by June Francis
Rose returned, bringing water and a clean garment. A towel also, and some soap that did not smell quite as wholesome as that which Beatrice had had from Castile. She chattered brightly as she helped Philippa to wash and change. Her talk was of the journey yesterday, of the night spent in Kingston-on-Hull, which her mistress remembered. It seemed that only yesterday was blotted out.
‘Hush, Rose,’ said Philippa at last. ‘I’m tired, and my head is aching.’
‘You wish me to leave you?’ said Rose, gathering up the soiled shift. ‘You do look pale.’
‘You go and rest yourself, Rose,’ she murmured, closing her eyes. ‘Come back later, and we shall talk again — but I doubt you will jog my memory of yesterday.’
Rose nodded and left the room. Before the door closed, Philippa had drifted into sleep.
It was evening when Rose returned with a bowl of broth. ‘I thought you might be hungry by now.’ She set the tray over her knees.
‘I am. And I tire of this bed, but when I tried to get up, my head spun so much that I quickly got in again.’ Philippa picked up the spoon. ‘Has Sir Hugo returned yet?’
‘No. But he is expected soon, I think, for there is such a bustle of activity in the kitchen. One of the maids said that a squire had ridden ahead so that supper can be prepared, and suddenly the whole place seems alive. Perhaps it is when the master’s away … ’
‘Most go about their own business,’ said Philippa. The broth was good, and she was starting to feel more herself. ‘That is the way of things, Rose. When he comes, you must go down and tell him there has been an accident.’
‘Rob will most likely tell him. As long as he doesn’t tell Sir Hugo what he said to me!’ Rose took the empty bowl from her hand.
‘And what was that?’ said Philippa curiously. There had been an inflection in her voice.
The maid’s face was sober. ‘That the fall would scatter your wits.’
‘Some would say I’ve always been slightly scatterbrained, Rose!’ She gave a smile.
‘Some would say anything to a sister, Mistress Philippa. Those brothers of yours — jealous they were because you had more learning. Surely you haven’t remembered childish insults all this time?’
‘I must have, mustn’t I, Rose? How often was I told that girls did not do this — that — or the other?’ She crooked her knees and put her arms about them.
‘But you didn’t let their words stop you from learning more than they did!’
‘I didn’t let their words stop me from doing anything I had set my heart on,’ she said softly, suddenly pensive.
‘Just the same, isn’t it, Mistress Philippa?’ Rose turned to the window abruptly at the sound of voices from below in the courtyard. They exchanged glances.
‘The lord of the house, Rose?’ Her heart quickened suddenly.
The maid’s head remained tilted as she listened intently. ‘Ay, ’tis him, all right. I heard someone address him. What shall I do?’
‘What I said.’
Rose nodded wordlessly and left the chamber, not relishing the task. She remembered Sir Hugo being a large youth — no, he had been twenty. A large man, who — so the old master had said — did not suffer fools gladly. He had made her stammer like an idiot all those years ago when they had collided in the garden.
Rose came into the hall in a rush, halting abruptly, her eyes meeting those of the man who was sitting in a large chair, his leg outstretched on a servant’s lap. She felt a peculiar sensation, a lifting, an awareness, an excitement, never experienced before.
‘Who are you?’ His voice was deep, and even as he sat one could see he was a very large man. He had massive shoulders and long arms. The hair was corn-coloured, and longer than fashionable. He wore a brown riding-dress, but his outstretched leg was clad in scarlet hose. Thick, fair eyebrows hooded his eyes, and he was bearded.
‘You … are Sir Hugo?’ She felt as though waking from a dream, and approached slowly, her pulses beating irregularly.
‘Ay!’ Still their eyes held, and it was as though the pair of them were suspended in time. ‘Rob has been telling me.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Is the maid any better?’
‘She — She has woken and had a drink, and some food.’ She noticed now that Rob stood at his shoulder.
‘Then it is not as bad as Rob says?’ He pushed the servant away, getting up awkwardly.
‘No, but she is a little confused. She cannot remember yesterday at all.’ There was a flush on her cheeks.
‘No? Not too good — but at least she’s awake, you say?’ He walked towards her with an uneven gait.
Rose nodded as he stopped in front of her. His closeness rendered her tongue-tied.
He smiled, and warmth melted her heart. ‘You must have help. It seems that you sat with her all night, so the servants tell me.’
‘Ay! But I doubt it will be necessary this night.’
‘Good. But you must have something to eat and drink. It appears that you have had little — and that will not do.’ He took her arm. ‘Come and sit with me and tell me what has been happening in the south. Rob says Guy has gone.’ He frowned. ‘Can’t understand it. Not like him. But come and sit down.’
‘It is kind of you, Sir Hugo, but could you come upstairs first? The sight of you would surely reassure her. She cannot remember … coming to your house, you see!’ Her expression pleaded. The hazel eyes were filled with concern.
‘You must not fret yourself. If you think it will help, I shall come.’ He hesitated. ‘You’ve changed much from the old days, but now I recognise you. At first sight, I was not sure. Rob only said that one of the ladies had fallen. But I shall come up with you, and later you can tell me what has been happening.’
His talk puzzled Rose. Could he have remembered her after all these years? Surely not — if he had, he would not wish to sit with her, a serf! Lady! Rob had referred to them both as ladies. Well, they said that fine feathers made fine birds, and she wore one of her mistress’s gowns. But he was looking at her with a warmth of expression, as if waiting for her to — to lead the way! She did so, although she was more accustomed to following in other people’s footsteps. Her awareness of him just behind was almost tangible. Never had any man had such an effect on her. Surely Mistress Philippa would forget Master Guy with such a man as her husband!
They reached the foot of the narrow stone steps and she began to climb, but on reaching the top she paused, realising that he was not with her. She turned and saw that he was only five steps up, no longer climbing, but leaning against the wall. Swiftly she descended.
‘What ails you, sir?’ Even in the dim light she could see that his face was drawn with pain.
‘Damn leg,’ he muttered in a vexed voice. ‘Think the wound’s opened up again.’
Rose was just about to ask ‘What wound?’ when she remembered that he had been gored by a boar, and the conversation between Rob and Guy the day before. ‘Perhaps you shouldn’t have gone out so soon,’ she murmured in concern. ‘Here, let me help you.’ She slipped an arm about his waist, forgetting everything but that he was in pain.
He gave a bark of laughter. ‘You’re only a slip of a lass. You’ll never take my weight!’
‘I’m stronger than I look,’ said Rose indignantly. ‘Put your arm about my shoulders, and we’ll go down again.’
Sir Hugo stared down at her, and a small tight smile played about his mouth. ‘You have changed. I remember how you used to stammer and stutter … when I spoke to you,’ he gasped.
Rose flushed and averted her eyes. ‘You — You frightened me!’ She had ran pell-mell into him, hitting him in the stomach with her head. He had thought that she was her mistress and damned her to hell, and thinking he might have had her beaten, she had not owned to who she was, but stuttered an apology and vanished from his sight speedily.
‘I never meant to frighten you,’ he said brusquely, resting his weight on her as they carefully negotiated the steps. ‘Rest,’ he uttered briefly when they r
eached the foot. She was glad to do so, bowed as she was under that muscular arm.
‘Which leg is it, sir?’ They leaned against the stone wail
‘Left one. F-Feels like it’s bleeding!’ He closed his eyes and rested his cheek against her hair.
Then you should not have your weight on it, or walk any further,’ said Rose anxiously. ‘Can you rest here without my arm? I can look and see how bad it is, and whether it is wiser to fetch some men to bring a hurdle to carry you on.’
‘Dammit, you’ll not have me on a hurdle again, lass,’ he muttered, lifting his head. ‘Let’s go on! My bed’s in the solar, and there’s a separate door into it just up the passage. There’s no need to go into … the hall.’
She glanced at him swiftly and would have argued, then decided against it. If he swooned, she would have to fetch help — if they reached the solar, she could fetch his aunt. Slowly they navigated the passage and came to the door he indicated, and she opened it. Shadows filled the chamber, making it difficult to steer his trailing leg round obstacles — a chest, a stool, the foot of the bed. They collapsed in a heap on to the coverlet.
Neither of them moved or spoke for several minutes, only their rapid breathing sounded in the room. Then Rose began to disentangle herself, to remove his arms from her waist and shoulders. For an instant her strength made no impression on their hold. Then she said, ‘Sir, you must release me! I must get a light, and someone to help you. I shall fetch your aunt.’
‘H-Help, of course!’ he muttered, his arms slackening and dropping back on to the bed. ‘Not my aunt, though. Rob! Fetch Rob! Tell … nobody else.’
‘If that is what you wish.’ When she raised herself from him, she realised that her legs could barely carry her because they trembled so much, and she had to hold on to the door before opening it.
His voice made her turn her head as she reached the doorway. ‘Ph-Philippa! I — I deem we will deal well to — together, you and I.’ Her face stiffened with shock, and her fingers clutched at the door all the tighter.
‘Sir Hugo, you are mistaken!’ she blurted out. ‘I am not your betrothed!’
There came no answer — and when she walked unsteadily back to the bed, she realised why. Her hand came away with blood on her fingers. His face was shuttered. Strength came back to her, and she fled from the room in search of Rob.
Chapter Ten
Rose found Rob in the stable, and told him in a few hurried words what had happened to Sir Hugo. He dropped the bridle he had been cleaning and came with her immediately, muttering an oath under his breath. He reached for a box on a shelf, and tucked it under his arm.
‘I knew this would happen!’ He rubbed his chin as he stared down at the prone figure on the bed. ‘I warned him. But he’s that stubborn and impatient,’ he grunted. ‘We’ll need lights!’
‘I’ll fetch some quickly,’ said Rose, already moving towards the door.
‘Don’t tell anyone else what’s happened,’ cautioned Rob. ‘If anyone asks what the lights are for … but probably they won’t. It being you, mistress, they’ll think them for the sick lady.’
She paused, wondering if now was the right time to say that she was her mistress, but already he had turned away and was attending his master. A groan from Sir Hugo caused her to go swiftly. No questions were asked, and an offer of some wine for the lady was accepted. Sir Hugo might be glad of it. As soon as she could, she would go upstairs and tell her mistress what had happened.
The rush lights immediately sent the darkness retreating into corners and showed that Rob had not been idle while Rose was away. The lid of a chest tiling open revealed chaos within, but there were several lengths of torn linen hanging over the foot of the bed, along with bloodied red hose.
Sir Hugo sprawled against the pillows, his mouth compressed tightly as Rob worked on his leg. The light caught the gleam of his eyes as he lifted his head. ‘Good,’ he said quietly. ‘You thought of bringing some wine.’
‘Ay, sir.’ She did not look at his leg, for her stomach was churning still from the sight of the blood on her hand. ‘Should you not have a physician?’ She put down the light and took the cup from the top of the flask.
‘And have him tell me I should have let him cut it off? Damn it, lass, would you have me a cripple?’ he grunted.
‘No, sir,’ she said faintly, sitting down abruptly on the bed. ‘I — I never realised that your injury was so bad.’
‘Would have been worse … if it weren’t for Rob here,’ he muttered, wincing. His fair brows bristled together as if to press down the pain.
Rose averted her eyes and caught Rob’s glance. ‘Learnt a trick or two in France from the monks when I was there with the old master! Nearly lost my own leg, but they saved it. And I got interested, like. I tried some of the remedies on the horses first,’ explained the groom. ‘All the poison’s gone out of this, but I’ve put some yarrow on. Don’t want it swelling again. Trouble with Sir Hugo is that he won’t give it time to knit properly. Perhaps you’ll be able to persuade him, mistress.’ He gave Rose a grin which showed several missing teeth, and reached for a strip of linen.
‘That’s enough, Rob,’ said Sir Hugo wearily. ‘Pour me some wine, lass.’
Rose complied with his request. Words hovered on her tongue, seeking to find the right order — how to say that she was just a serf and that they had both made a mistake.
‘That tastes good.’ His smile was weak and hardly twitched his beard. ‘I’m glad you came when you did, but now it’s time you went.’ He took another gulp of the wine.
‘Sir Hugo,’ she began, taking her courage in both hands. ‘I must tell you … ’
‘Not now, lass. Whatever you wish to tell me, it will do in the morning.’ His eyes were just narrow slits.
‘Go, mistress,’ hissed Rob. ‘He’s that weary and needs quiet now. Tomorrow there’ll be time for talking.’ His nimble fingers tied the bandage. ‘Besides, the other lady will be wondering what’s happened to you. There’s her to think on. Bless me, if it doesn’t rain but it pours! Off with you, for you’ve done all you can here tonight. And pleased it is he is to see you — that you can be sure.’
‘But … ’ tried Rose desperately.
‘In the morning,’ whispered Rob, taking her arm with all the familiarity of an old and trusted friend. ‘You’re tired yourself, and it’s to be expected you’d want to tell him about your father being killed and your house being burnt down, and all your mishaps, wanting him to deal with it all. But he has troubles enough to disturb that sleep which he needs badly.’ He ushered a speechless Rose to the door — opened it and gently pushed her unresisting body through.
Rose stared at the door as he closed it firmly in her face. Master Guy must have told him some of what had happened in the south, and that knowledge now proved too much for her — that, and all the events of the last two days. Mistress Philippa would know what to do! She’d be able to sort it all out! With drooping shoulders she made her way along the passage and up the steps to her chamber.
Dusk already filled the room, but Philippa was out of bed and standing by the window. She turned as Rose entered, and started forward. ‘Where have you been? Where’s Sir Hugo?’
‘Oh, Mistress Philippa!’ cried Rose, and burst into tears.
‘Rose, Rose! What is the matter?’ She took the two hands that covered the maid’s face and clasped them tightly in her own.
‘You — You’ll never … never believe … ’ A rush of emotion and a series of sobs prevented her from going on.
‘I’ll never believe what?’ Philippa put her arm round the maid. ‘Come and sit down. Hush, now!’ She nursed Rose over to the bed and sat down with her, but could not extract a sensible word until the storm of tears had passed. Then the girl poured out all that had happened since she had left the room.
‘Sweet Jesu!’ Philippa exhaled a gusty breath. ‘Are we so alike, Rose, that he could mistake you for me?’
‘I’ve never thought about it be
fore,’ said Rose, wiping her face with the back of her hand. ‘You’ll explain it all in the morning, won’t you, Mistress Philippa?’
‘Of course! But it’s so extraordinary that Guy, too, should have thought we were alike.’ She bit her thumbnail, frowning in the dark. ‘Is he so handsome, Rose? You sounded quite struck by him.’
‘Did I?’ She was glad of the darkness that hid the sudden flush that warmed her face.
‘Ay, you did,’ replied Philippa pensively. ‘I wonder why he did not want anyone but Rob to know that his wound is still bad?’
‘He has troubles enough,’ said Rose in muted tones. ‘Perhaps it’s to do with his serfs.’
‘You know so?’ Her head turned quickly.
‘No,’ Rose muttered, ‘it is only a guess. But you heard what Rob told Master Guy about Lancaster setting his bondsmen free. Perhaps Sir Hugo’s want their freedom too. Remember how deserted the house and courtyard were the day we arrived? Was it only yesterday?’ She sighed. ‘They could have been having a meeting while he was away. Remember what it was like at home?’
‘Ay! But I don’t remember yesterday.’ She folded her arms, hugging herself, suddenly cold. ‘You really believe … ’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Guy mustn’t have realised. He could face such a situation now on his own — Hugo’s other manor! They could have seized power!’ Philippa chewed on her nail again.
‘We don’t know,’ soothed Rose, patting her knee. ‘I shouldn’t have spoken. Master Guy will have fewer serfs — if any. His grandfather was a serf — or his greatgrandfather, and he’s for getting rid of bondage.’
‘He spoke of that to you?’ Philippa’s astonishment showed.
‘On the ship. We talked about such matters. He said it was the cause of many a quarrel between him and Sir Hugo.’ A hiccup punctuated Rose’s words.
