in the upper shadows but his voice answered quite clearly. “I doubt you would ever tell me everything, my dear.” The diminishing words faded into the depths of the corridor, floating back like an echo. “And in any case, not tonight, big brother. Perhaps tomorrow. Tonight I shall be busy. Very busy indeed.”

  “He has been surprisingly gracious,” frowned the lady. “I would have expected a brief summons, as is usual in these matters. A cursory nod is often considered sufficient. This Ludovic is perhaps a more – sensitive – and gentle man than I realised.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Alysson with a scowl and a marked lack of respect.

  “I have received a message,” continued Jennine patiently, “sent via his lordship’s personal secretary James Parton, who bowed low and politely requested, should it be convenient to myself and to the lady in question, that Mistress Alysson Welles be so kind as to partake of a light supper with Lord Ludovic in his chambers at six of the clock this evening. It was further suggested, that should both myself and Mistress Alysson be agreeable to the arrangement, his lordship will send a page to escort the lady to the afore mentioned chambers. I naturally informed Master Parton that the invitation was perfectly acceptable, both to myself and to Mistress Alysson.”

  Alysson glared. She said, “I feel sick.”

  “It’s a very nobly staged assignation,” said Jennine with a sigh. “Evidently he means to do the thing properly, starting early with food and conversation. Your prospective amourette is doing you considerably more honour than you seem to be doing him, my dear.”

  “He wants to get me into bed,” muttered Alysson. “That’s seduction, and is not in the least bit honourable. It’s – sordid.”

  “It’s life,” said the lady. “You’ll go, you’ll remember all your lessons, and you’ll tell me everything tomorrow morning.”

  Alysson gasped. “You mean, I might have to stay all night?”

  “Well, that depends,” said Jennine. “If you do everything I’ve taught you, then probably yes. He’ll want you to. But some men don’t like a woman to stay too long. He may do his business and then tell you to leave. So on the way there, you’d better take note so as to remember the way back in the dark.”

  “This is ghastly,” gulped Alysson. “I shall probably spew all over the bed.”

  “Well, you’ll certainly make an impression if you do that,” said Jennine. “But I doubt he’d ask you to stay all night afterwards. You’d better take a large kerchief.” She giggled. “Now, come here and let me dress you.”

  “You don’t need to pluck my eyebrows again, I hope,” Alysson said, both eyebrows lowered in a frown. “It hurts, and it goes all pink and sore. Last time I had little spots of blood. Why are eyebrows considered so wicked anyway?”

  “They are shockingly unfashionable, stupid girl.” Jennine stripped the thick green broadcloth from Alysson’s small figure, and regarded her for a long and intense moment. “Yes, very pretty. You will do nicely and if he undresses you himself, it will work beautifully. However, if he expects you to undress yourself, it may be less successful. You are still hopelessly ungraceful.”

  “That’s because I’m embarrassed,” Alysson mumbled. “I’ll just tell him I want to keep my clothes on.”

  “You will do no such thing,” said Jennine, aghast. “Now, we’ll have to use the pale blue silk again. After all, we can hardly let the dear boy think you’ve somehow acquired a royal wardrobe. It’s a shame, though. I’d have liked to put you into something new, perhaps a little more transparent. But no matter. This is quite alluring. The colour goes beautifully with your hair and makes you seem sweet and innocent.”

  “Except for the neckline,” Alysson shuddered. “I thought he really liked otter trimmings, until you spoiled it all by telling me he wasn’t looking at the fur at all.”

  Jennine giggled again. “Well, it seems he likes you for your ridiculous ignorance, child, which might explain why he didn’t fall for my own early attempts. Perhaps he’s one of those who particularly enjoys ravishing innocence. Some do, you know. I just hope it doesn’t mean he’ll drop you after the first time. That would be a dreadful waste after all my work. But I think not, since he’s waited this long and is going to so much trouble himself. Supper indeed!” She began to lace up the blue silk beneath Alysson’s arm, tucking the soft curved neckline down a little. “And don’t hitch that up again as soon as I’m out of sight,” she ordered. “Remember everything I’ve told you. Be mysterious if you can. And if he hurts you, just take a deep breath. It shouldn’t hurt too much, unless he wants it to.”

  Alysson turned abruptly, the stomacher still taut between her fingers. “If he tries to hurt me, I shall hurt him.”

  Jennine sighed. “That would be quite impossible as well as utterly unthinkable. You will be naked, prone, and locked in his bedchamber. What possible harm could you do him? But who knows, he might want you to struggle. I shall give no more advice. If my tutoring brings good results, I shall be well satisfied. If not – at least I have tried. But for pity’s sake child, try not to scowl.”

  The page bowed low; exceedingly polite. Silently brisk and torch flaring, Alysson followed the boy through the interminable corridors. She knew she’d never be able to remember her way back in the dark and decided that, if thrown from Ludovic’s chambers after the dreadful deed was finished, she’d simply have to curl up outside his door and wait for daylight. She wondered if she’d have the courage to ask him for a blanket. Her stomach heaved and she felt sick. She was shivering but knew her cheeks were hot flushed. As they passed other servants in the shadows and on the stairs, Alysson kept her eyes down, flushing deeper. She would, she supposed, look like a trussed chicken by the time she arrived, sure that the Lady Jennine’s efforts at instilling her with grace and beauty had all, assuredly, been quite useless. Which was probably just as well.

  Ludovic was reading. He stood at once as she entered, and took her hand. She thought he appeared remarkably unembarrassed, as if he arranged these sorts of trysts on regular occasions, which annoyed her. He smiled, looking at her for a few moments, then led her to a chair by the hearth. She hoped the heat of the flames would give some excuse for her face looking scorched.

  He leaned one elbow to the mantle, looking down on her. She heard her own heartbeat like a bellows, but said nothing. Finally he said, “I really rather expected you’d refuse to come. But at least you haven’t lost the scowl. I’m delighted to see you haven’t changed too much after all.”

  Alysson took a deep breath and glared up at him. “I have changed. But last time when you’d just got home after Christmas, I was really pleased to see you. I was happy and I wanted to say thank you. This time is different. It’s – humiliating.”

  Ludovic grinned. “It seems you are jumping to conclusions, Mistress Alysson.”

  Alysson felt her blushes creep higher. “I’m not stupid,” she mumbled. “I do know what’s proper, and this isn’t. I shouldn’t be here alone with you whoever I was, and it’s worse and it’s disparaging of you to pretend anything different. I do know my place, even if I don’t like keeping to it.”

  “I can remember a time,” said Ludovic, amusement irritatingly fixed, “when you went out of your way to try and prove your own value. You also once told me that your reputation was of no interest to you whatsoever. However, I take your point. Naturally, you’ve now assumed your charms have grown sufficiently to tempt me into immoral invitations. Hence your permanent scowl. You’re clearly expecting imminent rape, wholesale ravishment, or at least some iniquitous attempt at seduction.” He paused a moment, watching as her fury mounted. “What would you do, I wonder,” he murmured, �
��if I leapt on you now and carried you off to my bed.”

  Alysson gulped. “Bite you, probably,” she said.

  Ludovic chuckled. “But you’ve neither admitted nor denied my accusations.”

  Alysson took a deep breath. “Well, I certainly don’t have any faith in my – charms, as you so rudely put it,” she said. “Though I know I look better than I did, and I’m not so skinny, and it’s a nice dress.” She was staring into her lap, fingers knotting and re-knotting. “And I have bathed.” She knew her face to be flushed, right up to her plucked eyebrows and beyond. “I like bathing,” she continued, voice wooden. “And I’m not expecting all those – horrid things you just said. Not in the slightest.”

  “Don’t lie,” said Ludovic.

  Her head jerked up and she glared at him again. “Very well. I am expecting it. But I don’t want you to.”

  “Well, that’s all right then,” said Ludovic. “Because I don’t intend to.” He took a chair opposite her, stretching his legs. “Tell me, did you practise this particular introduction to the evening, or was it ex tempore? Not many women react to a supper invitation by immediately launching into insults and bad temper. But then, I always have found you – delightfully unique.”

  “You started with the insults,” said Alysson crossly. “You tease me on purpose, you know you do.” She felt her blushes begin to fade, and looked up at him with an immediately more pleasant expression. “Do you really not – that is, you didn’t mean – and you don’t want to?”

  He chuckled again. “I didn’t say I don’t want to. Simply that I don’t intend to. Not yet anyway. I have invited you to a late but quite innocent supper, because I wish to talk to you in private.”

  “Even if it’s not the proper thing to do? Which you know it isn’t?”

  Ludovic nodded. “I am not famed for being proper, my child.” His smile appeared permanent. “And our meetings have hardly been convenable in the past. After all, you’ve been in this chamber alone with me once before, and you even know where my secret coffers are kept hidden. I had the pleasure of kissing you – long ago – and I seem to remember, though admittedly I took you by surprise, you neither bit nor dissuaded me. Nor did I think your remarkably tolerant mistress would be shocked. She seems to me to be a lady of some experience herself, and probably unshockable.”

  “Oh well.” Alysson relaxed noticeably. “In that case, thank you for the invitation. I was terribly worried you know. I – well I imagined all sorts of terrifying things and it was really humiliating.”

  His eyes narrowed. “My dear girl, would you really be so distressed to learn some man desired you, and found you sufficiently attractive to approach you with – improper intentions?”

  “Probably.” Alysson looked at her lap again. “But especially you.”

  Ludovic appeared momentarily startled. “Especially me?”

  “Yes of course,” said Alysson. “Because I trust you and you’re a friend. And with anyone else I’d kick them, but with you I suppose I couldn’t. Well, actually I might anyway, but I’d feel really guilty after all you’ve done for me. And it would be extra embarrassing, whether I tried to fight back or whether I just – put up with it. ”

  “And do you consider,” asked Ludovic casually, “that any man’s advances, and evidently my own in particular, would prove so excessively unwelcome?”

  She nodded vigorously. “That’s a silly question. Naturally I’d hate it. Who wouldn’t?”

  Ludovic paused a moment. “I have noted – in the past – on occasion,” he murmured, “that a subtle approach to seduction, under certain circumstances, does not always seem entirely unacceptable to everyone.”

  Alysson abruptly thought of the Lady Jennine and her own two months of careful tutoring, now virtually abandoned, and hiccupped. “Well,” she said cheerfully, “I’m just glad that doesn’t apply to you – or to me.”

  “Of course not,” smiled Ludovic. “So perhaps we had better change the subject, and enjoy our supper instead.”

  Only one course was spread, and the dishes, although varied, were limited to those served easily and privately to only two people. Ludovic ate very little, watching as Alysson ate a very great deal. After a while he signalled for the three pages who had brought the meal, to leave. He then served Alysson himself.

  “Gingered chicken breast?” he suggested. Alysson was aware that his eyes were on her own breasts, though clearly ungingered, so sat up straighter and shook her head in a fluster. It had been easier when the pages had done the waiting and Ludovic had kept the conversation inane. “A shame,” he said. “I believe Master Shore prepares it particularly well. Perhaps some smoked eels in burned cream instead? The Exe is quite clogged with eels this time of year you know. We should do our best to use them up.”

  Alyson quickly found his concentration too intense and felt herself flushing scarlet again. “Now, I wonder why you’re blushing.” Ludovic smiled. “I see nothing particularly reprehensible or embarrassing about eels. Unless, of course, you have a very marked sense of word play, which I rather think you have not. Or do you simply find the room too hot?”

  “Very hot,” said Alysson quickly. “And I think I’ve eaten enough thank you.” She pushed her chair back from the small table and Ludovic nodded. He reached for her cup and poured the wine. She shook her head at that too. “I’m not used to it. I really shouldn’t drink too much.”

  “That is precisely why you should,” Ludovic informed her. “You are still ridiculously nervous, in spite of my protestations earlier. And I want to talk to you properly, without you crouching there like a fox at bay.” He grinned suddenly. “There now. You are scowling again, and after all my efforts too. Evidently you believe your pride is injured once more, and guess I am either laughing at you, or insulting you. As it happens, I am doing neither.”

  “How do you know what my scowl means?” Alysson objected.

  “I know perfectly well,” said Ludovic. “You scowl frequently, and always for precisely the same reasons. The scowl stands for wounded pride, the glare for defence. Now, drink your wine like a good girl. Remembering what you said – that I am a friend – and that you trust me.”

  “I do trust you.”

  “Then unhunch,” Ludovic said. “After all, we have eaten together before, and this meal is, I believe, somewhat more palatable than the last. Which is not an insult – merely an observation.” Having filled both their cups, he led her away from the small table and back to her chair by the fire. “And the room is not too hot,” he continued, “it is only your discomfort that makes you think it. And the only cooler place I have to offer you is my bedchamber, to which you would no doubt object. Now,” he sat opposite her again, “tell me, without subterfuge or embarrassment, how you are. Clearly your mistress treats you well, but you were not born to a servant’s life. So, are you happy enough?”

  Alysson sipped her wine. “I’m not sure how much happiness is enough. But probably I have more than enough. Certainly more than I expected. That’s why I wanted to thank you – last time.”

  Ludovic paused a moment. “The Lady Jennine is clearly – an unusual woman,” he said at last. “But I don’t ask you to speak about your mistress behind her back, and have no interest in her private affairs. When I arranged to have you placed in her service, I’m afraid it was simply a matter of convenience. I wanted you well cared for, and some sort of financial aid made available. But we are a household of men, and do not employ many women. I doubted my mother would take you on after the previous misunderstanding. There remained only my sister-in-law. But now I wonder whether living permanently in her quarters is – entirely suitable – for you after all.”

  Alysson looked up in surprise. “She’s kind.”

  “I never suggested otherwise.” Ludovic sounded impatient, then shook his head. “Very well, then. Let it rest. As long as you’re content.”

  Alysson remembered all the things which had lately troubled her, and how they had all, in one unexpected
evening, been put to sleep. “I’m certainly content and thank you, very much, for everything. And being a maid doesn’t seem so hard. After all, I was only ever an alderman’s daughter. I was never – any more than that.”

  “My dear girl,” Ludovic drained his cup. “What exactly do you think aristocracy entails? Forget the holy anointing of kings and the sacred rights of nobility. Does Henry Tudor seem like God’s merciful gift to all Englishmen? Is he somehow more righteous than the decent man whose throne he usurped? It is not the lord or the bishop, but the tradesman and the alderman who found the solid honesty of our towns, and the farmer who supplies the food, keeping England prosperous. There is corruption at every level, but it is the mighty of the land with the greatest power who despise honesty the most. Believe me, child, I speak from long experience of such things. How many wealthy men, do you suppose, gain profit from helping others? And this rabble of barons and earls, knighted for slaughtering their king’s enemies on the battlefield, or for secretly conspiring to further the injustices of those already in power. Do they seem somehow more entitled, more deserving? Minor donations come to charity, with the foundation of a church or an alms house perhaps, but simply to ensure a rich man’s own blessed benefits after death.” Ludovic refilled his cup to the brim, and in spite of her refusal, refilled Alysson’s as well. “Let me tell you a story,” he said.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ludovic crossed his ankles on the wrought iron grate, his boots a little scuffed and part smeared with ashes. A log tumbled within the hearth and the fire sparked. The chamber had been bright before supper with a dozen tall perfumed candles lit, but now three had gutted and another hissed, the wick sinking into liquid beeswax in its dish. Long shadows began to fill the room.